Misconseptions

Chapter 3

9:00 That Night 

Jonas was tired, Jonas was thirsty, Jonas was hurt, Jonas was hungry, but most of all, Jonas was scared. Though it is true that all of his parents were killed, foster and not, he had never seen the bodies besides at the funerals. There was never blood. There was never the crushing realization of how truly fleeting life truly was. Jonas had lived a hard death filled life but had never been exposed to death in the raw.

Jonas had gotten on a bus only a few miles from the house. He had not thought about where he would go. He just went.  A few hours passed in which Jonas slipped ever further into the void of realization that life wasn't permanent and that, someday, he too would die. The old buss filled and emptied with passengers for hours until Jonas finally fell to sleep. 

When Jonas finally awoke, the old buss driver was shaking his shoulder. He was a short and squat old man between the ages of 60 and 70. He had a short grey beard and faded white scar where on most men of his age, a mustache would have grown.  The man had been shaking Jonas's shoulder trying to awaken him. Finally, when Jonas stirred he ceased his shaking.

"What you doin' here child", He said (Not in a mean way) ,"Are you OK? Did you lose your mama?"

Jonas groaned and assured him that he wasn't with his mom. Of coarse this only stirred up more questions. While Jonas stretched, the old man went about questioning him to a surprising extent. Jonas looked at the old man and apologized silently before bursting past him, running at top speed out of the bus and away. Jonas looked back at the feeble old man desperately trying to catch up while yelling into a phone of sorts. He turned and started moving away at a brisk jog away from the bus station.

Jonas grew weary. He was approximately two miles away from the station and was outside of the town hall of this particular city. It said on a sign on the outside of the building that it was called Doringham. He looked at a giant clock tower outside the building. It was 12:38. He tried the doors to the building. They were locked. The night was cold. Very cold. Jonas gave in and  wrapped his coat tightly around him as  he sat down on a bench outside. He used his backpack as a pillow and tried to sleep. Lucky he was so tired that he couldn't think about what happened....No....  now there was sleep. He lay for only a minute before it over took him. There were no dreams. There was just blackness. "Good", was Jonas's last thought.