You might be wondering how I, Mike Corbin, know everything that is to know about Fright Train. Blame my father. He has been feeding me information ever since that learned of the curse.

Dad is not in the train business, but he loves trains and anything pertaining to them. I would go as far as to say that he is obsessed. He spends more time with them than with Mom. Because of this, it has caused some rough spots in their marriage.

I am not interested in trains, but I do enjoy helping Dad with his model trains and seeing him happy. I like watching his trains move around the tracks and make noises, such as the whistles and bells. I feel as if I were on one of those model trains. Too bad that they remind me of Fright Train.

Dad believes that Fright Train is real. More real than me or him. It is not another conspiracy theory. The victims did not fake their deaths or commit suicide. They died by Fright Train. Once they stepped in, the door closed. They became ghosts and have ridden on Fright Train. It never stops until nighttime arrives.

"No way," I said. "There needs to be a way to escape the train. Break a window or kick the door open."

"This is Fright Train that we are talking about," Dad reminded me. "Since that it is cursed, nobody from the living can escape."

"You can break the curse, right? How do you break the curse?"

"I am not sure. I am beginning to think that there is no end to the curse, Mike." He placed a hand on my shoulder. "That is why I want you to be careful when you are outside. Fright Train will never rest until it has you. You will die from starvation and thirst and become a lost soul. Speaking of thirst..." He took a sip of his iced tea.

"Dad?"

He set his glass back on the train table. "Yes, Mike?"

"Why does Fright Train want me? You said one time that it is not always a random target. Why would the train pick me?"

Dad remained silent. Then he said, "I do not know for sure. But what I will say is that the train prefers young children. Young souls who believe that they have no purpose in life. It is easier to trick them."

I was dumbfounded by what he said - until I was the one that saved the day. I, Mike Corbin, brought an end to this deadly curse. But if that happened, then it would mean that I was trapped in the train.

I had a purpose in life. Or so I thought. I wanted to be a musician badly. Mom says that I have the heart of a true musician and was alright with buying me a flute as long as I practiced every day. Dad supported my career choice as well, but joked that I should be a conductor.

In my opinion, the flute plays the prettiest music. I own two flutes and always keep them clean. Both are silver. I use one during my practices. The other is a spare in case that my first one breaks. Mom and Dad were so impressed with how I treated my flutes that they signed me up for lessons.

How convenient that my next-door neighbor is an expert at playing the flutes. Mrs. Miller's house is filled with all types of instruments. Drums. Organs. Saxophones. You name it. Just like Dad is obsessed with trains, Mrs. Miller is obsessed with instruments and music. She told me that music relaxes her when she thinks of her husband.

One time when we finished the lessons early, Mrs. Miller told me the truth about her husband. And it revolved around Fright Train.

"I saw it with my own two eyes," Mrs. Miller stated, rocking back and forth in her rocking chair. "I saw the ghost train."

"You mean Fright Train?" I guessed correctly.

"How did you know, Mike?"

"My dad mentioned it to me. He knows all about the curse."

"That is a relief. Everyone should learn about Fright Train. I do not wish for any soul to end up like my husband."

It occurred five months ago. Mrs. Miller claimed that she was standing by her window and slurping on her coffee when she saw the ghost train known as Fright Train. It resembled a real train. The only thing that gave it away was that there were no train tracks.

"It was on the road. I swear," Mrs. Miller said, her eyes bulging from their sockets. "I may have poor eyesight, but I am right in the head."

"I believe you, Mrs. Miller."

Mrs. Miller knew of Fright Train at the time, so she was surprised that it was in front of her house. And it was parked, which meant it was luring a person of the living.

"Mike? Would you please hand me a tissue?"

I pulled a tissue out of the tissue box and gave it to her.

"Thank you, Mike. You are a dear." She blew into the tissue and sniffed. "I miss him so much. I would give anything to have him back in my life. I...would even join the lost souls of Fright Train."

I got on her level and rested my hand on hers. "You do not mean that."

"Yes, I do. I do not care if I ride the train forever as long as my husband is there. Then I would never be lonely again."

"But Mrs. Miller, you are not alone. You have me and your other students."

"You are my only student, Mike."

"Still, you have me. And you are always welcome at my house. My parents love your company."

She patted the top of my head. "Thank you for the reminder. But none of you are my husband. I will do whatever it takes to be with him again."