The Bus Ride
by Kaworu Mochizuki (Pen Name)
The muttering of the engine rumbling in its compartment as the bus slowed down or sped up was never anything desirable, but it killed the ever perpetual silence. The bland colourless interior was only complimented by the seats that had the colourful zig zags of an old science book and strange lighting. I sat in this somber scene with dim purple and red flickering fixtures for an unknown amount of time. It felt like an eternity. As if the ride would never end. The bus itself was swallowed by the darkness outside, with the occasional streetlight light shining in through the dirty smoked windows. I sat there thinking in this void-less ride, wondering why I was there. I stared at the empty seats in front of me imagining someone was there to kill the boredom. The bus itself was empty and the front was blackened as if a black-hole was eating the light prohibiting me from seeing the driver. Being unable to see the driver gave me chills as I realized that I couldn’t even remember entering the bus. Was it Monday? Was I on my way to school? As I kept questioning myself. I pulled the string to ring the bell to be let off; but the speaker chime only let out a low dim static sound, like a toy with low batteries. It was barely audible. I pulled it again somewhat out of desperation as I got up to walk to the front to ask the driver to stop. This is when I heard a sudden voice from the back of the bus.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s not important. Please... sit down, Jacob. You know you shouldn’t be walking on a moving vehicle”. I quickly turned around to the sudden voice all the way in the back of the bus to see a figure strikingly similar to me. A sort of more ideal version of how I wish I looked and dressed. But something was off. His skin was pale, almost as pale as a dead body. An unpleasant sight. There were other differences. He was more handsome. Face slim compared to my chubby cheeks. He had purple emerald coloured eyes, compared to my generic brown set. His clothing consisted of a black jacket of unfamiliar material and a yellow shirt with a black checkered pattern in the middle. His pants were black and tattered tastefully as well. His hair was a bit shorter than mine, barely reaching his ears and silky in nature. He sat there properly with his legs crossed in a feminie fashion with a calm expression. This similar yet completely different looking person to me was unnerving. It felt like knew him and at the same time I didn’t.
Original Photograph by Christian Benitez
“Please sit down, I’d like to talk”. I hesitantly walked to the back of the bus. The light above him was a different shade of purple compared to the rest of the bus, brighter too. It made his eyes shine with power and mystery and made the zigzags glow like lasers. It had the same tone as a black light. The difference in lighting and colours made the scene a mess when combined with the purple and red of the rest of the bus. I made sure not to sit too close to him out of caution, sitting at least two seats away onto the side. I shyly asked who he was and he took a second to answer. As if he was surprised by my question and as he slowly turned his in a mannequin like manner, he simply said “I can be whoever you want me to be, if you can’t realize who I am”. The bus began to slow but not halt as he said that. Then he suddenly asked, “Do you know the meanings of red and purple?” and continued before I even had a second to comprehend what he said. “Red is paradoxical. Symbolizing both love and hatred. Cupid and the Devil. It’s an intense colour no matter the shadings representing desire and confidence. While purple symbolizes mystery and death, both of which is always feared.” Asking why he would tell me something so random and out of the blue he sarcastically giggled like a little kid and asked “Well, aren't you curious about the strange lighting? I’ve never seen such a bus with peculiar lighting” It was at this point I realized his voice was also very similar to mine. But his was more smoothed and forcefully high pitched. More pronounced and proper too.
“Isn’t funny how something seemingly meaningless can mean more than what meets your initial thoughts?” He continued in the same childlike tone.
I nodded in agreement just to end that conversational topic and finally asked in a shallow voice “what do you want?”
“Like I said before. To talk.” giving of a mischievous smile while talking. “Whatever comes to mind I suppose. Nothing like making a new friend” as his smile turned more sinister.
