The Last Stop

It was a Tuesday. That's when David went missing. It didn't take long for rumor to get around that he was dead, that his parents had found him in the street, guts spilling out his mouth, arms and legs crushed and splintered like chewed-up toothpicks, bone shards spearing through his skin like sharp scissor blades. I didn't believe it at first. If anyone was to die, I would've guessed it would be someone like Georgette. She's always picking her nose in the back of the class and munching away at a bag of Cheetos or something. She was weird. But David. He was popular. People liked him. He was nice. He rode my bus. Why did he die?

The next day at school it was confirmed. David was dead and there would be a ceremony held at the field for him the following week. Everyone was upset, crying all over each other and hugging constantly. I hardly knew David, but even I was a bit shaken. I mean, it was the first time someone around me had died. I didn't know what to expect from myself.

That day I rode the bus home. All the seats were full so I had to share a seat with a pale black-haired girl. She looked slightly familiar, like I had seen her, but not really looked at her. Her hair was as black as the rubber on a tire, her clothes the same. Her eyes were drowned in dark makeup, making them all the more intense.

"Hello," she said, quite brightly for someone dressed so darkly, "My name's Steph."

"Damian," I replied, offering a half smile.

"So, how about that David kid, huh?" Steph said excitedly in a low voice. "I heard he rode this bus."

"Mhmm," I murmured rather apathetically.

"Did you know him?"

"Nope."

Silence.

"Well, ok."

The rest of the ride we both stared off in opposite directions, bathing in the rare quietness of the bus. I guess there's a brightside to this whole death thing. Everybody just shuts up for a while.

As I deboarded the bus at my stop, the bus driver leaned down and said, "Too bad about that David guy, huh?"

I just nodded and walked to my house. All this would blow off in a month or two. People seemed to forget tragedy easily as time went on. Though, I guess it was nice of the bus driver to say something like that.

It was another week until the second death. A woman walking her dog at night had come across Marie's mangled body thanks to her dog. It was in the same condition David's body had been in, except this time Marie had been dragged into some rose bushes alongside the road in one of her neighbour's yards. The woman who found her had reported smelling something strange but had thought nothing of it until her dog plunged into the bushes and she went in to retrieve him. Her scream woke everyone in the neighbourhood.

That day at school the principal came on the loudspeaker to give everyone a lengthly lecture on drunk driving and looking both ways before crossing streets. What was this? Elementary school? Gimme a break.

Hysteria was beginning to break out at school. People could usually manage one death, but two? The staff and students were sent home for the day. On the bus ride home I sat next to Steph again.

"I knew her, you know." She said in a matter-of-fact way.

"You did?"

"Yep. Last year we were bus buddies. We sat together everyday on this same bus." She was looking off into the distance now, her face heavy with an attempt at hiding her sadness.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'd tell you I know what you're going through, but... I don't."

She laughed. Not a real laugh though.

"It's ok, we stopped being friends last summer when she got entirely obsessed with her new boyfriend. I haven't talked to her in months."

As I got off the bus I noticed there were some white roses tied to the door of the vehicle.

"That's nice," I said to the bus driver as I got off.

"They're for Maria." He replied, a sad smile on his face. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "What's your name again?"

"Damian." I half-smiled.

"You can call me Mr. Safely."

I nodded politely as the bus door slowly squeaked shut and drove away, put-put-put.

Late that night I tossed restlessly in my bed, unable to get to sleep for hours. When I finally managed to doze off (thanks to some properly abused cold medicine), I was surrounded by bright lights, and loud noises. And then I saw Steph standing silently, head bent forward, dark wet hair covering her face. There was a pool of something black spreading out from around her, crawling in all directions from her feet as if it were alive. I tried to run to her, but my legs were too slow, my feet tripping on nothing. And right when I was almost there, she looked up and blood spilled out of her pale lips. Except, it wasn't Steph. It was David.

To be Continued...
Lame.