It's 8.30 p.m. The bus will be arriving soon. It is usually on time but there are days when it is ten to fifteen minutes late. Today is one of those days. The sky has been raining since morning as well although now it is merely just a drizzle.
I grabbed my phone to check the next bus schedule and realize I have some time to spare before the bus arrives. I took out a notebook from my backpack and started writing. I was working on a new story. I haven't had the proper time to do any writing because I was caught up with my university classes and assignments.
The story that I'm writing. I want this one to be the best of all I've written before. I want the story to be able to touch the hearts of others but I just can't seem to figure it out. Something was missing. While I was pondering about what to write, the rain got heavier. I could see the rainwater slowly hitting my notebook. This bus stop in particular was special to me. It was covered in foliage. Vines and flowers circle the poles of the bus stop like grapevines. A large tree grew beside the bus stop, providing shade for anyone who stands underneath it. It is like nature has chosen this very stop to be its home and everyone just left it as it is.
The bus arrived, slightly splashing rainwater onto the pathway. I lined up to board the bus and took my place at the window seat. Water droplets run down the window as the bus started moving.
It was such a beautiful sight.
I've always enjoyed bus rides alone, especially in the nighttime. The night lights are always so mesmerizing. I always end up taking a short nap because the bus rides home is usually slow. Traffic. That explains a lot.
The bus stops in front of this local café every night. The café always looks so lively from the outside. As I was busy admiring the lively atmosphere of the café, people were getting on the bus. The bus was starting to get crowded.
The passengers were shoving and a guy was pushed to the front of me. Brown hair, obviously too tall for the top seats of the bus; plus he was holding a guitar. I would not be surprised if one of his guitar strings snapped. Luckily, the person seated beside me was kind enough to give up their seat to this giant in front of me. As soon as the guy took his seat, I scoot closer to the window.
He isn't bad or anything. I don't know him but I don't like getting physically close to anyone on the bus unless they are friends. "Hey, sorry about just now,"
"No, it's alright. Don't worry," He didn't have to say anything about it. The ride home feels weird, mainly because some random stranger with a guitar almost fell atop of me and is now seated beside me. He seems so jolly. He has been smiling at his phone since he sat down.
"NEXT STOP! FERN DISTRICT!"
"That's my stop!" I said out aloud. The passengers on the bus all turn their heads to me. I wasn't sure why I shouted either but I can hear whispers going on.
"What's his problem?" "Looks like a student," "Teenagers these days,"
I hurriedly step out of the bus in embarrassment. I let out a sigh of relief as the bus drove off.
Coming home after embarrassing myself, there is no other way to make myself feel better than a hot shower and an air-conditioned room.
"Good evening there!" The security guard greeted me as I tapped pass the gates. "Good Evening to you too," The security guards of my apartment are always nice. They carry out their duty pretty diligently too.
I stopped in front of my mailbox to check if there were any mail from my parents. Empty. There was nothing inside except for advertisement flyers. Restaurant discounts, credit card benefits, and grand openings of...clown cafes?
Who on earth thought clown cafes would be a good idea? Everyone knows clowns are secretly murderers. I folded the flyers and tucked them into the side pocket of my bag as I make my way to the elevator.
"Hold the door!" I shouted as I see the elevator door closing from afar. I made it just in time to squeeze through the doors. "Which floor?"
"4th floor please," I replied.
Elevator music. Nothing else makes standing in the elevator more awkward than elevator music. Literally. As soon the elevator doors opened, I dashed out without looking if it was the 4th floor.
SHOOT! I shouted to myself in my mind. I've already stepped out. There is no way I am stepping back into the elevator. Good thing I live on the 4th floor, it's just three flights of stairs to overcome.
I climbed and finally reach the doorsteps of my home. I took out my keys and immediately unlocked the door. I could not wait to throw my bags to the side and hit the showers.
The shower is running and to think I would be able to relax for a while. My brain ended up thinking about every little pending work I still have on my list and how am I going to complete them all.
I still have my Literature Analysis assignment, the Phonology presentation, and even a meeting with the Management of the Department of English. There's so much to do...
AHHHH! I shouted.
Soap went in my eye the moment I started thinking about my unfinished work. As if the day couldn't get any worse. First, the journey home is ruined by the rain. Next, I'm almost flattened by some hot guitarist and now, the world decides that it's time I go blind.
I came out of the shower barely alive and quickly turned on my laptop so I could get some work done. "Let's see if I can finish prepping those slides for the presentation,"
DING! I received an email from one of my lecturers. I quickly opened the email and realized that it was a poster.
A poetry writing competition.
I bite my lips, my hand slowly hovering the mouse over the Submit Now button.
What if what I write isn't good enough? What if I don't win even Top 3? What if I got so caught up in my assignments that I don't make it on time to complete an entry?!
"AH WHAT TO DO?!" I shouted before crashing my head down onto the table. "There is so much to do," I said to myself with a muffled voice.
YOU ARE READING
Next Stop, Us
Romance"If you have a dream, then you must have the courage to chase it," Owen is a young adult who has always been admiring his dreams from afar, the dream of becoming a successful writer whose work will touch the hearts of others. Owen however is afraid...
