The Camp

Chapter 3

The steps onto the bus were slick with dirt and grease meaning that I slipped a little as I boarded, "Oregon is just up there Miss, by the pink frilly girl." The driver explained and I nodded my head curtly before making my way to my designated area. I could pick out the girl he was talking about through his description of her because her dress was so bright and frilly that she stood out among the others. It would have helped me more if the Texan man had waited until I got to my seat to pull off, but he didn't and as the entire bus rocked forward, I lost my balance and ended up in a heap on the floor. Some of the girls began to whisper to each other, seeing me fall would be an indication that I was weak and easy to beat. A little stunned by my trip I got up and gripped the metal bars beside me, taking a long minute to smooth out the wrinkles on my dress and untangle my heavy curls of hair.

It felt strange, not only that being on a bus felt like I was drifting along above ground but also because everyone's eyes were focused on me. I was being viewed as the weakling, as the runt of the litter and that meant that they would try to pick me out of the top few.

The bus hit a lump in the road, and I stumbled, flying forwards but this time I was ready to catch myself and pulled myself back up. "Miss, could you sit down please, folk don't like it when I let you stand." Hollered the bus driver but I was way ahead of him, stumbling down the isle as fast as possible and quickly switching from a bar in one hand to a bar in the other. I could see the pink, frilly dress of my destination when the bus hit another bump and I was sent hurtling sideways into some poor unsuspecting girl. Her bright blue eyes startled me as I found myself looking up into a heavily done up face, she had red cheeks and deep red lips, not to mention a dark purple across her eyes. Her dress which I found to be very soft was made of some sort of silk and had layers of vintage frills to imitate a flapper dress. "Sorry." I mumbled as I got back to my feet and finally made it to the pink girl.

"Is this seat for me?" I asked and the most innocent face I'd ever seen looked back at me, "I presume so." Her voice was sweet and childish and upon closer inspection I realised why. The miniature girl beside me was no older than thirteen, she had large, bright hazel eyes that twinkled in the sunlight and a rounded button nose. Her curled brown hair spiralled down over her shoulders and her lips had a tinge of peach to them from what I could only guess was lip-gloss. Her baby pink dress was slightly to big and hung loosely away from her body; it didn't have sleeves and I caught a glimpse of her smooth underarms, another signal that she was in fact a lot younger than most of the girls here.

Slipping into the seat beside her I tried to tart up a conversation, "Where are you from?" I asked and she looked at me with a puzzled expression, she had been staring out of the window but now I appeared more interesting than what she could see through the murky glass. "Oregon. All four of us are." She gestured behind her and I took my time taking in the girls sat behind us. One had wonderful tanned skin with a deep pink sari wrapped carefully around her thin body, from what I could tell she was very tall with long arms and legs. Her hair was loose but tied up in a bun behind her head and her face had a slim coating of foundation. The other girl, who looked as if she had come from before the war, had bright orange hair and incredibly pale skin, she had a long, pointed nose which held a metal spike and brightly shaded eyes. Her chosen outfit was a pair of faded jeans and a black shirt that was ripped in several places. She was funny looking and stood out as much as the pink, frilly dressed girl beside me. "So, whereabouts in Oregon are you from?" I turned back to look at her, but she'd turned back to the window and this time it was more interesting than me. "Don't know, never left so id didn't need to know." I laughed realising that I didn't know whereabouts I was from either. "You got a name kid?" I asked and her head turned back so fast I'm surprised she didn't get whiplash. "I'm not a kid." She scowled and I held my hands up in surrender. "Ok but can I at least have your name?" She seemed to mull this over for a few seconds before answering. "Emily." I nodded then gestured to myself, "Enola." She chuckled to herself as she returned to her beloved window watching, "That's a funny name."