Bus to Baltimore | Teen Ink

Bus to Baltimore

January 14, 2016
By Coldwarrior BRONZE, Fitchburg, Wisconsin
Coldwarrior BRONZE, Fitchburg, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Wildly, I pull into the overnight parking lot. I get out of my truck and step down on to the unforgiving asphalt. I spy the ticket booth and make my way toward it, moving as fast as I can while still avoiding the appearance that I’m in a hurry. I approach the booth, inside sits a bored teenager on her phone, earbuds in her ears. I lightly tap the window with my knuckle. She looks up with her eyes speaking plainly of annoyance. Her voice leaves the speaker in a strained polite tone, “ How can i help you?”
I respond after turning my head to check for people around, “ one ticket please.”
“Ok, you gotta tell me where , though, “ She says, her irritation clear.
“Yeah, uh sorry…” I stare uncomprehendingly at the schedule my mind too full to make sense of the letters and numbers dotted across the screen, “I’ll just take the first ticket out of here,”
She looks at me like I’m a lunatic, then lets out a sigh of exasperation and prints out the ticket. “This bus leaves in two minutes and goes to Baltimore, it’s sixteen dollars.”
I hand her a twenty and collect my change, the I head over to the staging area to find my bus and have to sprint to get through the thin doorway before the surly driver closes it. Breathing hard, I huff out, “Sorry.” With a disapproving glare and an intelligible grunt he punches my ticket. I take my stub and squint into the dark interior of the bus, the passengers engrossed in their phones or their books, lit by the dull yellow glow of clip on lights. I make my way to the back, lithely stepping around the occasional foot or bag. To my displeasure the last row was taken up by a woman with her toddler on one side and a shrivelled old man keeled over across both seats on the other side, his energy sapped by the mere effort of living. I sit down in the next row forward, my legs give out halfway into my seat, and I fall heavily into the one adjacent to the window. I take a deep breath in an attempt to gather my wits. Leaning against the window I cool my cheek on the brisk glass. The brief respite I allow myself is brutally interrupted by a flash of red and subsequent flash of blue in the parking lot. I spring up in my seat, back rim-rod straight. I am unable to look away as men in blue uniforms  walk up to the ticket booth, and knock on the window just as I had minutes before. They talk for a few seconds and the officer looks towards the staging area and points my bus’s way in a questioning manner. He receives affirmation and 3 officers walk purposefully my way. I start to sweat, my dread growing with each step they take towards me.
Suddenly the bus shudders to life and starts to pull away. The policemen notice this and take off into a full sprint. But it's too late, they will be unable to catch up. The bus exits the parking lot and merges into traffic heading for the interstate. I sit back into my chair, and let my anxiety out. My mind slips back to earlier tonight. The yelling, the pushing, the gun. I may be escaping the police, but I can not escape that. Not right now, and as I sit here I’m sure, not ever.



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