“Is there any particular reason you are in such a bad mood?” I poke at his ribs, letting out a giggle myself, but he doesn’t budge. “Oh, come on, grumpy…you’re no fun.” Dipping my head I mumble, “Danny, really, what’s going on?” I’m met with a frown on his face and the wind blowing my hair into my face.“Listen I’m trying my best here,” he stays silent, “and I’m sure that whatever it is, I can help you.” He stuffs his hand through his dark hair, and than uses it to rub his eyes. “Sloane,” he hesitates for a moment, “I just need you to shut up for a minute okay? I’m trying to think.” A part of me shatters. He hasn’t ever spoken to me like that. Not since- well we don’t talk about that. “S-sorry. But I do need your help.” “OK, what do you need help with? And where are we going anyway?” I ask, my heart still slightly aching. He stops walking, stopping me too by placing each hand on my shoulders. His eyes narrow, and he bites his bottom lip. I swallow a lump in my throat, I know that look. And I know what will happen if I don’t help him. I’ve lived this before. I don’t want to do it again. “No, Danny, please.” I cup my face in my hands trying to hide. “I know, I know. Sloane, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I-I just get so mad sometimes, I’ll get real help I swear. Please just this last time.” I pull away from him. “You say that every time…” He nods and then grabs my wrist tightly and forcefully tugs me forward. “Danny, stop.” He doesn’t and his grip tightens as I pull away. My heart bounces off of my ribs, I cannot do this again. After what feels like ages of walking through the woods, he finally stops walking but he doesn’t let go of me. “OK, Sloane, I’ll go get the body, you start digging.” He uses his free hand and forcefully shoves a shovel into mine. He releases my arm, an almost bruised looking ring around it and nudges me forward. Without loosing sight of me, he slowly steps twoard an old bus. He kneels down for a moment, and them tugs the body out of the bus by its arms, headed straight toward me. I shriek, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a dead body. But this one is different, there are odvious stab wounds to the man’s chest and bruised marks all over his skin. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I shutter, slowly stepping back from him. “I-I can’t do this…” He drops the man, and locks eyes with me. I want to run, I need to run, I know where this is gonna go. But I can’t. He steps toward me, “Sloane you’re shaking, come here.” I shake my head, stumbling over my own feet and the shovel I’m clutching so tightly with my hands. “Get the fuck away from me,” I mumble, a tear slipping down my cheek. He instead fills the spacebetween us, landing just inches away from me. “Don’t make me hurt you,” he whispers, his hot breath bouncing off my skin. Keeping eye contact he rips the shovel from my shaking hands and steps away beggining to dig. “You are no help Sloane, you never really have been.” I glare at the man for a moment, his lifeless eyes still. I do not want to end up like him. I turn, letting my body carry me as fast and far as it can. My legs moving in long even strides. I look back, but Danny isn’t digging anymore, he’s got his arm extended toward me. And he’s holding a gun. My heart falls to my toes. The air is filled with a deafening clap of what sounds like thunder, but I know that’s not what it is. The bullet strikes my back, splattering blood all over the ground around me as I fall. A sharp pain radiates through my body until it slowly becomes numb, but I can’t get up, my body really won’t allow it. I let my head fall back, angling it to face Danny. But he’s not where he was moment ago. There is nobody but a mutalated body. A hand rolls me over. Damn… _ _“Sloane,” he quivers, “look what you made me do.” Using both hands, wraps them around my neck, and stratles over me. My head begins pounding and everything starts becoming fuzzy and dark. I reach an arm out trying to push him off of me, but he swats it. I feel the ground for something, anything at all. My hand grazes something hard. A rock. I pick it up and with all of my energy, swing it at his head. He rolls off of me, whaling on the ground. I rise slightly, warm blood trickling down my thighs. He stands much quicker than I can and shoves me down. I let out an ear peircing scream and try to roll away as he aims his gun directly at me. He pins my down with his legs, the blood from where I stroke him falling onto me. He pulls the trigger, but I don’t feel anything at all. And everything becomes darker and darker.

When I was a little boy my parents gave me many toys, but my favorite were trains because they can take you to any place in the world.

