The Natures Of Pain

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 41 (v.1) - Night Bus

Submitted: October 18, 2017

Reads: 94

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Submitted: October 18, 2017



I finally made it to the bus stop. Tick. Tick. Tick. Three minutes have pass. I twittle my thumbs. Tick. Tick. Tick. I look up and see the Gorge Town bus coming.

The tranquil tempo of my pulsing muscle begins to go off rhythm. The agony of it’s quicken beat worst than the one before.

Whoosh. My breath becomes still. Stretch. The doors unbolt.  I board the bus, show the bus driver the light blue pass, then scurry to the nearest seat.

The lights, blue and chilled. I ignore. Calm, calm, calm. That was all I said. The power of the chant began to sooth…flicker.

Ba-dum…. Ba-dum… Ba-dum... Ba-dum... Ba-dum.. Ba-dum.., my heart cries. Hands clenched, it felt like the darkness would consume me.  Flicker. The blue lights that were once gone a second before were on once more. Pull. The bus is about.

Sniff, sniff. Stomach turns. Nose crinkles. It’s...CIGARETTES.... Without my consent, my eyse follows the faded trail, my gaze falling on the wretched source. A man, he sits undisturbed. Black and yellow jacket, rounded glasses, blue fade jeans, and old brown shoes are all that he wears. A yellow HERTZ imprinted on the upper right of the jacket. 

He turns my way. Will he greet me? Horrid vibes ran though my systems and cause my throat to choke on my words till they were no more. No, no he won't. Instead, he gave me a look, a nasty look, a look that set fear in any demon. Like the devil. I shield my face and coward in my seat.


But I know who’s getting off. I knew all along. Maybe, perhaps that was my reason for fixating my vision to the ground. Vibrate. Roar.

One…two…three. I see the old brown shoes stand on their own and my nightmare becomes a reality. He walks to the stairs ever so leisurely. When he finally gets there I get up my self. 

And with every step toward the stairs I can feel his mockery of me so stalwartly. With him still in my sight I turn and tell the bus diver good night, he says you too and I’m off. I turn to face him once more but he vanished.

Perhaps I’m not to face my demons tonight. I turn and watch the crimson lights of the bus fade into the darkness. And with it, it’s thunderous engine.

Standing there in complete silent of the dead night, I ask my self a question:


Are all night buses like that or was I just lucky?

© Copyright 2019 Nick Nicosa. All rights reserved.


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