Friday 13th. The last bus home.

There were rarely more than six people on the 11 pm bus from town to the small village in which I lived. I often wondered why it still ran, but I was happy it did because the cost of a taxi would have prevented me from enjoying my Friday night in town with my friends. Yes I had a car, but I liked a drink on a Friday night and I was too fond of living to drive home drunk.

The drivers got to know those of us who traveled on the late night bus, which was comforting, as we were prone to falling asleep. If this happened the friendly driver would wake us up when we reached our stop.

On Friday May 13th I tripped over my skirt as I stepped onto the last bus home, almost falling on my knees. I saved myself at the last-minute and looked up at the driver, laughing. I was expecting to see Gerry’s face smiling back at me, always ready to crack a joke. Gerry was usually the late night driver on a Friday. Instead looking back at me was a stern, pale skinny face of a man who looked like Adolf Hitler. He wasn’t laughing.

“Fare please.Hurry along now.” he said.

I looked behind me, wondering why I had to hurry. “Come along we haven’t got all night.” he added.

I was the only person getting on the bus, so what was the hurry? I put my money on the little black counter and waited for my change. Adolf gave me a ticket, but no change. I wasn’t going to argue with him. Instead of sitting at the front of the bus as I usually did, I went right to the back. I didn’t want to pass the time by chatting to this driver and I am pretty sure the feeling was mutual. 

I looked at my watch, it was almost eleven. Was I going to be the only passenger? I really didn’t want to be on the bus alone with this man. Something about him was disturbing. I thought about getting off, but how would I get home? I had no money for a taxi.

The doors of the bus closed and we pulled away so fast that my head hit the back window.

As we waited for the lights to turn to green, allowing us to pull onto the main road Gerry’s face appeared. He was driving another bus, which was pulling up beside us. I looked at the handful of passengers and saw some familiar faces. I banged on the window scared, knowing something was wrong, but they were there for a moment and then they were gone as Adolf accelerated into the night.

I had a feeling I was on a bus ride to hell!

I am amusing myself by blogging short stories as I work with my editor to finish my novel ‘Dead of July’.

(Preview) Dead of July

I also have two short stories available for a little while longer on Amazon. They are my first published works, and I have recieved some great reviews. These stories are very special to me, and early next year, I am going to have my new editor review them, after which I will re-launch them in a book of short stories. I have a lot of work ahead of me.

Girl on the Beach (UK)

Girl on the Beach (US)

Guy at the Bar Amazon

Guy at the Bar Amazon UK

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