Volitare

Tumble

The morning sky still held the residue of night, bleak partial darkness with streaks of light and color was what you would expect at dawn. It’s 5 AM on a Monday, so imagine everyone’s mood and agility. My eyes felt heavy again, and the book in my hand tilted downwards. I bookmarked the page I was on, and decided to surrender to sleep and doze off. I was barely a few minutes in joyful unconsciousness, when the driver hit the brakes and jolted me awake, again. “This one is starting to piss me off.” I said through clenched teeth.
“Same here.” Mumbled my companion on this ride and every other bus ride to our job in the city; Alex. He has memorized the drivers-due to our extensive use of public transportation-one by one; this one isn’t his favorite. Working in the city didn’t hold such appeal once you actually start going back and forth between home and work. You go to work tired and you come back home even more tired. You do some of the paperwork on the way, but most of your handwriting is ragged and incoherent due to the splendid roads on which we commute on. You double efforts to equate lagged efforts of your fellow colleagues living near work. People feel entitled to suggest living in the city, as if it is the grandest idea of this century, well news flash! It sucks. In addition to the expenses of opening a home for only just one person, also I already tried. The hinges of the curtains on the bus tap the window violently extenuating the turbulence by which our driver is encouraging, “if he could slow down just a bit that would be great” I remarked sarcastically, seriously I didn’t want to die just because some prick wanted to get to the station earlier than expected.
“Well I am guessing you didn’t have your coffee at home.” Commented Alex. He was right, though the coffee wasn’t the only reason my mood was off; something about today felt off. Felt really off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling from the moment I woke up this morning.
“I don’t know Alex, don’t you feel weird? Like today feels weird?” I questioned.
He shrugged, “not really, just another day.” The bus shifted as he said that, and most of the passengers started expressing their disapproval of the driver’s driving, protesting and insisting he slow down. “This guy is seriously in a hurry” I declared. My phone vibrated in my pocket, seeing the caller ID didn’t encourage me to answer.
“Still not talking huh?” Alex interjected.
“No. He can forget it.” I said coldly and stared at the passing scene. It’s a passing conversation to him but to me it was my life. He keeps asking me whether Omar and I were speaking and every time I would dismiss the issue. We commute together he shouldn’t confuse that with meddling in my personal life. The same scene repeated itself, so did the same conversation. I knew what he was going to say next, I just did.
“Don’t you think you’re throwing things a bit out of proportion?” he meddled. Again.
“Alex not this again.” I said with an exasperated mono-tone.
“Yes this again. The poor guy has been calling you for days now. Believe me I know that. He even showed up at work, and you house.” He said sympathetically.
“That renders him stalking material therefor I should stay away.” I pointed out.
On our way to the city, there is this highway that overlooks the coast line, the splendid sea spread majestically as far as the eye can see. At that moment, we were about to trail across. As Alex was about to talk, this tightening in my chest started. This ache. What did I eat the night before? There are moments in your life, where your whole body anticipates an impact. An incidence. A trigger. That one moment. As my chest got tighter, this claustrophobic anxiety followed. I needed air. I needed to breathe.
“I didn’t mean that. I meant…” he was halted. One moment. That moment.
The sound of metal, screeching against the pavement. People screaming, praying, pleading. The hinges on the curtains beating more violently against the glass of the window. Alex panicking and shieling me with his arm, as if it was a seat belt. What for Alex? Tumbling, rolling. All that metal. All those people. Alex kept saying it was going to be alright. No it isn’t Alex. His eyes mirrored what he tried to hide; panic and fear. Mostly fear. I am afraid too Alex, nobody asked you to play tough guy. The glass, the hinges, hit and showered everyone, that made the screaming louder and louder. I can’t blame them. At that moment, I opened my heart and prayed. May the loss of myself fade away gently through time, may they remember me only in laughter. May my past sins be overlooked by the good I have done in my life. My tears streaming down my cheek as my body toppled and tangled with many others, Alex securely holding my hand and wouldn’t let go. Let go Alex. Let go.
As we hit the water, so did I.