After sitting on a tram for over twenty-four hours, I realized just how beautiful my city truly is. It’s breathtaking, full of old architecture, nice little parks, and a riverside panorama few other cities can compare to.
That morning, I actually took my first toilet break. I don’t know how I lasted that long, but the moment I went, it was heaven.
The early hours of the day went by as usual. Once again, the tram was overcrowded, and a few times I noticed people staring at me angrily for not making room or moving my gigantic backpack aside. Well, tough luck. This row is my home for the entire week. Yes, I specifically chose where I sat. Second tram car, third row from the back.
The first interesting thing of the day was an encounter with an old man. He must’ve entered the tram between nine and ten in the morning. I only remember because I’d just taken another short video for my friends, and there he was, sitting only a few rows ahead of me. It seemed almost as if he’d appeared out of nowhere. Must’ve snuck in at the last stop, I reasoned.
Strangely enough, he just sat there as the tram continued on to the end of the line, and remained seated as the tram turned around and went back the way it came. I couldn’t help but smile, but was also a tad bit confused. Were other people doing the same dumb thing as me? Just riding the tram back and forth for no reason? Well, who knows, maybe he’s a bored old man with nothing to do. Maybe he just enjoys tram rides or the scenery. Hell, he might just be taking a brief detour before getting to his destination.
I tried not to be bothered by him, but whenever I looked up from my book, he was still there, going back and forth with me. As I munched on another sandwich and some crackers, I couldn’t help but stare at the back of his head. It was two in the afternoon, and by now, he must’ve been on the tram for at least for hours. What the hell was he up to? By this point, he was unnerving me.
A few minutes later, he got up, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was about to get off. Instead, he took a seat near me, and turned his bald head towards me. I instantly noticed something was wrong with him. His eyes looked glassy, almost hazy. What was weirder, though, was his outfit. It just… didn’t fit. It reminded me of something I’d seen in an old family photo album, a style popular half a century ago.
“Interesting to see someone here for as long as me,” he finally said.
I just stared at him, surprised by the gentle, well-meaning tone of his voice.
“Oh yeah, it’s… a dare between friends? To see how long I can last.”
“Young people these days,” he mused. “But I sure did my share of stupid things back in my days.”
“How come you’re on so long yourself? Are you enjoying the ride, the scenery?”
He was quiet, and for a few moments, he just stared outside, watching the city pass by.
“Well, you aren’t wrong, young man. I’ve been on here for quite some time, longer than I would’ve ever guessed, but it’s interesting to see things change. New lines, new stations. Feels just like yesterday that I rode on Line 5 to the main station…”
What he’d just said made no sense. There was no Line 5. Sure, there’d been one, but it had been discontinued more than two decades ago.
“Wasn’t Line 5 discontinued?”
“Ah, yes, you’re right. But once you’ve been here for as long as me, you sometimes forget these types of things.”
“What do you…? How long have you been on here?”
An icy feeling washed over me. Something didn’t add up. Not just his eyes or his outfit, but the things he said.
“Much too long, young man, but that’s just how it is for some of us. We can ride on and on, but we’ll never reach our destination.”
“The hell’s that supposed to-?”
“You should be careful, young man. This place, like many others, has its dangers, especially for those who linger, who stay on for too long,” he said, getting up.
I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I was quiet, and simply watched as he walked toward the tram car ahead of us. As I watched, I noticed something was wrong with the way he walked. He trudged on, as if every step took tremendous effort. His legs were strangely bent, his back slouched and twisted, almost as if it was… broken.
Then, for a single second, I saw something that made me cringe back in terror. It was there for the briefest moment, but the ghastly vision burnt itself into my eyes. The well-dressed old man was gone, replaced by a mangled, twisted corpse. Its chest was caved in, almost torn apart, and its arms dangled limply at its side, completely broken. The worst were its legs. They were nothing but a ground mass of flesh and shattered bone.
I was left trembling, drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding. Then it was over, and once again, I saw nothing but an old man. He turned to me once more, a well-knowing, sad look on his face before he gave me a brief nod that seemed to say ‘be careful.’
