Chapter 1- Pipes
Walking into the bus station, I could barely feel the ground beneath me. The world around was fuzzy, the cuts and bruises down my arms and legs felt nonexistent, I was numb.
“uh one ticket, please”, I murmured to the cashier
“Where to, miss?”
“Anywhere but here”
As the woman behind the glass slowly took my assorted cash and change, counting it meticulously, trying to figure me out as she went, I started to notice how I must look to the strangers around. My hair and clothes were soaked by the rain, pouring outside, my boots, covered in mud, squishing each time I shifted my weight, and my eye starting to form a dark bruise around itself. As the woman slid the ticket under the slot of the protecting glass that separated us, I turned my head to see an officer walking towards the booth. As he approached, I quickly gathered my belongings off the counter and briskly walked to the bathroom, avoiding the cop that was bound to ask questions. I was safe for the moment in the stall, reading my ticket.
“Bolt Bus 21- Port Authority NY,NY to Greyhound Bus Station, Charleston, WV- departure 1:32am”
13 minutes to go
I opened my backpack and pulled out a somewhat dry college sweatshirt. I peeled my soaked white v-neck off my sore torso and undid the sports bra that was starting to irritate my skin. I slipped the sweatshirt over my freezing body and threw my hair into a bun.
7 minutes
Leaving the bathroom, I caught eye contact with the officer that was obviously scanning the floor looking for me. I flashed an innocent smile at the cop and he turned and walked to the other side of the terminal. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and made a beeline to the vending machine. Feeding the machine a handful of coins, I grabbed the water and granola bar it dispensed.
2 minutes
I hurried outside and found my bus. Ticket in hand, I scrambled up the slippery steps and nodded to the driver. Taking a seat way in the back, I put up my bag so no one could sit next to me and pulled up my hood. I dozed off for a minute just before waking up to hear the engine roar. I awoke to find was joined on the bus by an elderly man accompanied by a woman and a stack of colorfully wrapped boxes, a mother and child toting along a stack of puzzle books, two small suitcases, and a hamster cage, and a woman in a leather jacket with jet black hair and nothing but an ipod and black duffle bag.
We drove for about an hour before I noticed the woman in leather peering over at me. As our eyes met, she stood and walked over, swaying with the sloppy movements of the bus.
She looked something out of a movie. Jet black hair, thick rimmed glasses, battered leather jacket, black jeans, combat boots. There was an air about her that compelled you to want to meet her. She walked with confidence, well, as best as a person could on a bus going 65mph.
Without saying a word, the stranger flipped the back of the seat in front of me, creating facing rows. She moved in, swinging her duffle into the overhead above, and taking a seat adjacent to me, our knees knocking with the dip of a large pothole. The woman pushed back her glasses into her hair, exposing her perfectly manicured eyebrows and winged eyeliner. To my surprise, she reachedover, flipped the hood off my head and took out an earbud, handing it to me, silently suggesting I put it in my ear. I leaned forward accepting the bud, and put it in, instantly recognizing Nirvana playing quietly. We sat there staring at eachother, listening for about a minute before introducing ourselves.