My parents didn’t have much money but giving me toys on occassion was all that I wanted or rather needed. They said that I could be whatever I wanted- a teacher. An astronaut. A doctor. A painter. An illustrator.

Me? I wanted to become a train conductor. So that’s what I did. They thought it was funny. A little boys dream. But what they didn’t tell me is that out of all those titles, I must first be human.

And a human like me makes mistakes. I’ve hid alcohol in coke cans before. I never drank THAT much I thought to myself.“The tree crashed into me!” I could make that case, but it would be futile with the cops. A little girl behind me sobbed. A woman whispered to her husband, “Is he okay?” To which he replied, “Don’t think so.”

Will we ever be found? I was wondering. My head was pounding now and the woman behind them screamed at me, “Damn it! I knew you were drunk!” She told everyone to get to their feet. Meanwhile, I could barely stand. I started to talk but my words were slower than my mind could process. It felt like I was watching a slow motion picture movie. My speech was slurred. “Whatdya- this is m-your train! Your rules! No- my rules!” I tried telling her.

I’d been doing this job for thirty plus years. And all of a sudden this woman wants to tell me how to do my job? Hell no. The people were the best part about this job, and the views. God, you just couldn’t beat the views. Scenic mountains and rolling hills. God’s creation, you know?

The womans face appeared out of nowhere. It snapped me out of my reverie. Her face inches from mine. Her brows furrowed and face tomato red. “WE- she motioned to everyone in the back are going to go find help. Cell phone reception is poor out here and we need help. Someone’s bleeding in the back and looks like they’ll need stitches on their face, but you got it easy. All you need is water and therapy.”Her voice droned on. She recieved a water bottle from another passenger and tossed it at me. It landed in my lap.

“Trains.” I murmured. It all started with trains. It will all end with trains. My eyes felt heavy. The euphoria, the comfort of the weighted water bottle. Slowly i fell into a deep sleep. Darkness.

——

Do you think he wakes up in the hospital? Do the passengers sue him? What happens next- you decide. p.s. dont drink and drive!!!!

“I won’t get us lost,” Ravi says. “I didn’t get us lost either,” Rylee shoots back, trying to snatch the map from him.

“Ah, ah, ah… nope,” Ravi holds the map above his head, smiling down at Rylee.

“Asshole, gimmie that,” Rylee laughs, jumping up at the map, grabbing at Ravi’s arms.

“Nope, nope,” he jerks back and forth, keeping the map just out of reach.

Rylee jumps, wrapping around Ravi’s waist. She snatches the map and takes off running though the bushes as Ravi gives chase.

He throws threats, saying he’ll catch her. She laughs as she runs, ducking under branches and throwing glances over her shoulder as he catches up.

She shrieks as she runs, the map waving in her left hand. Ravi does a tackle, landing on top of Rylee and pinning her down. She wiggles under him, moving the map under her, so Ravi can’t get it.

“What did you do with the map, now?” He says, prying her fingers open, as she lays facedown in the dirt.

He flips her over, pushing hair from her face and snatching the map.

“Gottcha,” he rolls off of her, laying on his back.

They lay like that for awhile, watching the clouds float by until they’re hidden by the bright green trees.

Rylee gets up, motioning for Ravi to come on. He follows, map forgotten in his fist. As they make their way through the woods, Rylee tries to look for signs of wildlife.

“You’re crazy for wanting to come here,” Ravi says, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling with the sunlight.

“I’m not crazy. It’s pretty here.”

Ravi points to a red thing hidden in the bushes, “Hey, what’s that?”

“That looks like a…” Rylee puzzles over the object, drawing near, “a bus, I think.”

“An old one,” Ravi corrects Rylee, as if she needs it.

“I know that, Rav, it isn’t hard to see.”

“I mean it’s probably been there for awhile,” he says, pointing to the windows and smiling, “See? They’re busted.”

“Shut up, dork,” Rylee shoves him, laughing when he pushes back.

“I guess we are a magnet for paranormal… uh, stuff,” says Ravi, nudging my shoulder and smiling.

