The Bus ride of a Psycho (*Note* all the following content is just a side story and may or may not

The Bus ride of a Psycho
(*Note* all the following content is just a side story and may or may not be related to my other stories about Sabriela)

I am 18 years old and I still don’t feel alive, and no, this is not a dairy. I think my name was Sarah at one point now I am forgotten. I never had any real friends, no one to talk to and no sleepovers. Many things to me seem fake others tend to avoid my hollowness. My father died last year (but I have said that every year since I was 6 years old), there is no knowing why. He may have taken the bus. Now even with my jester, I am alone. My jester may be real or fake I don’t really care, he isn’t funny, and visits less and less. I had a stuffed toy to represent him.
Have you ever got on a bus and realized that this bus is the reason that there are less and less people in the world. This bus has the lingering smell of death, but it won’t kill you on the first ride, no, it has more patience than me. I get on the bus every day, I ride but I don’t know why. Today I ride sitting near the back. This is the only bus that drives all day. People get on and people go, the day passes even as we drive slowly through the city. This bus will kill me one day; I just can’t get the strength to not get on. A couple gets on just to make out. Right on time a man gets on stumbling and tripping as if drunk. As he reaches the seat before mine seat he sits and removes the money from his newly acquired
wallets. He leaves them on the seat as he gets off at the next stop. Way past sun down is the end of the ride. When I leave the bus returns to a building. I stalk the back streets near my home. The blank look on my face scares away all the small time punks out of my side of town, as always. I get to the front door and feel I am being watched. Putting my hood up I look around, seeing no one I go in.
Making pizza, a voice in my head speaks. “You should do something.” Typically I answer it with the “I am!” line. “You should get a job.” it whispers in my ear, I try to ignore it. “You should get a job.” It says again, the voice ringing in my ears as I pass out on the couch. Why would change anything, I might reach a reality.
I rode the bus in my dreams and I am the only one on. I have never seen the drivers face so I thought I would try. His face was gone; not invisible, or see-through but not there. I woke to smoke and burning walls, an ax tearing into my door. It is still an early Sunday night. As the fireman ushered me out I grabbed my doll. When the fire was out investigation officers shifted through the chard timbers of what was left of my building. I kept my life to a small triangle of rooms consisting of the kitchen, living room and bath room, so it was a little surprising when an officer said that the origin of the fire was the bed room( which made me laugh,). The voice in my head said exactly what I was thinking “Since when have there been flames in that bed room.” I thought
about the pizza in the oven, not being the origin should be done about now (which also made me laugh,). But this was not the time to think anything was funny let alone the origin of the fire. My enlongigated laughing had got the attention of one of the detectives. This guy seemed normal until he was looking at you. The lack of sleep he’d had made his gray eyes seem demonic to an over imaginative teenager. He seemed a bit taller than the other detectives who made him seem all the more intimidating, which is why when he started to walk towards me (slowly because of his being tired but steady from his interest) the voice in my head screamed “RUN!!” so I turned and ran. The voice telling me to go faster, any sleepiness was gone now gaining momentum I ran to the library and hid in the safest place I could find, the fiction section between ghosts and magic I felt hidden.
Even though he gave up on the chase soon after it started I hid for a few hours, eventually falling asleep. I woke to the librarian telling me it is past closing time and I have leave. The night sky was unusually clear and the moon half empty. I was about to walk home when I realized that I had a long way to walk. The bus is waiting at the bus stop so I start towards it, the voice in my head says not to, the closer I get the more I feel the creepy feeling as if the bus wants me to get on. A few minutes pass and the bus hasn’t moved. “The bus has no schedule at night.” the voice in my head tells me. I reach the stop and the doors open. Only the driver is on the bus. I woke to the librarian telling me it is past closing time and I have leave. The night sky was unusually clear and the moon half empty. I was about to walk home when I realized that I had no home to go to. The bus is waiting at the bus stop and the voice in my head started to tell me again when the bus has schedule. That bus will get me one day but not just yet. I start to walk in the opposite direction and the bus pulls up to the next stop and waits, this continues for a while till I walk up a one way street then down an ally. I walk till I am board then I find a bench in a park and fall asleep.
The sun wakes me a few hours later and I try to think about what to do. “You should get a job.” The voice whispers. I want to get away from this place not settle down. “You need money for everything you want.” The voice states as if I know nothing. I may seem child-like but I put my ID and check book in the first thing I would grab in any situation, my doll. I walk to a pawn shop and ask around for a part time job. I told every place that I tried that the adoption agency I was about to be released from was recently burned down, and I would fill out a proper application once I can get my information from the state. After visiting a new place I got a job at the mall, a few jobs at the mall and another at the DMV. All part time so I could keep moving. I started right away because the first job was short handed. Hot dog stand vender. As the time passed quickly I moved from one job to another watching people thinking about how different I have been gliding through existence. While working at the shoe section I found a lost kid. He had tan hair and a school uniform.

