What happens next? (A love story in the afterlife)

Chapter 1 |What happens next?|

What happens after

I closed my eyes as the bus trundled onwards out of the city and into the countryside. Even knowing that this was my last day on earth would not bring me to marvel at the world that was passing the steamed up windows. It is not true what they say you know, about the last few hours of existance being amazing and wonderful and a time when you discover a hidden beauty in the worls. It is all lies. Here I am sat on the back row of the 144 bus heading towards my terminal breath. I feel no different. The problems that have led me to this desion have not gone away, and I know they won't, not until I make that final leap of faith.

The [passage of time is a strange thing, here I am a 17 year old boy who has not had that much time in the greater scheme of things. I mean many people these days live on well into their 80s and I have not so much as lived one quarter of thier life span, and yet my 17 years have felt like an eternity. This bus ride however significant it maybe, is passing quickly and no sooner had we entered the countryside it seemed we were exchanging it for the urban sprawl of England's second city. As the buildings got taller my heartbeat quickened as if sensing its end.

The bus slowed when caught in the congestion that is inevitable in any large city and Birmingham was no exception. I gazed out of the window watching the people passing by, living out their day to day lives and felt very seperate from them as if they were living is a parallel world. They kept their heads down as they walked swifty down grey monotonous pavements with their costa coffee in one hand and their laptop bags in the other. They made eye contact with no one, it was as though they were afraid of any human interaction. They all lived such lonely lives and they let no man into their own personal bubble. I pitied them and smiled at the thought that I was never going to be one of them. I though now, a lot of things, would never be a wage slave.

Once in the centre of town the bus reached my final destination. I hoped off the bus smiled and thanked the bus driver. He seemed somewhat suprised that here in this nameless nation where you do not know your neighbours names and we live in constant fear of the teenage male that one of them would stop to say thank you. He however had done me a favour, he had bought we where I had wanted to be, no questions asked.Perfect. I found myslef in the dark and dingy bus station. There was no way you could have tod it apart from anyother bus station in the contry as I am sure they are all equally as drab. There was the incessant hum of diesel engines and the fumes wafted to my nose. I flicked my hood over my head and became invisable. I was just another teenage boy in a city of thousands.

I made my way up the escalators intp the main shopping area where people bussled by each other, banging their legs against their bags of shopping. Children screamed in pushchairs for sweets and doughnuts as mothers dragged them round Marks and Spencer for another shapless tracksuit that sick washed out of easily. Giggling girls marched through the crowds with bags from Primark mixed in with the one disigner item that they had been able to afford. Again I got the feeling that their was a glass wall between me and the rest of the world, they could see me and I could see them but we could never acctually touch. Like when fireworks explode and they appear to rain down on you but they never land.

I moved amoung these people and looked at no one, I was afraid that they would be able to look at me and just know, in a 6th sense kind of way, what I was about to do. Life's shit then we die. I walked out of the Bullring and into the open air where a light breeze tickled my face.

Once in front of the building that contained the Waterstone's store looking up I felt the first twinge of doubt of what I was going to do sine=ce I had made my choice. I shrugged in off, everyone doubts every choice from choosing a new shirt to quitting their job. It is a natrual built in defence to make sure that you never do anything stupid, if you can get over that second of doubt then it is the right choice, if not it is the wrong one. Of course this is all relevent to the person, I mean someone getting over the second of doubt is consider right or good, but for that person in that moment it was the right thing to do. 4

Inside there was a quite reading hush, as people moved about the store reading blurbs and flicking through for a page to try. They always furnish these places in the same way; thick red carpets, dark wooden shelves and a slighty dim yellow light. Of course in here the atmosphere was faked but the feel was the same. I was drawing attention to myslef stood there staring up so I made my way to the stairs and climbed up the first 4 floors. Now for the difficult bit. I spotted the staff stairs up and possitioned myself at a bookshelf next to them and feined reading, "How to paint the perfect picture".

I had already arroused suspition being of a certain age and alone in a book shop and so it came as no surprise to me that I was being watched by the staff. I ducked behind the pages of the book and forced my eyes to sweep back and forth across the page as though I was reading while keeping my ears open for the sound of any apporch. It was a good job I had chosen a thick, large book because no one questioned the length of time i was spending sampling it. I glanced up again and saw that the staff had returned once more to sticking 2-4-1 stickers onto books and was not going to bother me.

I dropped the book and ran up the stairs. IN my head I pictured the staff turning, struggling to get up \and then pelting it up after me. I, however did not look behind me, as this would slow me down. I was on about floor eight now and the stairs stopped, I had hoped that the stairs to the roof would be right ahead from the main stairwell. So instead i pounded into the storerooms that made up this floor.

"Oi, what the hell do you think your playing at?"

Thankfully he had paused at the stairwell to shout at me and so I gained another few feet. It would mean nothing however if I had not get onto the roof.Suddenly the footfall was closer than before and I could hear his pantig behind me.

"Get back here!"

I saw a door with a sign on it reading 'to the roof' and made for it.

"There is no way down from there boy!"

"Oh, yes there is" I called back to him, and ran up the stairs. They were obviously only used by maintaince staff and so many carboard boxes had been left of the side containing books that obviously had not sold because they looked yellowed and had coveres that might have been the thing when my dad was learning to read.

I felt a hand grab at my back and I insictifly kicked back and caught the man on the sholder. He slowed but was still right behind me. With my left hand I swept across and down like I was preforming a one handed breathstroke and bought boxes of books raining down upon him. I heard the sound of the inpact and the slow gasp that escaped him when the books caught him in his stomac.

I turned and carried on running, out into the open air where is had started to spit. The wind pushed the hood from my head. I looked to the sky and laughted. Took the last few steps and screamed;

"Good bye creulworld!"

I mean when else would I have got the chance?

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