I can hear the rough wheels of the bus, ringing through my headphones. The music isn’t loud enough. 20 more minutes till I get home so I can be berated for something out of my control. I look through the window once again as i try to push the volume of the music i'm listening to past the limit. I fail once again.
“There isn’t much use in doing this”
I say this to myself. After all, I’ve seen this exact road 20 million times.
‘Maybe.’
But it doesn’t stop me from doing it.
The lady behind me most definitely thinks I’m insane. Talking to yourself isn’t something sane people do after all.
I look down at my phone
[ Breath or Castle Ballad ]
Memories peek in and out through my mind as the song reaches it's final chords.
"I wish it was summer."
“Might be sooner than you think boy."
A shiver runs through my body. There aren't many people on this bus at this hour, and I certainly am not expecting someone to talk to me. Most normal people wont bother replying to someone talking to themselves after all. It is the advent of a technological age after all. Even then . . . I was whispering.
The next song starts
[ Requiem K.626: Lacrimosa ]
I look at my new bus mate as she walks to the chair in front of me. Her short silky silver hair fashioned in a bob cut bounces as she sits. She turns around. I’m shaken. Were my eyes too glued to her to notice she noticed me? She smirks.
“You better buckle up” I’m confused . . . What does she mean by that?
“What do you mean, there isn’t even any seat-”
An explosion rips through my eardrums.
The noise carries itself forcefully through the windows as they shatter. My back is slammed to the ceiling of the bus. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts. My head hurts . . .
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
The bus is in flames, I can feel the plastic sticking to my skin, and seeing how I’m on the ceiling of the bus i am 100% sure that the bus was flipped over. I can barely see the other people that were on the bus, but at this point i don't care. What i care about right now, is not dying. I can feel the burning plastic on my hands, so I try standing up. No such luck. Seems I’ve broken my leg, but for some reason, I’m not freaking out as much as I thought I’d be for my first time breaking a bone. I look up to see one of the passengers with their neck snapped. Their empty eyes stare straight at me, and the longer I look the faster I can feel myself go crazy with the pain. My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text.
‘How was your job interview ?’
It’s my dad. I can’t help but laugh to myself at the comment, as I think to myself.
‘I definitely didn’t get the job’ But before I can even get the chuckle out, a searing pain travels my back.
“I’ve really gotta get the fuck out of here”
I start dragging myself out of the bus to the chorus of the song playing through my headphones. Classical music like this fit perfectly and I can't help but be happy at how it helps soothe me even though I feel like I'm about to die. But finally, as I dig my hands into concrete, and as the music crawls forward into its crescendo I am greeted by a sight that will forever be burned into my mind.
People’s body parts are melting into the concrete, and the remains of their guts are seen scattered in random places. The smell of burnt meat can be seen in the air as there is a thick red fog that quietly starts setting down. People who seem to be in a similar position to me are dragging themselves on the concrete but they're missing entire body parts. I can see one guy crawling on fours as parts of his brain slosh out of his skull. A girl carrying her own leg as she cries in pain. A boy struggling to keep his eyes open as he realizes he no longer has the lower part of his body.
'fuck . . .'
I want to look away but I can't. It's gruesome, much more gruesome than anything i've ever seen in my sheltered city boy life. I feel my stomach churn.
'fuck . . .'
I am almost stuck to the concrete, as the sight burns itself into my retinas but i hear a voice that quickly pulls my eyes away.
“ONE IS ALIVE AND WHOLE GRAB HIM AND LET’S GET OUT OF HERE”
A man with a dirtied white shirt and cargo shorts runs towards me, and as a hint of relief comes across his face he hurls me on his back and runs towards a nearby car. I close my eyes.