The night sky above my head is bathed in shades of black and dark blue, the millions of stars above only amplified in their brilliance by the absence of any artificial light to distract from their beauty. The trees around me rise up to meet them, their branches like long fingers seeking to pluck the stars from their celestial seats. Their shadowy forms looming like greedy giants in the darkness are the only interruptions in the otherwise unbroken skyline. 

On any normal evening, the sounds of wildlife would accompany this serene setting, but tonight is not any normal evening. The silence of the grave hangs over this place. The animals that usually frequent the area have either hidden or fled before the presence of the evil that has accompanied me here. 

The occasional breeze dances across the bare skin that my t-shirt and sleep shorts have left exposed, leaving small trails of goosebumps in its wake. Long tendrils of blonde hair blow into my eyes, stinging and burning, but I'm unable to brush them away. My body is no longer my own. It has become nothing more than a vehicle with an alien driver. 

It has brought me here and left me to die, watching amused, from whatever hole it slithers back into when we can no longer see it. I can feel its eyes boring into me even as the wood of the track presses into the soft soles of my bare feet, the small pebbles between the slats digging into my toes and heels. The constant vibration that I feel thrumming lightly from my ankles to my knees is my first indication that the train is quickly approaching. 

Suddenly, my friends' panic-stricken shouts shatter the silence of the night as they frantically search for me. Their screams come from what seems an insurmountable distance. I hear them calling my name, begging me to come back, to wake up. Their voices float to me as if in a dream and I guess, in a way, it is, but I'm all too aware that my friends, what's left of them anyway, will not make it in time. This will be the scene of my death. My only wish is that they don't find me in time to witness it. 

They will blame themselves for this afterward, but it isn't their fault. How could a bunch of overgrown kids have any idea that something as simple as a dream could bleed into the real world so readily? 

As it makes the first bend, I'm bathed in the light of the oncoming train's lone headlamp, and from somewhere close by, there is a scream that turns my blood to ice in my veins. I can do nothing but watch as the train barrels in my direction, the vibrations from the engine quivering like an earthquake through the ground beneath me. Its whistle rips the night into as the driver spots my unmoving form, standing zombie-like on the tracks. 

To my right, the voices have grown louder. I can hear their footfalls as they approach. Their overlapping shouts alternate between screams and pleas for me to respond, even though they know their requests are useless. Their voices blend together in a panicked chorus that makes it impossible to distinguish one person from the next. 

There is the shifting of gravel and I know, without looking, that one of them is climbing the embankment to the tracks, but much too late. Already I can see the engineer, peering down at me, his face a shocked oh of surprise and then suddenly there is impact. I'm airborne as pain sears through my body in one brilliant blinding white flash and then blessed darkness. My last prayer is that my final sleep is dreamless.