The Greyhound

Awakening from a sweaty nap, I open my eyes to unfamiliar scenery. I have been on a crammed greyhound bus for over four hours. I wasn’t planning on falling asleep. I have never met or talked to a single person on this bus. My body is aching, neck is sore, and I feel as if something is missing. Everything on this bus is sketchy, including the bus driver and I feel as if we’re heading in a direction none of us planned on going.
I glance up into the mirror above the bus driver, noticing his creepy grin form under his black pilot hat. I examine him; He is clothed in a black suit, blue dress shirt underneath, and a red tie. My eyes stay in his mirror as I look around and notice the passengers who have been riding along with me, average people who look just as anxious and ready to get off as me. I catch the eye of the bus driver, and quickly jerk my head down and crouch into my seat.
I’m from small town Plenty Wood, Montana just a country girl searching for the city. My intentions were to go to New York, New York to see all the flashing lights and experience something I have never been accustomed to. I had saved up all year long, working long hard shifts at Candie’s Diner a small little restaurant my family has owned since I was ten. I had decided to take this trip for my twenty firth birthday. All these years, and I had never left Montana until now.
My stomach began to growl and rumble and people glance me looks as if they’re saying get that checked out; use the bathroom, or eat something. I look into my bag, just to find trash. Everything has been eaten although I don’t remember touching anything and my stomach is empty. I walk towards the front of the bus my heart is racing; I trip just from clumsiness and me being nervous. I catch myself on a man’s shoulder to break my fall. His blue eyes meet my poopy brown eyes, and he asks if I’m okay. I rudely say back “yes, just fine” and continue to walk forward with more fear than before.
My arm is jerked hard, and I’m pulled into a seat. It’s the same man with the blue eyes. “You have a lot of nerve! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he says.
“Um excuse me, do you even know me? Get your dirty hands off of me.” I flash him an evil look. “I’m trying to help you from making a big mistake,” he whispers out, easing his grip on my arm. “The bus driver, look down to his back pocket. Do you not see what is sticking out? I glance down and goose bumps form on my body. “I knew I sensed something bad about him.” I tell the man.
Before he can even speak any more, the bus comes to a scorching stop and everyone is flung into the seat in front of them. The bus driver says over the loud speakers “This is just the beginning, get ready for hell!”