Grensford Junction | Teen Ink

Grensford Junction

May 7, 2018
By ParkingMustard, Murrieta, California
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ParkingMustard, Murrieta, California
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Author's note:

Once, I read a urban legend about a ghost station in Japan, a quiet, dark station where no one was there without an exit, no matter what you did. The station takes you away to afterlife through a tunnel along the railroad. It reminded me of my town. I spent my high school years at a very small town. Especially in dry, bleak California, the suffocating heat and the quietness that surrounded my everyday felt like it was slowly choking me to death. I wrote Grensford Junction to dedicate it to myself in my senior year, because I was not able to verbalize the feeling I had to feel all four years, as it was not enough.Through Mina and the Station, I wanted to portray the isolation that I felt in my town, to describe the depressing, smothery quietness. Silence is ambivalent. People crave silence for comfort, peace, or even calming joy. But complete silence drives people insane, because we, as people, as human beings, always crave presence and affection. Someone to talk to, listen to, or just sit down next to, is essential to every single person anywhere in this world. 

Mina and I had known each other since high school. From freshmen year to graduation, we stuck around together all the time. Despite all the after school walks, school projects, field trips, occasional school dance partners, we did not have any special memories or emotions between us, but we were both satisfied with it. She and I were never the kind of kids who wanted to stand out, but just wanted to get out of Fairview. The remote scene of the field and one-story buildings made sure to keep us depressed and unmotivated, as if the Peace River’s polite streams were not enough. Our hope was to sink in the business of the city; the ignorance and inadvertence. After high school, we both grew apart from each other as we got older, but we would often exchange letters at holidays. She worked just outside of the city as a receptionist in a mid-sized office supply company. I would work night shifts at the near-by hospital as a CNA. Not once in our supposed “real lives”, did we care to see each other after work.
That is why I felt a rum sense and rush in my bloodstream when I received a text from her last Tuesday. I hate when people text me right before I fall asleep, I thought. The beaming blue light on my phone’s front screen desperately flickered.
“Call me if you can” — From: Mina Madsen, 03/08/06 11:54 pm.
Squinting my burning eyes from the light, I took a moment to process her name through my drawers of memories. It took about three minutes to pull out her name from a dusty old box that I pushed it into the corner of my head. Oh, that Madsen. Something felt unusual. I stared at her name until I was welling up from dryness. Dialing her number slowly, I felt light headed. A whiff of the Bath and Body Works body mist came into my nose. The taste of the damp chicken nuggets lingered in my mouth.
After two monotonous ringings, the phone was silent. I called her again, but static sounds buried her words. An unaccountable fear started creeping inside of me.
“I can’t reach you. Where are you?” — To: Mina Madsen, 03/08/06 11:59 pm.
She replied immediately. “Sorry. I don’t think I have signal. I’m in the subway.” — From: Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:00 am.
I asked her what she was up to. Instead of a cant how-are-you, she replied with short sentences about how she thinks she took the wrong train. It skipped the station before hers and now it was heading to some place she could not recognize.
“The train stopped. Grensford Junction.” — From: Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:07 am.
The door was open, but nobody got up. The back of the kayducer’s head was so still it almost seemed like an illusion. Mina held her breath and got off the train. She was starting to feel nauseous from the piercing sight of a lady sitting right across her. Draping herself with black clothing, she reminded Mina of a crow that used to sit on her roof of her childhood home. Just like the crow, she locked eyes with the lady and could not get her eyes off of her. A few seconds Mina stepped out of the train, it moved out of the station as if it were running away from her, turning all of its lights off in a flash. I asked Mina if the station had any workers there. I remembered taking the Light Rails to get to work before I saved up enough for my own car. Usually the cleaning ladies would stay until late for everyone to get out.
“I don’t think you should get out of the station, Mina. I mean, you don’t know the town and its dark. It’s dangerous.” I warned Mina.
Just the image of being in an remote, unknown area brought back numerous traumas from my childhood. Mina wandered around the dark station for another ten minutes. She bought a bottle of water from the vending machine, went to the restroom twice, attempted to make a call to me and her mom about five more times, then finally sat down. Mina said the station was weirdly cold and silent. Not even a sound of a machine, or an animal. Her own footsteps were muted, she said.
“I think its a unmanned station. The weird thing is, I can’t even find a fare gate anywhere. Well, what a way to save.” — From: Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:21 am.
I immediately grabbed my laptop laying on my night stand. The cold steel against my skin felt like a warning sign and made me startled. A station that that does not have any workers nor fare gates cannot exist. Not a single thing that Mina has described to me made sense.
“Hey, are you sure the name of the station is Grensford Junction? I can’t find anything on the internet.” — To: Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:23 am.
