Calum felt the straps of his of his bag digging into his shoulders. He stopped, dropping it to the dirt covered concrete blow him. It'd been hours since he'd last stopped to drink water and he could see rays of sun beginning to show themselves in the horizon. He slid down against a tree, leaning his back against the bark, and stretched. He could hear his bones crack with the slightest of movement. He inhaled deeply, staring straight. His eyelids grew heavy, and as much as he attempted to avoid it, his eyes brought him darkness. He began to dream, forgetting where he was, but remembering where he wasn't. As if only a few moments had passed, his eyes snapped open. He arose from his spot on the ground, his mind hazy with the memory of his sister's funeral, the reason he'd left the town he'd grown up in, and the reason he'd never return. His dreams would forever be haunted with images of her, the color drained from her face, and her body positioned for people to look at one last time before she was buried and never seen again. He grabbed his bag, slinging it on his shoulders, and turned. He walked as fast as he could, his tired legs trudging underneath him. The sun burned bright in the sky, he squinted hard, searching in the distance for somewhere to stay. He looked up at a sign. He'd crashed in a park, he'd been there before, and it wasn't too far from where he'd come from. Walking under the large arch that stood in front as an entrance, he spotted a line of tired people awaiting entry to a long run down bus. With his head down, he walked over and joined, standing at the back. For a moment he saw his reflection in the glass cover that positioned itself over two benches. He looked filthy, he looked broken, and he looked lost. Calum saw it as a symbol for who he really was. As he stepped onto the bus, he easily slipped by seats filled with people, sitting in the back, away from everyone else, and while to himself he looked like rubbish, it seemed that to others he was invisible. This gave him a steady feeling. He'd rather feel alone and ignored than visible and judged. He leaned his head on the seat beside him, setting his bag down on the cramped floor underneath the seat in front of him. Laying his head down, he heard the sound of thunder erupt outside the bus window, followed by the pitter patter of rain on its roof. He allowed the calming sound to guide him to sleep, his dreams filled with darkness, and his soul filled with loss.
