The Bus Stop

11: Thoughts

Unlike the previous months, September passed quickly. It travelled past in a rush of swim practices, soccer games and unwanted fights with my parents. Days turned into weeks and they soon felt like moments and in a blink of an eye, October was almost over, too.

   I stared out at the vast area that always seemed so endless to me at the this time of night, as if nothing and nobody could ever stop going. A drift of the Fall air travelled past the apples of my cheek's and rather then resenting the cold, I found myself welcoming it as a small smile played upon my lips. This was probably one of my favorite places in the entire world. Well, when it was dark, at least. It was just barely past eleven at night and after having to deal with the excruciatingly stressful day of school and swim practise, I found myself needing a break. I needed to be here, perched up on the edge of my window sill as I looked east to view the dim lights that belonged to the faraway city. Between the elongated darkness and solitude that always accompanied me here, I finally felt okay again.

When I was sitting here, overlooking a glimpse of this small town as it slept, I felt free. I felt like I wasn't just a nobody in the grand scheme of somebodies. It was almost like - when the world really came down to it - I meant nothing to everybody and anybody. Isn't that what we're taught from a young age? That nobody really cares when it comes to being compared with themselves? People, (especially the ones living in this small town of Pine Cove), are too conceited to see the goods in others. Residents of this town - of any town - seek individuality but are unsuccessful as the act of perfection is too blinding for themselves to see a world where flaws are praised, and not scolded.

And here I was, wondering where I really fitted in when it came back to square one.

"Hey," a voice called, who I soon placed as Josh's, "what are you doing out of bed so late?"

I let a faint smile creep across at his question, finding the humor in the fact that he was acting so much like a parent. Josh knew very well that I was capable of independence, he just liked to offer his services out of the goodness of his heart. And even though isolation crept upon me easily, I was grateful for his constant loyalty and kindness.

"Couldn't sleep," I admitted. I wasn't lying, either, I really couldn't manage to fall asleep. Except, what surprised me the most was the fact that it wasn't to do with Max's screams that had suppressed an hour ago, it was something much deeper.

Josh took a seat on the ledge beside me, taking a brief glance down before sucking in a sharp inhale of air. Heights had never been his preference like they were mine, he was more the type of person who liked his two feet constantly routed on solid ground.

"You know," he started, letting his gaze tear up from the ground below to rest on my me, "I happen to be a good listener."

I swallowed, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I listened to the faint sound of the midnight traffic. Not many cars drove by at this late time of night, but there was always at least a few and I often wondered if those people were leaving, yet to never return. I had pondered on the thought of running away on multiple occasions, to leave this small town and find something where I could be alone and away from what really seemed to matter. Except each time I thought about it, both Josh and Max were the two people who had routed me to stay.

I sighed and turned to face my younger brother. "You're going to think I'm mental."

He laughed at that, not the reaction I had expected but nonetheless he carried on.

"Clara, you could tell me you saw a freaking Elf in our backyard and I still wouldn't think you were mental." He looked back out to where I had been looking earlier, the city lights causing specks of yellow and orange to reflect against his blue eyes. As an afterthought, he added, "and even if I did believe you had beyond lost it, it's not like I say it to your face."