A Fork In The Road: A Book of Short Stories

The Bus Stop

      It was a Monday. A thin fog had blanketed the Philadelphia area, and everyone seemed to be in a testy mood. But hey- it was Monday, so what can you expect. I was waiting at the bus stop, my breath dancing in the February air. I was the only one at the stop, and I just stared down at my phone, not doing anything important.
       That's when I heard it: a screeching noise echoing from far down the street. I looked up, wondering if the bus had had an accident down the way, for it was about time for it to be here. It wasn't the bus. It wasn't anything. Just a foggy road.
       The screeching noise started getting louder, as if it was getting closer. I looked back and forth across the road. Nothing but fog, and road. As I think back to it, the fog had been growing thicker and thicker as the noise creeped louder, but at the time, the noise was all I noticed. I ended up giving up waiting for the bus. It had been four hours, and it all I could here was ear splitting shrill.
       I had come to the conclusion that the noise was probably just some kid with a speaker playing a prank, and decided to just call in sick to work, and stormed off too my car.
       Soon enough, I was pulled up to my apartment. By then, I could barely see through the fog. I squinted as I made my way inside, just so I could see the door. Once I made it to my room I collapsed onto my gray couch. I lazily groped the remote and switched on the television.
       I switched it on, all that shown was static. I tried to switch off the screen, not in the mood to fidget with my crappy, thrift store TV. But the thing was, the TV didn't shutdown, and a noise started whispering through the speakers. The noise. The noise from the bus stop. I froze, staring at the static. I tried the power button again. Maybe the TV was just glitching out, or it was finally broken for good. The TV stayed on, and the noise became louder, and louder. I ended up sinking onto the floor, clutching my ears. All I could hear was the screeching of a broken train. The same screech from the bus stop. I blacked out, losing consciousness to the noise. It's all I can remember from the next two hours.
       I woke up in my room. My covers snuggly tucked around me. The windows closed. The lights turned off, and assumed everything yesterday was just a dream. I yawned, and got ready for work. As I opened the door out of my apartment, the long hallway wasn't there. It was a bus waiting in a dark street, surrounded by fog. The bus had no windows, and it was completely still, as if it had always been there.
       As the doors squeaked open, all I could see was a pitch black void inside. I don't know why, but something inside me urged my body onto the bus, and the doors shut. Sunderland a misty glow entered the compartment, as though light was shinning in through windows. It showed a cozy row of seats and metal bars to hold onto, both far nicer than any city bus I have been on. Though quite shaken, I shuffled onto one of the seats that would of been a window seat on any average bus. Of course, I didn't have a window. Suddenly, the screeching began as the bus shook into movement. The noise only lasted for a moment, and soon the motors only rumbled. I got a weird feeling in my gut, that I was gone for good.
       Yesterday, I got a text from my mother, saying I hadn't answered any calls from her all for about 6 months, and was worried I was upset at her. She lived only a block down from her, but she said the door to my apartment had been locked everyone she came by. I hummed as I scrolled down the rows of messages. She seemed freaked. I told I was sorry, though lately I haven't seemed to give two damns about anything, and this certainly did fit in with that pattern. I told her I was safe, and she asked where I was. I chuckled to myself as I answered: "meet me at the bus stop, I will explain everything". Truth be told, I wasn't about to do such a thing.