Elixir

II

The day quickly ended and I rushed to the bus. As usual, I was amongst the first students there. It was still relatively quiet, so I took a window seat in the back and settled down. The bus had a bit of a stench. If you inhaled too deeply, you were bound to take a swim in the smell of teenage sweat and grime. The foul odor was nothing compared to the lack of cleanliness, however, I was lucky enough to snatch one of the cleaner seats, as most of them were covered in candy wrappers and wads of chewed up gum.

The ignition was switched on as more students began filing into the humid bus in clumps. The bus driver, a nice old lady in her late fifties, was reprimanding a few of the lower classmen in the front for swearing too loud, doning them disgraces to teenagers everywhere. Little did she know...

I smartly placed my bag in the spot next to mine, marking it as taken territory, I silently prayed that everyone would respect it as such and simply leave me be. A few minutes later, the last few students trickled in and, before I knew it, the doors were shut and the bus started moving. A sigh of relief escaped my lips at my good luck.

I debated whether or not to play some music to calm my jittery nerves. After all, I was headed home. And knowing my mother, I was never sure whether it was a safe day or not. Last night was definitely not, and neither was this morning, it wasn't half as bad, though. Simply a few accidental hits, she'd said. She didn't mean it, she insisted. But I knew I deserved it. And she was right, I had no right to take her money and use it for something so selfish. Makeup to cover up the ugly bruises and cuts or to hide my insecurities and make me feel normal? She could see right through my pathetic façade. The guilt was overwhelming. I've already done enough damage to my family. I deserved it. I deserved it last night and today, those hits weren't accidental, they were intentional. She was trying to get a point across my stupid brain. Don't touch what isn't yours and ask permission, first. A simple lesson I'm still failing to grasp the concept of. I decided against trying to distract myself with lyrics and instead opted for a quick walk to the convenience store after I was dropped off at my stop. I'd pick up a few little gifts for her in hopes of softening the mood. That should definitely keep her from doing too much damage, if any.

A good ten minutes later and I was finally free of the grimy atmosphere. As I began my trek to the grocery store, I fished around my bag for any spare change. My pace slowed as I became more focused on the task at hand. I glanced up and scanned the surrounding area for a spot to sit. Luckily, a few feet away there was a bench. Unstable as it looked, it was better than the ground. Making my way over, I set my bag down and laid out the two dollar bills and coins that I'd found. My brows furrowed as my search for a few more dollars intensified. Two bucks would not be enough to compensate for my stupidity.

I was beginning to get frustrated when all that I could find was a small sum of pennies amounting to about eleven cents. This pushed me to a total of two dollars and seventy one cents. My frustration drove me to search harder until, minutes later, I found myself surrounded with the contents of my bag and a few more cents landing me at exactly three dollars. Still, it wasn't enough, no where near it. I needed to make up for my mistakes. My mother raised me better than this. I would not come home empty handed. She deserved better than a cheap candy bar or a wilted bouquet of flowers. I needed to apologize in a way that would prove that I was truly sorry for what I'd done, and a promise that I would never do it again. I needed to gift her with something that would keep her from touching me for just a little while longer.

I knew I deserved every smack delivered my way, but I needed to heal. My body needed a rest from the pain and my mind screamed for a moment of serenity. I needed something that would shelter me from her wrath, even if it were a few moments of safety, it was better than nothing. Three pathetic dollars, however, would not get me there. She would know, in an instant, that I didn't try to win back her forgiveness in full. I wanted to breathe, but I couldn't, knowing she was angry at me. I wanted to walk home feeling safe and rested and expecting a loving hug at the door, but I knew that I would never deserve it until I sweep up the mess that I'd made. A seemingly impossible task that had my cheeks flooded with tears in mere moments.