(UPDATES EVERY SUNDAY)
You don't believe in God, Lucas?
That's okay. He believes in you.
And he's coming for you...
There's some seriously weird shit happening to Lucas. First, a runaway bus nearly puts him ten feet under, and no one can explain exa...
The bus was full. It blew past the bus stop, drowning out the music in my headphones briefly, and I huffed in disgust, watching it leave me behind. There was an ad on the back, big yellow words that spelled out:
"There is no God – Enjoy Yourself."
Who knows what it was for... Liquor? Escort services? The bus was gone before I could read the logo underneath, but it made me smile. Mostly because I agreed with it, but I wasn't going to lie, the thought of mom's reaction to an ad like that was amusing. She'd probably try to flag down the bus and give the driver a piece of her mind.
I smiled and leaned back, flicking through my song list for a new one. There was a lot of bass in this one, and it was starting to wear down my eardrums, awe hell, it was almost over...I glanced up briefly as a girl in a red walked past me and sat down, the old bench planks shifting slightly beneath me.
The song switched over, one of my favorites, less singing and more instrumentals. I closed my eyes, letting the music lull me, the sun bouncing off the snow sending patterns of darkness and light across my eyelids.
A second later it hit me, goosebumps on my arms, like someone was watching me. I opened my eyes, turning to look at the girl beside me, ready to give her my lady-killer smile. Maybe she liked what she saw...
The bench was empty.
A low rumble. Another bus.
I glanced up and felt my chest go tight. The approaching bus looked wrong. It was coming in at an odd angle, and way too fast. It took a split second to process this, and by the time I jumped up, sending my iPod skittering across the cement, it was too late.
Later I would swear I saw the face of the bus driver in the split second before he plowed into the bus stop. His face was chubby, pale and sweaty, his mouth hung slack. His eyes were vacant, staring straight ahead.
Mom said I must have dreamed it.
The sound of impact was staggering. Crunching, shrieking. Metal screaming as it twisted and crushed inwards, glass shattering and grinding into the road. A thousand pounds punched me square in the chest and my body was thrown violently upwards.
At least, I assume that's how it was. I can't remember a damn thing.
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The aftermath.
Thanks for reading guys, updates will be every Sunday.
