Travel-Snack

As I re-entered my car, I was hoping to see some reaction to what had just happened outside, but there was no crying, no screaming, no official figure giving answers of any kind, not that it would be needed, since no one was asking questions. Everything was as I had left it, peaceful, like an ordinary train ride.
I had a sudden urge to yell out, to ask what was wrong with them, and why were they not affected by what they witnessed. Each face I saw had a serene expression or smile, some were even sleeping, might've slept through the whole event. Casual conversations, business talks, storytelling and even some jokes... I started feeling nauseated again, so I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

A child's laughter caught my attention. A child of no more than 7 years old. How could she have gone through that experience and remain unchanged?
I could see my seat behind the child, and sitting across from it was a hood, pilgrim's hood.
I quickened my pace, and soon enough was standing in front of pilgrim. She didn't look up.
"Okay this is how it's gonna happen: I'm going to ask questions, you are going to answer to the best of your knowledge. You're going to be direct in you answers."

She didn't react.

"I've been mind-probed, witnessed a sacrifice, puked my guts out, don't know where I am and have no sense of time, not to mention my recent personal life. So as you can imagine I'm at the edge of my patience."

Still no reaction.
"Now I am going to sit down and start my questions."

I slowly sat down and looked straight at her hood. The black patterns looked like Greek letters scribbled on top of each other but without any apparent order at first glance. The biggest clusters were sown close to the ears and neck, but I could see smaller ones all over the head.

She pulled her hood back and faced me. I took that as my queue.
"What on earth just happened? And why did it happen?"