Snatching my coat from the rack, I wrapped it around me and rustled down the stairs. I remembered that I had a old map from my dad in my car. The chilling blessings laid themselves on my shoulders and head. Blinking twice, my car alerted itself to me. Under the yellow light, I dug into my car. All the fast food garbage and empty water bottles made noise along my movement. I found the map under a pile of insurance and billing paper work and rushed back upstairs. I checked my phone. There was no reply from Mina.
“I have a old map on me. Maybe the station is closed and no one uses them anymore. I might be able to find it on here. Tell me a street name or anything.” — To : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:30 am.
After pressing the buttons to type the message so hard that my fingers felt a little numb, I rolled my eyes all over the map to find Stovner, which was the next station from Husby. My phone blinkered its blue light in urgency. There was a multiple text from Mina.
“Yeah, I actualy went back to make sure I read it right. It is Grensford Junction. The last staton that I pased was Husby.” — From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:33 am.
“Right after Husby I kind of lost track of the stations. I don’t even remember what I was doing. I just remember the eyes.” — From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:34 am. “iyes 0233!423”
“4(rew456” — From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:35 am. “Sorry. I don’t think the conection’s really good here. I can’t send my texts riht way. It kind of taks a long time. Maybe I should go check what’s outside.”
Her typos made the texts hard to read and raised my anxiety. I thought the connections were getting worse. I did not want Mina to be wandering outside of the station. The best she could do right now is to sit at the station and wait for the first train that comes later that morning. I decided to put my coat on and hold my keys with me. Something crawled up my spine and clogged my throat in such a way that a snake might do to choke its prey.
“Mina I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” — To : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:36 am.
“I feel like I’ve been here.” — From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:37 am. “The streets are so familiar. Like from a long time ago. 3444 But I’m pretty sure I don’t remember this place.”
Mina said the fluorescent street lights seemed uncanny, like they were eyes, like they were watching Mina take every single step on the streets. The concrete felt tacky and they were clinging on to her, like they were hands, like they were holding onto Mina’s ankles. She walked straight forward. If it was a dead end with only a left corner to turn, she turned. She walked along the fluorescent eyes. She walked with concrete hands on her ankles. The heavy legs were coloring her into the same shade of black as the station and the town. The whole town would mold itself into a sphere and trapped Mina in there. She was only able to see streets that seemed almost exactly like the other one, only with a new sensation. Mina wanted presence. Mina wanted liveliness and warmth. The more she wrapped her clothes around her, the clothes only seemed to get thinner and thinner. Out of despair, she looked into some of the windows that had lights on to look for her savior. She knocked, yelled, cried in front of some doors.
“Nothing is here. I mean, nothing is present here. Houses have lights and the TV on but nobody is watching them. Nobody is sitting, walking, standing around. None.” — From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 00:40 am.
Mina passed by houses that were occupied but empty. Even if she ran, she would eventually see a scene that she is familiar with, but has never seen before. It was a never ending road of dejavu — A dejavu that will eventually swallow you and lock you inside.
“I found a railroad. I thnk I’ll follow it.” —- From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 01:03 am. “Since the last station was Husby, I’m positive the next station is Stovner. I’ll be home. I’ll be okay, right?”
I jumped into my car. I was no longer able to tolerate the anxiety, the fear, and the eery sensation that Mina and the station was giving me. My eyes were tearing up and blurred my sight. Tears felt like boiling water falling along my cheeks. I was not able to comprehend the overflow of emotions that were exploding inside of me. I was scared, I was scared! Like that time I was stuck in the escalator in my dreams, my mother calling me at the very bottom of the automatic stairs that would never lead me to her arms. I just wanted to get her, I just needed to get to her through this viscid abyss of darkness. My headlights slashed through the muck of night. I stepped on the excel boisterously. The railroad wasn’t hope.
“Some armless man yelled at me. Smething about walking on th railroad. But I have to get to the tunnel, I have to wak trhoug0#8” —- From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 01:12 am. “Gone. The man is just gone.”
Everything passed by me like I’m in the eye of the tornado. The swirls did not matter to me. All I could think of was Mina. I blamed myself. I cursed myself. I should have moved faster. I should have went over to her at the moment I knew something was going wrong. The terror was up to every move of the board. A ghastly flash of light spiked itself right into my eyes as I was vulnerable suffering from foolish self-accusation that is about two hours late. Crumpling my eyelids from horrible pain, I turned my handle to the other way and hit my head on it. The tire screeched, screaming on the top of its lungs for my death.
“The tunnel is ending. I see some lights, which I think is coming from Stovner. I miss you Daan.” — From : Mina Madsen, 03/09/06 01:46 am.



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