If Only She Didn't Sit There

(TW: Sensitive content, guns)“Bye mom, I’ll see you after soccer practice!” My crocs squeaked as I headed out the door. My Jansport backpack bobbed up and down as I walked to the bus stop. The yellow bus creaked loudly, as always. The heavy smell of gasoline had always grossed me out. I've never been able to deal with the nasty, black smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe. I grabbed onto the old, rusty handrails. “When I was a kid, I got tetanus from those.” My old, crusty bus driver announced to me. “Yes, I know. You say that every day.” I just wish he could shut up for once in his old life. I noticed a girl was in my usual seat, so I had to sit in the back, near the emergency exit.

STOP ONE. I put my head against the frosted bus window, hitting it aggressively on a speed bump. I cover my mouth, muting my yelp. I take a deep breath, in….out..in..out. I do not  want to have a panic attack in front of the popular kids at my school. Our bus driver does a jake brake, as always.   Several groans arose on the bus, as the thumping noise echoed. A tall kid in a black hoodie and sweatpants sat down right next to me, not even asking if he could sit there. I blew my hair out of the way and ignored it.

STOP TWO. I put my headphones in, turning on Dark Red by Steve Lacy. I blast the music on max volume, looking out the window. I see a black crow in one of the dead trees. “Something bad is about to happen to me,” the song plays after. Shivers rile up my spine. The bus comes to a stop, letting the next group of kids get on the bus. Another kid, dressed like the kid sitting next to me, walks on, hands in pockets. As I go back to ignoring everyone, I see three crows, sitting on an overhead cable. Once the bus creaked to drive away, they flew away from the ‘danger.’ My face reflected in the window, acne all over my face. I got a sense of deja vu as I looked into my lifeless, bloody reflection. I leaned and tilted around, my brain unfocused. I felt a sharp pain in my arm, as I turned around to see the man in the black hoodie injecting something into me. For some reason, I just sat there. Not yelling, not scrambling for help. I just sat there, letting the man inject what I believe was a drug into me. I felt my world spin, everything moving, my head throbbing with pain. I hold my head with my overly moist hands. It was sweat. I was drenched with sweat from everything that was going on. I slid my headphones off, dropping them onto the ground. That’s when I knew everything was going to change. 

STOP THREE. The bus came to a light stop, which felt like we just crashed into an elephant for me. I laid there, about to black out as I looked outside to see two crows. As we hit a bump, I blacked out. I woke up to a loud ringing in my ear, making me wince. I covered my ears, but I felt a liquid dripping. It was blood, blood was coming out of my ears. I felt a strong force pick me up. “Everyone put your hands up, NOW! This is a hijacking.” The man holding me yelled. “Or, I’ll kill this girl!” I felt a cold metal aggressively hit the side of my head. I realized it was a gun. I was going to be killed. “Everyone, drop your valuables, phones, ANY electronic or expensive thing you own in the aisle, before I SHOOT her.” The voice seemed familiar, but then again, I was delusional. My head was pounding, again, and my knees went weak. A gunshot fired.   A bullet hole was right next to my head, in the seat. Several people screamed at the top of their lungs. The second man in the hoodie yelled from the front, “Don’t make me kill you.” He pulled out a semi-automatic rifle, shooting the bus driver. “I will. I just did it to him anyway!” He had a sense of excitement in his voice. I bit my hand, muting my screams. I heard sobbing everywhere. I should be at school right now, in science class, dissecting frogs. Sitting in the back, next to my best friend, talking about how funny the frog looks. I shouldn’t be held captive, about to get shot. 

FINAL STOP. The gun’s safety clicked off. My heart raced faster than a ball that just got kicked towards a goal. The second guy had his gun pointed towards everybody else on the bus. They both had the look of hatred in their eyes, at its strongest. My eyes filled with tears. I wanted to cry so bad; I knew I was going to die, but I still had a chance. I heard a kid hurl behind me. Bam. A gunshot rang out and a bullet went through his head, breaking the window behind him. The girl next to him shrieked and quickly suffered the same fate. The other guy smiles at me, as I shut my eyes, thinking of what my life could have been. I could have graduated, happily, I could continue my dream of being a surgeon. I could have learned Spanish, traveled the world. I could have followed my dreams. Of course not. I was stuck, dying on Bus Eleven. I opened my eyes to see the men trying to kick down the bus door, which was locked. My old bus driver locked the doors, buying enough time for the cops to arrive. I’ll miss him, but I won’t miss the reminder he got tetanus. The two men looked at each other in a panic, realizing they couldn't get out. Tick, tick, boom.