Right at that moment, my phone vibrated, notifying me about a new message. I jerked and almost dropped it before I turned back toward the old man, or rather, where he’d been. I scanned the tram ahead of me, then behind me, but he’d just… vanished. Sitting in my seat, I couldn’t help but shiver. What the hell had just happened? I thought of the mangled, twisted version of him, the things he’d talked about. Had I just been visited by a freaking… ghost?
For the rest of the day, I couldn’t help but think about him. In the afternoon, the tram filled up again, then emptied, before the process repeated itself in the evening. As it turned late, I settled back in my seat, put on some relaxing music, and prepared myself for some much-needed hours of rest, hopefully a few more than yesterday.
Almost unconsciously, I watched the few other late-night passengers on the tram with me. In my mind, I gave them names and made up stories about them. A few seats ahead of me sat Jenny, a young woman in her mid-twenties, who was on her way home after a late shift at the nursing home. Further ahead sat old Rupert, a bachelor in his early sixties, who’d just enjoyed a performance at the state theater. It was strange, but I almost felt connected to these people, as if they were my people, the citizens of Tramonia, a nation comprising nothing but this one lone tram, going back and forth forever.
Eventually, a group of drunk guys got on. They were a loud, rowdy bunch, walking up and down the tram car, howling obscenities, and dangling from handrails like the idiots they were. I couldn’t help but watch them intently. They were breaking the law of Tramonia, I thought, and needed to be punished.
As I sat there, half-nodding off, and watching them, I tried to come up with ideas on how Tramonia handled crime. I didn’t realize that one of them had long since noticed me. His expression wasn’t one of mild curiosity. No, he looked pissed, or at least up for trouble.
“The fuck you staring at, dickweed?” he called out to me.
I jerked up in my seat and instantly averted my eyes.
“Think you’re better than us, huh?” I heard one of them mumble.
Soon after, all three of them set out for me. Shit, now I’d done it.
“Yo, bro, what’s up?” one of them asked as he sat down in front of me.
His breath stank of liquor, almost making me gag, but I tried my best to turn away and ignore him.
“Hey, we’re talking to you!” his friend spat at me.
“Nothing, just on my way home,” I mumbled.
“Oh, is that so?” the one in front of me asked in a cruel, sing-song voice.
I gave him another ‘yeah,’ and tried my best to stare out the window. This landed me a slap against the back of my head, followed by guffawing from his friends.
“The fuck are you-?”
I didn’t get to finish my curse because one of them grabbed me by the throat, raising his fist.
“You think you can fuck with us, bro?”
Right at that moment, the driver’s voice reached us via the intercom, telling them to knock it off. The guys stared at each other, surprised and dumbfounded, but with no intention of leaving me alone. A second announcement by the driver followed, this one more serious. He assured them he had no problem stopping the tram right here and calling the cops.
This time, they released me, and after a few more insults, walked away. A few stations later, they thankfully got off the tram for good, but not without giving me a few more angry glances.
When we pulled into the end of the line station, a place where trams occasionally powered down during the late hours of the night, the driver approached me.
“Hey there, not to bother you, but I’ve noticed you’ve been on the tram for quite a while now. What exactly are you up to?”
“Well, I’m trying to get home, but-“
“You’ve been trying to get home for the past five hours?”
Shit, he got me.
“All right, to be honest, it’s a bet,” I said, giving him an embarrassed laugh.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.
“I told my friends I’d be able to stay on the tram for an entire week without getting off.”
For a moment, he just stared at me before he furrowed his brow.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, it really is,” I agreed.
“Well, not like I can kick you off for something like that. You’ve got a ticket on you, right?”
“Sure thing, got myself a weekly pass just for the Long Ride.”
Once more, he raised his eyebrows, and I was quick to tell him it was the name I came up with for this entire thing.
“Well, it’s dumb, really freaking dumb, but as long as you don’t cause any trouble, that’s it. Just try to stay clear of guys like the ones before.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
With that, the conversation was over, and the driver went outside to have a smoke.
About half an hour later, the tram started up again, the ride continued, and I settled down to sleep.
