The Ghost In The Voice Mail
2023 – Elara Quinn
The world outside the train’s fogged windows was a blur of motion and color, but Elara Quinn couldn’t see it.
Not really.
Her gaze was fixed, unblinking, as if the weight of the years was pressing against her skull. She had long since given up on counting the days.
Time no longer had any meaning. It had stopped, fractured in an eternal moment that played over and over again in her mind—Loyd Ashen’s smile, his voice, and the screeching of tires.
The accident.
She could hear it in her ears, feel it in her bones. It was there every time she closed her eyes, haunting her with the cruel truth: Loyd Ashen was gone.
The boy who had been her everything, her heart, her future—he was gone. And Elara, ever the survivor, was left behind to roam a world that no longer made sense.
But there were moments—small, fractured, almost fleeting—that made her doubt the truth.
Like today, when she almost swore she heard his voice through her headphones. No. Impossible. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone.
She hadn’t listened to his voicemails in month. She couldn’t, wouldn’t. The rawness of it, the anguish that threatened to tear her apart each time she heard his voice. It was a wound that never healed, a scar that never stopped bleeding.
But she pressed play anyway.
And then, his voice—his unmistakable voice—ripped through the silence of the train, sending a chill through her spine.
“Elara...”
A pause. His voice seemed to falter, as if he were unsure whether to continue. The air around her thickened, and her chest tightened.
“If you’re hearing this...”
The words were too real, too raw. Elara’s fingers clenched around the phone, her knuckles white. She barely noticed the rhythmic thumping of her heartbeat, so loud in her ears it drowned out the rest of the world.
“I hope you find me. I’m waiting. 1988. Remember the watch.”
A low laugh—almost a sob—escaped her lips. Was this some cruel joke? A hallucination?
But no, that was his voice. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Time itself seemed to bend, twisting, contorting, until she was no longer sure if she was still in the world she knew.
The train lurched forward, its wheels grinding against the rails, and the sudden shift of motion sent Elara’s body reeling.
The world outside became a blur, and the walls of the train seemed to close in. Her breath came faster, her pulse thundering in her ears, drowning out everything but the single thought that slammed into her mind:
1988.
The year she had never been to. The year that could never be real. She was spiraling, falling through the cracks of reality itself.
And then, just as she thought she might scream, the world shattered.
The lights above her flickered, and the train, once so solid beneath her feet, gave a final, sickening jerk.
Elara’s vision blurred—no, distorted—and everything around her warped. Her chest squeezed, her throat burned, and before she could even process what was happening, the train... vanished.
And in its place, there was only darkness.
---
To be continued-
every loop, every heartbeat, every page —thank you for finding me in them. we’re all a little woven by time.
Keep staying up with Rain🌧
