A Pierrot's Muse

Saturday 18th April 2009
Sitting on the right side of the bus towards the middle, I handed my friend a pile of sketches I had done and she leafed through them.

Suddenly, while the bus was moving, a man clothed entirely in black jumped through the doors. He just appeared to be a speeding blur. He rushed up the aisle and back down again. A few people screamed in pain, and fell limply in their seats, blood pouring from their fleshly opened wounds. They'd been slashed with a knife.

Those who were left alive carried on as if nothing had happened, while I sat, desperately wondering to myself if they'd actually noticed what happened. Even the driver continued with the journey with out so much as a second thought; he didn't even stop once.

As the journey continued, panic still present in my mind, the blur of a man jumped in again while the bus was moving and swept up and down the length of the bus. More people slumped in their chairs, blood trickling down their slashed torsos and chests.

My heart rate sped up dramatically.

How could he possibly do that!? I thought to myself, shifting irritably in my seat.

I went on to wondering about if was actually hiding beneath or on top of the bus. I looked foreward, seeing an old lady with grey hair slumped in her chair, utterly lifeless; among the rest of the people who had been killed. My gaze then traveled out of the window. The bus weaved through cars on the busy roads and it was getting dark outside, and I was becoming more frightened with every passing minute.

Soon enough, we had finally arrived in the town centre. I didn't want to wait to get to the bus stop, so when the driver had stopped at a traffic light, I yelled down the bus, "Hey, is it alright if I get off here?"

"Yeah, course you can." Came the cheerful reply, as if he hadn't even realised the killings that had so fleetingly taken place throughout the journey.

I jumped off the bus and onto the pavement, slowly realising I had left my bag on the bus, but the bus had already driven away. I decided that when I got home, I'd find the number for the bus station and ask if my bag had been given in to lost and found.