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The Bus

In stories, the heroine with lightning-fast reflexes would have instantly analyzed the situation, dropped flat to the ground and let the bus simply roll right over her with barely a quarter inch to spare. It’s even possible that this fictional heroine would have jumped back diagonally and avoided the impact. Maybe. But I’m not a heroine and that’s not what happened. I’m strong and I’ve got good stamina, but fast as lightning isn’t my thing. I just did what any regular girl would have done. I froze in terror and waited for the bus to hit me. Or at least that’s what should have happened.

I had taken a shortcut home from the university library and I was coming out of the alley between the laundromat and Tiny’s Fitness Center on General Avenue with my arms full of books and my mind full of plans for the day. I needed to eat lunch before Uncle Magnum got to the house for our Kung Fu lesson and then I really needed to sit down and read a few chapters of the Stock Picking for Dummies book I’d just gotten from the library. I knew that it was way early to start working on the Junior Year stock market competition, since I’m still a Sophomore, but my friend James was determined to win next year, and I wasn’t going to let him down. James, Eva and I were going to spend some time over the summer learning about stocks and planning our investment strategies.

The sound of squealing tires focused my attention back to the present and I saw the bus narrowly missing a very surprised girl wearing earbuds and holding a cellphone in her hand. She had zombied herself past a parked truck and out in front of the oncoming bus. As I watched the bus veer sharply to the right and miss the girl by less than a foot, I could see the bus driver’s head turn to see if the girl was ok. Unfortunately for me, his turned head didn’t let him see that his course change put me right in his new path.

In the movies, a dashing hunk would have come out of nowhere and tackled me to safety, skillfully twisting us both in midair so that his body absorbed the impact with the ground. In the comics, Superman would have arrived just in time to stop the bus one-handed, saving the terrified young girl, who had frozen in terror at the sight of a bus bearing down on her. That would have been nice. In real life though, I was about to go splat.

Rooted to the ground with a city bus about to plow into me, my life did not flash before my eyes. Instead, my perception of everything around me sped up and I had time to notice the bus’s number (161) and that the bus was nearly empty (only 8 passengers). More importantly, I was able to watch as the bus driver faded away, along with all his passengers. First, they lost all color, becoming a grey version of themselves, quickly fading into a dim outline of their former selves before disappearing completely. Just before the bus was supposed to hit me, it too greyed out and passed through me. The ghosted bus kept going and I was watching the interior of the bus pass by. Rows of empty seats passed through me and before I was halfway to the end, the bus faded out completely leaving me undamaged on the sidewalk. That’s when the buildings around me started greying out. In a few short seconds, I was standing in a wide-open area, with no people or cars or buildings in sight. Just emptiness all around me.

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My heart was hammering in my chest and my whole body felt like jello. I should be dead or severely injured at least, but I hadn’t been touched. Was I dreaming? Had I been hit and this was my mind’s way of coping? Studying my surroundings for any clues that I wasn’t in the waking world, I expected to see a bunny hop out of nowhere and tell that it was late. No bunnies appeared. Nothing stirred. All I saw was a vast open area, with no trees or grass, just bare dirt as far as the eye could see. Only rectangular holes, marking the foundations and basements of the buildings that used to exist marred the evenness of the landscape.

Living in a city, even a small one like Spring Fort, North Carolina, there are always sounds. People talking, footfalls, cars passing by, dogs barking, insects buzzing, the hum of air conditioners or heaters. Even wind can be noisy. But there was nothing here. No noise at all. No wind. No insects. No birds. Just utter quiet.

“Hello?!”, I called out. Relief thrummed within my mind as I heard my own voice. I could still hear. I let out a breath. I heard that too! I hadn’t realized that I was holding my breath before.

I took a step forward and my stomach cramped up in pain. I doubled over and a pulling sensation started in my stomach and quickly spread to my whole body. The feeling intensified and I was sure that I was going to fall over. I felt like I was at the end of a rubber band that had been pulled to the end of it’s stretchiness and I was about the snap back. Without a sound, I felt the snap and I was back on General Avenue. The buildings were back, just the way they were before, and there was noise. Beautiful noise. And people. People running? Oh yeah, the bus. It had only been a few seconds since I was(n’t) hit by the bus, but it seemed much longer.

Turning around, I saw the back end of the bus. Moving a few feet to the side showed me that the front end was wedged about two feet into the front façade of the real estate agency next to the laundromat. People were running towards the bus to see if anyone was hurt. I joined the growing crowd and could see several people had their phones out filming the scene. One idiot zombie was taking a selfie with the crashed bus in the background. I hoped that at least one of these people had the brains to call 911.

Making my way to the front of the bus, I saw the front door, now situated just outside the crashed in agency facade, open and a passenger staggered out, looking disheveled and relieved. Some thoughtful people took her away from the bus to sit down on a nearby bench and made sure she was ok. Within a few minutes, the seven other passengers and the driver were all accounted for. Thankfully, no one was injured, only shaken up.

Now that things were settling down, I kept expecting someone to come up to me and say,” Hey! I thought I saw the bus hit you. How come you’re not dead?” or “Holy Shit! You popped out of nowhere after the bus hit the building.” I looked around and didn’t see anyone staring at me with bulging eyes. Not a single strange look was coming my way. No one was taking any notice of me at all. I realized that no one had seen me not get hit by the bus and my sudden appearance behind the bus had also gone unnoticed. I smiled in relief. What had happened was already weird enough and I didn’t need to add public scrutiny to my list of troubles.

The bus driver was on his cell, talking to someone from the bus company, as I slowly backed away from the scene. I didn’t want to eavesdrop on his conversation, and I definitely didn’t want to wait for the police to arrive. It was time to make myself scarce and I quietly made my way home.

My house was in sight by the time it occurred to me to wonder if there were street cameras that had recorded the whole incident.

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