I sat there in silence unsure how to continue in such a strange situation. I was too stunned to say anything, between the figure, the odd bus, and not knowing where I was heading. I looked around as to avoid eye contact with his strong dagger like glare that was pricing me. I couldn’t even tell if he had blink yet. I looked to the front again, which made the figure let out a sigh of boredom and disappointment. This is when I notice the sign that tells the date, time and street was just a mess of pixels. I can barely make out a few letters and numbers, but nothing could be made clear of them. While I stared at the sign I asked, “What's your name?” I looked back waiting for a response and as a streetlight shone past his face he said
“Nothing”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing” he said
“You have to have a name.” I said out of confusion.
“I.... have many names. But you are nothing and nothing is important. So I am nothing. ” in a more serious and depressing tone. But not real depressing tone. It was the kind of sad tone you’d make when you bully someone for being sad.
“Then what is important to you then?” I asked. It felt like we were going nowhere both figuratively in the conversation and physically on the bus. He paused for a second staring at me like I should already know and said “You”. I was taken aback by such a response. I never was anyone you’d find particularly interesting. I was always ignored. Asking what he’d want with me he said again, “To talk”. We had come full circle and I was starting to get more annoyed and mad than I was timid and scared.
“Listen if you’re not gonna continue this damn conversation or actually tell me what you want then I’m getting off” I got up rang the bell again, yanking on it as hard as I could for some reason thinking that’d make the bell ring louder. But instead I heard the sound of a dog this time. Shooked, I looked up at the speaker and ranged it again, as the sound became more distorted and painful to hear. Nothing began to laugh as I looked back confused and scared.
“What’s so funny?! Let me off!” I shouted.
“Well aren’t you so excited and loud all of a sudden.” as he continued to giggle. He sounded happy “It’s you. You’re what’s funny. You’re starting to realize. That’s a very familiar sound for a lot of people but for you it’s something much more isn’t it?” and as he said that the bus began to speed up
I had stopped ringing the bell to make it stop but it got louder and louder until I started to tear up.
“Hoo boy, man what you did to that poor creature was unbelievable. It was pretty funny seeing such a timid person like you conceive of such a hideous act to enact upon such an innocent thing. I thought you’d relate to it or at least had some empathy for it.” Nothing’s tone and accent had changed from a proper more pronounced sound, to a more excited, sort of southern accent. Doing so in a mocking, but still childlike and happy sounding way. “You enjoyed it though didn’t you? You may be crying here but you enjoyed it. Hurting such a small thing made you feel like you actually had power over something in your life for the first time. Unlike right now. Again you’re helpless aren’t cha?” He said in a snickering, foolish voice. “But you regretted it. You always regret something, you never can do anything right in your eyes. It can be the smallest thing in the world and you regret it. You’re so self loathing.” I Screamed again this time louder.
“What do you want?!”
Original Photography by Damariz Morale Rios
“ I want you to feel empathy, scared, sad. Anything. Anything that’ll make you suffer. Do you think that dog suffered? Was it aware of it’s impending death? Do you think animals feel fear like humans do; that they’re aware of their existence and the idea of an afterlife? You want death, but you’re afraid to die. So why did you bring such a thing on a small weak animal? Did you think it wanted to die?” He kept asking thing after thing each question louder and more aggressive than the last when suddenly I had realized the sounds had stopped. My hands were covered in blood as a dog, only a skinny little puppy lay spread out on the ground. It’s rib cage crushed inwards with marks that vaguely fit the size of small hands. The bus had become fully engulfed by the black light, but the blood did not glow. It was still dark, hands drenched in hatred and misery. The same feelings I have everyday was the same feelings this dog had for me as it killed it. Or was it? I’m not sure of anything right now. I looked at the dog as it twitched and lifted its head up. This sent me falling backwards out of fear The disturbing sight twitched, cowarded and cackled.
“You really had to kill me, didn't you? Couldn’t kill yourself but was brave enough to hurt poor old me.” Blood poured out its mouth as it talked in a sarcastic language. “I’m sorry! The urge just came over me” a miserably said. I was hoping if I sounded sad enough that it would do something.
“Your pity will get you nowhere in life, let alone forgiveness, put up the act and drop the curtains, because I’m cutting your play short. When will you ever learn to actually stand-up and make something of yourself. You can put on this innocent boy charade for so long, but not actually do anything with yourself.”