Escape from the ordinary

The bus

It's raining.
Pat
Pat
Plop
Pitter
Patter
    Listening to the sound of the rain was soothing. I sat in the uncomfortable leather seat of the bus. Yup, it's over. I knew I was different from the start. No need for me to hide it. Everyone else knew too. As I walked down streets mothers would hide their children from me, as if they were scared that they would catch the difference.
    Different means Death
  It's as simple as that. The rain continued to fall. The bus was slowly filling with different. Kids all of age, deemed a burden to society, deemed to unnatural to keep around. 18 years the would live that's the deal. Everyone knows this and yet some still try to fight. No younger are you taken, no older if they can help it. Some try to run. To escape. It never works, they find you. You can't escape F.A.T.E . They won't let you.
      "Angel Anderson. " a grim voice calls.
     " here.." I mumble. They do this every stop to make sure no one tried to run. Frankly it's annoying. One your an the bus there's no point in trying to escape.
      The people slowly filling the bus were not the same, not one was alike. I watch as they fill the bus, their eyes seemed dead, they had given up hope and it reflected in their eyes. What made me different, I know you by your eyes.
     The broken eyes keep coming in to the bus. No one tried to leave. Name call again. And next stop. I watched the eyes, and their all the same. Something caught my attention. A pair of ruby red eyes. They were brilliant,shining and full of life, they were young, 16. After those eyes there was another pair of the same eyes.
    I looked at the eyes, watching them. I couldn't read them. They intrigued me, those eyes. Sill filled with joy and hope, happiness maybe. All I could get was the emotion and I could only pick out a few, not like usual where I can find everything. The eyes continued walking down the hall of the bus. And they sat next to me. The two pairs of ruby red eyes. They stared straight ahead, ignoring my existence. I look at the people the eyes belong to.
     One girl and one boy. Both with caramel brown hair. The girl has shorter hair pulled into small twin tails at the side of her head below her ears, and two red pins holding back loose strands of hair that might fall in front of her eyes. The boy had longer hair pulled into a ponytail on the back of his head, he had the same clips holding hair on the back of his head. They both had extremely pale complexions, and we're very small and skinny, too skinny. They were holding hands and the girl had her head resting on the boys shoulder. He was whispering reassuring words into her ear.
    Just great were on a bus heading towards certain death.

       Happy birthday to me....