Bus Stop

The apocalypse is near! Repent!

The words written in scrawny handwriting and on a brown carton was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. While trying to wriggle out of the nap I just had, I have no recollection of where I am or what am I doing. A few seconds of rubbing my eyes and forcing them to open, I then realized two things: I’m inside the bus and were at a bus stop. The latter helped me to piece the mystery of those words in red as the view on my window. The sign was held up by a man, who probably took the challenge “No Shave November”, clad in a brown coat and pants-- which, I assume, haven’t been in the laundry machine for months.

A loud hiss made me jumped in my seat and turned towards the sound, which is by the door. It was only then I noticed that the bus got crowded. I looked back at the man by my window but caught only a glimpse of him as the bus started moving. I slumped in my seat and checked my watch: thirty minutes before eight. Based on the current location, I have thirty minutes or so before reaching my stop. Letting out a yawn, I decided to take another nap. I set my alarm and drifted back to sleep.

***

A bump in the road jolted me out of my dreamless sleep and almost out of my chair. I checked my watch: 7:50. Frantic, I looked at the window and saw that I’m nearing my destination. As I stood up, I noticed that there were no people aboard anymore. Being in the middle section, I turned around to see if there were still at the back. None. My heart was racing. No, it’s fine. It’s normal, I said to myself. Some people might have gotten off early. That’s the only explanation, I said, trying to calm all my nerves. I decided to move up front, beside the driver. At least the driver didn’t disappear, I chuckled to myself, glad to have my sense of humor to help me cope at distress times.

“Umm, I get off at the next stop,” I said softly when I reached the steps, not looking at the driver.

“I’m sorry miss but the next stop isn’t for another thirty minutes. You could sleep for a while.”

Surprised at his response, I faced him: he’s not the driver from when I got on the bus.

“Miss, I suggest you get back on your seat, it’s not safe standing here,” he said when I still stood there, hands on my mouth.

“Okay, if you insist, at least grab the handles or the rails, you could fall. I’m telling you, going to where we are is not a smooth road,” he continued, not taking his eyes off the road, not even once.

Finding my voice, I asked him, “Whe-where are we going, exactly?”

“Well, I don’t know either, I’m just going to drop you off and then they will decide whether to send you to Heaven or Hell.”

My eyes widened and my legs began to feel wobbly. I reached for the rail and sat on the nearest chair.

“Ah great that you finally sat down. We all value safety here, miss.”

“He-Heaven or Hell?”, I asked, more to myself than to him. “And I think it’s hopeless to think that they’re hotel names by any chance?”, I said with a chuckle.

“Please sit tight miss, were almost there.”

Not wanting to ask anymore questions to make this all too real, I went back to my original seat before this all happened. I pinched my cheeks and arms, wanting and hoping this is all a dream. Nothing. I was still here, inside an empty bus with, I assumed, a reaper as a driver.

***

Five minutes after accepting the unavoidable fact that this a ride to wherever souls go, I decided to find ways to escape. Cheating death? Maybe, maybe not. It’s worth a try. I mean, I literally have nothing to lose now. I tried opening my window. Nothing.

“Well, it woundn’t be that easy or else heaven and hell would be short of souls,” I said with hands on my hips. I turned back to see my reaper slash driver. It looks like he is humming to the song “I’ll be There For You” from the sitcom Friends. Don’t think I have no questions with this repear business. I have lots of them. But right now, I’m just thankful that he is distracted, and that he doesn’t hum to “Highway to Hell”.

Knowing that I have time, I moved to the back of the bus and started trying to open the windows.

***

Almost out of breath and out of windows, I find myself almsot at the driver’s seat with only one window left. I heard no click and no sign of an escape route. I was praying that this would be it, though I am not so sure that God allows a soul to ditch death. But hey, worth a try. With my eyes closed and with all the faith I could muster, I tried the last window. But then, the bus came to a screeching halt.

No, no, no, no! I screamed in my head.

“Are we aready there?”, almost screamed at the entire bus.

The reaper turned his face to me and gave me smile. If it was for assurance, then it wasn’t successful. “Well, yes and no. You’ll see when you step out. I just take my orders. Thanks for being a good passenger though. You rarely made a fuss.”

I ignored him and looked towards the door. I guess you can’t outrun fate or death. I could feel my body being controlled towards the door, as if there’s a giant magnet. I let, whatever it is that makes my wobbly legs walk, drag me until I am face to face with the door. I looked back to my reaper and saw him giving me a big smile and a thumbs up. As unnerving as it seems, I managed to gave him back a weak curve of my lips. I saw him pushed a button and the door hissed. A yellow “Bus Stop” sign greeted me. And as a habit, I checked my watch: 8:15. I took the deepest breath I could manage and stepped out. As soon as I touched the pavement, a white light swallowed me.

***

“Heart rate’s rising”

Where am I?

“Oxygen levels good.”

Oxygen?

“Pulse is steadying.”

Is this heaven?

“Eyes are opening.”

What is that light? Please let this be heaven.

“Hello miss, can you hear me?”

Yes, I can hear you. Please stop shouting.

I blinked my eyes and I can see blurry white figures. Angels?

“Miss, you were in an accident. Please stay calm, you’re alright. We got you,” the white figure beside me said. When my eyes can finally decipher things, I see doctors and nurses with their white coats and dangling stethoscopes.

“Where am I?” I managed to say despite the dryness in my throat.

“You’re in a hospital. Your bus got into an accident. Most of you are injured. You have a fractured rib and a head trauma. You lost a lot of blood. In fact, we almost lost you--”

“What time?”, I interrupted.

The doctor looked at me as if she didn’t understand the language I spoke. “Excuse me?”

“What time did I flatline?”

“Oh, uh, it was 7:50”, she said, still confused.

I almost smiled. “What time is it now?”

“Uh,” she rolled her sleeves up to check her watch, “8:15. Why?”

Ignoring her question and confused looks, I laid back down with a grin on my face. Maybe my prayer was answered, I thought.

“Miss, we’re going to put you to sleep. Okay?”, the doctor said while injecting something to my IV.

I nodded.

Before the sedatives embraced me, I swore I heard someone humming the themesong of Friends.