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Leftovers

The auburn fur cladding the back of a small squirrel shimmered underneath the bright rays of the early morning sun. Two white teeth nipped at the edge of a nut, only to release it when it was rotated between two furry hands. The small rodent lifted it's head and chittered it's teeth together, it's fluffy ears twitched and stood straighter before twisting to the left.

In a split second, the auburn squirrel bounced away from the branch it was sitting on and jumped onto another tree. It jumped from tree to tree with only a fluffy auburn tail flashing between the gaps of the trees. The squirrel jumped into the tree next to an empty rode and grabbed onto a sturdy branch with its small claws- one hand gripping the tree and the other holding onto the ripe nut.

The squirrel leaned forward and peered over the curtain of emerald green leaves to catch a glimpse of the whirlpool of disaster in the middle of the deserted road. A large, grey bus was laying on its side, surrounded by a pool of broken glass from the shattered windows. A single wheel seemed to be still rolling around in an endless circle and the silence hung lowly over the bus, threatening to be shattered and scattered over the fallen bus at the lightest sound. Streaks of black intertwined with droplets of ruby red and danced along the pavement behind the bus until it finally reached the rear of it.

The two front teeth of the squirrel snapped together before it was turning away from the scene. It's small, fuzzy palms fumbled with the crispy brown nut, only for it to lose its grip and allow the nut to fall off the tree branch.

The nut flew through the air with the blanket of the wind swaddled around it until it crashed into the ground and rolled across the pavement. The shell of the nut split open and a large crack embedded itself in it's side as it rolled across the pavement until it stumbled upon a broken shard of glass and stopped rolling.

The anxious silence in the air was cracked just like the nut by barely audible beeps squeaking through the shattered windows of the bus, followed by a low, throaty groan.

Inside the bus, a single pale finger twitched, followed by a few more before falling limp once again. A droplet of blood slid along the edge of the steering wheel until it released its grip on it and landed on the tip of the small pinky finger. The hand stilled, and the forest around the bus seemed to hold its breath as it waited patiently for another sign of life.

A sharp gasp cut through the silence and shattered it into millions of tiny shards that joined the already broken glass windows. A head full of brown locks jerked up and two eyes cracked open to reveal the golden, honey-glazed eyes.

When the consciousness wrapped its arms around Jimin and dug its nails into his exposed skin, the first thing that greeted him, was the lungful of the crispy morning air slithering through his nostrils and filling every inch of his lungs. Jimin's chest rose with his next inhale, and breath seemed to be trapped in his lungs before he puffed it back out and allowed himself to fall back against the edge of the fallen bus.