The Girl on The Bus

She was waiting in the middle of the pavement for the bus to come along.

Not too close to the street, not too close to the bus stop.

Her heart beating fast. Why?
She put her right hand close to her chest, her eyes focused on that turn, where the bus was supposed to appear in three minutes, as the digital screen reminded everyone.

She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. And then she let the warm go out.

Breath in, breath out.

That’s what her mother always says. There was no need of being nervous. But her heart seemed to disagree with her.

Breath in, breath out.

Again, trying to calm down  the sound of drums coming from inside her. She felt like it could be heard by anyone. She looked around. No, stop being ridiculous.  Nobody was looking at her, therefore her heart could not be that loud. Still, she could hear it perfectly pumping blood through her system.

The bus finally came into sight. She slightly smiled. The idea of starting the journey gave her false relief. It would have not be a long journey, after all. Twenty minutes tops, and she was going to be there.

Oyster in her hand, she then went up the stairs. She never sat on the lower floor. Weird people sat on the lower floor, while the top was always empty.

As soon as she reached her favourite spot, she moved her bag across and took some paper out.

Her eyes would move fast from one word to another, line after line. Her lips moving in sync with what her mind was reading.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply again. Her heart never stopped beating fast. But at least, she was moving. Soon, everything would have been over. That was something that would always gave her some form of comfort. Waiting on a bus stop gives you the impression of being steady, waiting for something to happen, waiting for life to pass by and pick you up. Now, she was moving forward. She was killing time, seconds were passing fast and she knew the end of those butterflies in her stomach was close.

Ten minutes gone.

Not long now. Her eyes went back to the paper. Then, out of the window.

It was time to stop revisiting the text and start working on herself.

No need of being nervous, no need of being anxious. It would have only made it worse.

She started focusing on the people she was seeing and the buildings around her.

Fifteen minutes gone.

She put the paper back in her bag. 

Next stop.

She started walking down the stairs. The bus was earlier today. Better this way.

She went off, the school in front of her.

It’s just a test.

She moved one foot, then the other.

Not long now, until she was going to put her future into a piece of paper.

 ©thegirlinthe_dress