Delusional

Chapter One

I sat on the bus one morning in mid may, watching the same houses pass under the same foggy sky in the same seat. Nothing big ever happened in a town like this.

 
Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Pete. I've had the story of my past trapped in my head forever, and the words you are reading now is those words that have been on replay.

As I continued to look out of that grimy bus window, I began to think what sound the bus would make if it were to tip onto it's side and slide across the grainy pavement. My brain cycled through beautiful sounds I've heard in movies and imagined as I read books. I heard crunching metal and felt the vibration inside of my ears.

Two kids got on. They looked similar, perhaps brothers, but then again didn't every teenage boy this age? The tallest of the pair wore bright white pants. They ironically hung close to his knees, contradicting the black belt he was wearing loosely through the worn belt loops. His shirt was nearly black but it wasn't, it was gray, or perhaps it was just faded. The shirt had a nude picture of Marilyn Monroe topless with a black bar reading 'EXPLICIT' across where her breasts should be. That was the style. My eyes trailed up to his hair. He had the kind of hair middle school girls swooned over; the long cut all brushed to one side. The facet of a hairstyle was a dirty hue of blonde, and as he walked down the aisle I wondered if our eyes would meet in a brief moment of unspoken hatred for difference, but they didn't, so instead I looked to the shorter one, who was dressed much the same except a shirt and pants of a different color with no belt. He played today with common sense I suppose.

Despite their appearance of being friends due to their similar fashion, the shorter of the two sat in front of me instead of with the other. It was then that I noticed his hat. He was wearing a hat with the word 'CALI' stitched across it in thick letters. We didn't even live in California. Another example of the trends. The word on the back of his hat was stitched with thread that formed a galaxy pattern and it wasn't the first time that I had seen the pattern. The pattern is everywhere; shirts, leggings, sleazy tops for girls, bras, and underwear. Trends.

-----

The rest of the day passed in agony. The hours ticked by like the clock wanted to torture me. All bad attitudes and too much confidence. That's what the people I saw daily were made out of. They were bottle babies fed on too much pity. I laughed at that thought getting onto the bus that afternoon, and many people shot me weird glances, probably because nothing was funny.

After sitting down it was only seconds before something, or someone I should say, collided with me. I looked over and saw someone lying in the aisle looking the opposite of gracious. 

I extended my hand to help him up with a blank expression as laughing erupted around me, and someone waiting to walk down the aisle, behind the boy who had ran into me, cursed him under his breath. We held a heavy distrusting gaze until he finally accepted my hand. I helped him to his feet and told him my name, hoping that would make things a little less awkward and a little more friendly, but he gave me the same deer in headlights stare and put headphones in. Nice.

I turned to the window and gave up on talking to him. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath even though I knew he couldn't hear me. I closed my eyes pressing my temple against the window, warm from the sun that rarely shone here, and recreated my fantasy of a skidding yellow bus across the now hot pavement. I envisioned skin searing as kids flew out of the windows and collided with the road. I saw skin flying off of bodies in a wonderful gruesome moment of slow clarity. I focused on the humming in my ears and traced its tingling down my spine as the bus pulled out of the parking lot to begin the route, and I stayed in that frozen world inside my mind until the weight beside me lifted.

 
I opened my eyes watching the boy walk off of the bus. His steps were unsteady but calculated carefully. I understood what he was thinking; don't mess up, look normal, blend. I turned my gaze back to the dirty window warily and watched him disappear into his house.

-----

I couldn't sleep that night. I dreamt of that boy's house. Flashes of the interior, something in the woods. I couldn't grasp any single image or thought, and it left me with a strange numb exhaustion the next morning. 

-----

When I got onto the bus I sat alone towards the middle. Everyone sits in the front or back. At least this way I'll have a shot at getting to spend thirty minutes alone. I thought back to family reunions and nearly smiled. Everyone was always telling me how I was too much of a loner. I've heard it all before. "You're making yourself depressed. You dress too darkly. You never look happy. Are you sleeping? Have you made any friends? If you went out more you'd feel better. If you socialized you'd be normal." However, I didn't think there was anything wrong with me. What's so bad about wanting alone time? Adults say they wish they had it all the time. Maybe they spent too much time 'socializing' as a teenager.

I turned to stare out the window and noticed how foggy it was. I thought back to every science class I've ever taken, how I thought it was so cool that clouds could be on the ground back when I was like 7. Now I wish this wasn't a cloud but poison. Oh, how grand it would be if everyone started to choke. Hands on their throats or over their mouths trying to stop the burning in their lungs. Then everything would be silent and it would be just that hazy grey blanket.

-----

The school day passed as normal, avoiding people in a futile attempt to keep my mental stability in tact. I was going to walk home until I remembered the boy from yesterday. For some reason I wanted to see him again. I took the bus home instead of walking, but, to my dissapointment, he didn't show up. I sighed deeply to myself sinking down into the seat as the loud chatter began as the bus filled. I wished I would have walked instead.

I stared out the window and let my mind wander. However, about 15 minutes into the ride someone tapped my shoulder. I looked over and saw him sitting beside me. "Hey.....I just wanted to apologize...I wasn't trying to be rude yesterday just....I'm shy.." He mumbled rather awkwardly in a quiet tone. I watched his eyes as his mouth moved. They continuously moved side to side before settling on the ground dully as he finished his rambling. He was slouched in the seat with a submissive posture. I was amazed. My eyes flicked to every movement he made like clock work. I had always been fascinated with Sociology. The study of human behavior. There are so many things happening around you right now that you aren't noticing. 

"It's fine. I'm Pete." I finally answered and shrugged.

He simply nodded in return and stared ahead of him. "Patrick." A weight seemed to lift off of him. His posture softened and straightened slightly but he remained rigid and on edge.

While he stared at the back of the seat in front of us my eyes roamed over him more loosely. He had light brown hair, nearly blonde, and feminine pale face with cheekbones sharp enough to cut. I stared in admiration at the part of his eyes that I could see. They reminded me of The Starry Night. The edges of his iris was a dark yellow and grew paler closer to his pupil before fading into a deep blue and settling on a combination of the two around his pupil. I think God should be proud of this one.

I looked back out the window, running out of things I could say and the courage to say them. When I did look over to say something, he wasn't on.