It was foggy, she could barely see her way to the buses. A shrill, agonized scream broke out, then it was silent. It was as if time itself stopped. No wind, no crying kids- Nothing. Then time snapped back to life, as if it were a glow stick. The bus was parked, the driver's face was contorted. A look of shock, horror, then realization was plastered to his face all at once. All the kids were quiet, some buzzed with curiosity, while others froze with rigid horror, similar to the driver's reaction. A tiny drip drop could be heard as blood dripped from the front of the bus. Kids anxiously peered from behind their seats as the slow, quiet drips echoed throughout the bus. The driver put his broken face in his hands as a child started to cry. Someone else dialed 911, and monotonously stated the situation to the lady, shielded by a device. The crying grew to a chorus, some louder than others. The little ones looked around, shaking with fright and confusion. It was as if life outside this metal containment had completely disappeared. No one dared get off the bus. They couldn't bear the horrid thought of seeing the stranger/acquaintance/friend/best-friend/sister/cousin mutilated.
