It takes about 30 minutes from my house to the office by a small private train.
It would be unthinkable in the city, but I commute to and from work mostly sitting on the train.
On my way home on that train, I experienced an eerie event.
That day, I went out for a drink at the invitation of my manager and finally caught the last train before midnight.
It would have cost 10,000 yen to return home by cab, so I sat down on my seat, relieved to be able to catch the train.
Since I was in the countryside, the last train was very quiet.
It seemed that I was the only one on the train.
I stretched my legs out on the seat in front of me and immediately began to doze off, partly due to my intoxication.
How many minutes had passed? I was awakened by a small voice.
The giggling voice seemed to be that of a young mother with a small child.
The child said, “Hey, we used to take this train a lot, didn’t we?”
Mother: “Yes, that’s right. Ken-chan, you used to love trains.”
The child said, “Yes. It was so much fun when we went to XX station.”
Mother “Well, I wish I could have taken you to Tokyo Station or one of the big Japanese National Railways stations.”
Child “Yeah, I wanted to take a night train or something once.”
I was dreamily listening to the conversation between parent and child.
I couldn’t see them because the car had seats for four people, but I could hear their conversation.
I wonder if they are in a seat close by if I can hear them quite clearly.
I wondered if he got on the train at some intermediate station.
The mother said, “Ken-chan. I couldn’t give you much of a ride on the JNR, huh?”
The sound of “JNR” struck me as odd.
It must have been more than 15 years since JNR became JR.
As I was thinking about this, I woke up.
I gently leaned forward from my seat and looked around, but I couldn’t see the father and son anywhere.
I wondered if they were sitting in a blind spot from me.
While I was pondering this, the train arrived at the next station and departed without getting on or off.
As I began to doze off again, I heard the whispering of a parent and child, as if they were waiting for me.
The mother said, “Ken-chan, were you scared at that time?”
Child “No, my mother was with me. I was totally fine.”
Mother: “But it must have hurt.”
The child said, “Well, I don’t know. But I’m glad it was my favorite train.”
Mother said, “Yes, that’s right. I chose this blue train that he likes.”
Child: “Oh, we’re almost at that crossing.”
The child made excited noises. I looked out the window.
Ahead of the curve, in the middle of a field, the red signal of a railroad crossing floated dimly.
There was a figure standing at the crossing, apparently a father and son.
It looked as if the father and child were trying to pass through the lowered crossing gate.
The train braked suddenly, and at the same time, a dull impact was felt.
Then, a red spray splashed onto the windowpane of the seat I was sitting on.
I felt the blood rush out of my body and I involuntarily tried to run toward the door.
But…as I got up from my seat, I suddenly realized that the train was running as usual.
Only my heart was beating wildly.
I stood up and looked around the train to see if I was dreaming, but no one was there.
The parent-child conversation I had heard earlier might have been a dream.
As I calmed myself down, I began to feel ashamed of myself for being frightened at the mere fact that I was riding alone in the train.
I heard the train announce, “This is the last stop,” and finally the train really started to slow down.
I grabbed my coat and bag and headed for the exit.
As I started to see the lights of the platform, I clearly felt the presence of someone behind me.
I could also hear the sound of water dripping down.
I looked up and saw a figure behind me. Upon seeing it, I involuntarily dropped what I was holding and fell to the ground.
The reflection in the glass was a young mother holding a child of about five years old.
The mother’s left arm was missing from the elbow and her chest was shattered, and blood was dripping from the wound.
The child was held by her right arm. The left half of the child’s body had been crushed and looked almost like a lump of red flesh.
The child was staring at me with its remaining right eye.
I don’t remember much after that.
The station attendant pulled me out of my slumped position and offered me a glass of cold water in his office.
I did not talk to the station staff for more information about the mother and son.
Because it would have been crazy to be told that there was actually a suicide by jumping into the train.