[BREAK}

I talked and played with him till he could spot his mom in the mall, when I walked the boy over we talked for a while and the conversation ended with me having a nightly babysitting job. The mom was an editor for a magazine and her husband was a cop, they both work late but their boy is too old for a normal day care. So I will be sitting him for a few hours after school till his mom gets home, then on some days of the week end. At two in the evening I took a nap on my bench. I woke a while later and went to my last job of the day, the DMV.
This was the slowest job I have ever had in the history of time, unlike a library where you can put away books if you get board, there is nothing to do. So that I can seem skilled when there is actually a customer I made a few bogus IDs. Finding this fun I made a fake ID for my-self as the following: Sabriela Hellena, age 18, I even doctored my picture. While shredded the others (like I was supposed to do to all my practice pieces) I pocketed my fake. After my last job I found my-self a cheap apartment and got some things that made it easier to live in, like a couch and food. I visited the pawn shop again and got a few pieces of clothing. All things that can make me seem less the person I was last night. I don’t want to see that cop again. This seems like a low profile enough area. I get rid of my other ID not even looking at it, Feeling happy that I got the number for the sitting job and didn’t even say my name. I get a cell phone, (the number; 555-4392). With the cupboard stocked with dry and canned foods I fall asleep on the couch.

The night swirls by as I attempt to get on the bus again. This time the driver tries to grab me and pull me on. Quitting this bus is like trying to quit smoking. When it wants you it can send things out to get you. Many have failed with their feeble attempts to resist. The longer my dream lasted the more I began to feel drained from my constant resistance. I woke to a cat yelling that he wanted in. I let him in and gave him some fish jerky and water. He had no collar, just an F shaped brown spot on his belly. I decided to call him Friend, or Tony for short. “How do you get ‘Tony’ from Friend?” The voice in my head asks. I have no need to answer. I cleaned up and finally ate something. My new building was almost empty, drab and run down. Not many people would want a place like this short of a criminal, Perfect for someone trying to keep a low profile.
The day was just about the same till the end, when I went to pick up the kid from school. It is Tuesday, when the boy sees me he smiles. His face reminds me of some one that I know, but I don’t know who. We walk to his home playing the guessing game. Being with this six year old was fun. He was the type who knew what was supposed to be done and when. I kept thinking that this boy was older that he actually was. At the house he did his homework then we played another game. We made dinner together and he saved a dish for his mom in the fridge. When he was done eating he cleaned his dish. His mom arrived at 8 o’clock, 15 minutes before his bedtime and he was already set for bed. The pay wasn’t bad $13 an hour; I came home with $65 just from that one job. I
figure I’d have enough to get out of here by the end of next month. That is counting in that the bus doesn’t get me by then. I hope it doesn’t will it follow me to a new location or will there be another one waiting for me. The week follows pretty much the same; I learned the boy and the mothers’ names; Sheryl and Carl.
I was walking through the park thinking about Friend, I had taken the route to hide from the bus that seemed to follow me on the main streets. “I should get him something,” I said aloud “like a cat toy.” “What about a new ‘cat’ fishing rod?” The voice in my head suggested. I liked its idea so I went to the shop and got a bunch of cat fishing lures and a rod. I got lots of fluffy and glittered weights to pretend I am fishing for the cat with. Putting them together on my way home I was ready to go fishing for Friend. It was so irresistible that I had to try my hand at casting be for I got home.