The acrid smell of smoke wafts through the air. I’m in a tight compartment on a train, speeding through Mogadishu, Somalia. I’m in the second to last part of the train and I can hear the wind whistling through a window that somebody must have opened. There are about ten other people in the compartment. As I am listening to the wind, I start noticing changes. First, the sound intensifies and I feel the train speed up. The sound is then destroyed completely as the train’s movement is entirely cut off in an instant and I’m thrown into the wall. As I sit up, I am greeted with completely new perspective.


I look around and I notice how most people are getting back on their feet, but I also see an old woman curled up in obvious pain. I see a pretty, young blonde woman trying to calm a crying baby. Something about her catches my eye, but before I have time to put my finger on it I hear the shots. The sound is emitting from the front of the train and even though we are in no immediate danger, everybody plummets to the ground with their fingers woven together tight behind their heads. Everybody is silent and even the baby has stopped crying. We all know what is happening even though no one has acknowledged it. Piracy is very common here.


We wait in silence as we hear shot after shot until eventually two pirates enter the train car. One of them stands guard and the other moves to the next car. I figure that every train has a one pirate to guard. I take a look at our guard. I can’t see his face because he is facing toward the front of the train and he’s wearing a ski mask, a soft gray t-shirt, and black jeans with tight, tan sandals. He is of average height and has skinny arms. In his hand he is clumsily holding an AK-74u and keeps pulling the bolt back to check his ammo.


He catches me staring and is filled with rage as he points the gun at me. He starts screaming fowl incantations in a language I can’t understand. I am afraid I am going to die with my family back home still anticipating my arrival. He is at the boiling point and his finger is on the trigger, ready to pull at any given second. Just when I think I am about to die, praying for my family and the truth they deserve to know about my death, the train speeds up and he is thrown off balance. I take that precise second to grab the barrel of the gun and yank it from his hand. He has no time to react as I slide behind him and grab his neck with my arms. He is gasping for air and clawing at my arms as he slowly slips into unconsciousness.
I check the gun with far greater training than he had had, and I notice the space behind the bolt is damaged far beyond immediate repair. I throw the gun out the window in frustration and hear it hit the rough, rocky ground with a solid clunk. I search the unconscious man for anything of use and find a pistol, a knife, some ammo, and one hand grenade. I open the door to the next car slowly with the knife on my belt and pistol drawn and ready to fire. I see the lone pirate standing guard, not paying much attention, and behind him is my only chance of survival. I take aim and pull the trigger twice. I hear him drop, but I refuse to watch him fall. No one is in this car but I hear the footsteps bounding toward me from the other cars and I know what to do to survive.
I sprint towards the door at the end of the train and ram it with all the force in me. I find myself on a large metal platform where the tracks race by under my feet. I spin around and see the door opposite me open and six pirates enter. I pull the pen and send the grenade flying towards them. I spin around and I hear several shots fired at me as I leap over the railing in hopes of survival. A bullet catches my leg and I collide with the ground. Jolts of pain shoot through my entire body and the last thing I hear before I fade out of consciousness is the grenade going off and the train racing its way into oblivion.