to be determined [A FORMER WATTPAD FEATURED STORY]

TWENTY - TWO

The bus reeks of something.

I think that maybe it's the clothing of the man sitting next to me. He has a stubbly white beard, and his skin is a shade darker than mine. He's eating what seems to be a Cup of Noodles.

My hands are cuffed into a windbreaker that is far too large and smells like Ki. We pull into the driveway of this large building. I look past the man to my left, through the window.

Everything here is so dark.

Everyone on this bus is quiet; they're all so . . . unhappy.

I think I miss the white walls . . . and Ki with his knowledge of Korean dishes. I think I miss laying in the stiff hospital bed, observing how the doctors run past in their pastel colored scrubs, the smell of rubber gloves and strong disinfectant products lingering in the air above me.

This new place that sits among the darkness is not home.

Take me home.