“Your English is so bad,” Rylee punches him on the shoulder, smiling and laughing. They she kisses him, “I think its perfect.”

“It’s not my fault English isn’t my language!”

“But it’s funny as hell,” Rylee replies, laying her hand on the side of the rusty bus.

“So you’re going to touch it after what happened last time?”

“Yeah, c’mere,” Rylee pulls him forward, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture as she pokes Ravi, making him smile.

“Come on, girl, let’s get out of here before we see ghosts and shit.”

Ravi drapes an arm around Rylee and together, they stroll from the woods.

Ravi still has that map, no matter how hard Rylee snuck around to get it.

"Really?" I grumble to myself as the bus lurches to a stop in the middle of the bumpy stone path through the middle of the woods.

"How long have we even been driving? Like five hours?" my best friend, Mira asks.

The notoriously long drive to Camp Seaside would usually range from three to four hours, but we had to stop for some kid to barf. Three times. Then four bathroom pit stops, one flat tire, and to fill up on gas a couple of times, making the ride take much longer than it was supposed to. But now at least we're in the home stretch, on the path that takes us to the beautiful beach that the camp was built on in 1992.

"I don't know," I say. "I wonder what it is this time."

Mira and I are in the first couple of rows, so we see the bus door open and a couple of counselors walk out of the bus cautiously.

"A bear?" I ask. "They all look... tense."

"Don't be stupid, Emmy," Mira responds. "We're probably way too close to the beach for it to be a bear."

Mira's probably right, because Mira is always right.

That's when I notice the bus. Just around the corner, the familiar orange of the camp buses shows. But we're the only bus taking kids to camp this week... it couldn't be more campers.

"Do ya see that too?" I ask, pointing to the bus.

Mira nods. "I wonder what it is."

"Okay everyone!" the bus driver announces. "I need everyone to stay cool, calm, and collected."

I feel goosebumps form on my legs.

"We have discovered an abandoned camp bus just up ahead. The windows are smashed, and the engine has been removed."

"Are there any bodies?" the class clown, Ethan asks, jokingly.

The driver takes a deep breath. "Yes."

I remember when I first got released from the hospital, I was trying everything in my power to get better, as you can tell from this video.

I can honestly say that this brain injury (TBI) has saved my life! Both literally and figuratively. I think back to before the accident, and I remember talking to my then bf about going to college, getting our own place, getting married, having kids, etc. All the while, I was smoking meth.

That was then but now though, I’m WAY busier than I would’ve been had this accident NOT happen to me. (& I haven’t done bad drugs in over a decade)

I’m currently working two jobs, going to school, practicing yoga, keeping up with daily chores, etc. It’s tough, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

SOOOOOOOOO

What I’m trying to get across is, if YOU have had a life changing event and you want to really ‘live’ life, I’d say, “Don’t be worried of what people say or how other people see you. YOU are perfectly made and there’s always a purpose to His madness

“I won’t get us lost,” Ravi says. “I didn’t get us lost either,” Rylee shoots back, trying to snatch the map from him.

“Ah, ah, ah… nope,” Ravi holds the map above his head, smiling down at Rylee.

“Asshole, gimmie that,” Rylee laughs, jumping up at the map, grabbing at Ravi’s arms.

“Nope, nope,” he jerks back and forth, keeping the map just out of reach.

Rylee jumps, wrapping around Ravi’s waist. She snatches the map and takes off running though the bushes as Ravi gives chase.

He throws threats, saying he’ll catch her. She laughs as she runs, ducking under branches and throwing glances over her shoulder as he catches up.

She shrieks as she runs, the map waving in her left hand. Ravi does a tackle, landing on top of Rylee and pinning her down. She wiggles under him, moving the map under her, so Ravi can’t get it.

“What did you do with the map, now?” He says, prying her fingers open, as she lays facedown in the dirt.

He flips her over, pushing hair from her face and snatching the map.

“Gottcha,” he rolls off of her, laying on his back.

They lay like that for awhile, watching the clouds float by until they’re hidden by the bright green trees.

Rylee gets up, motioning for Ravi to come on. He follows, map forgotten in his fist. As they make their way through the woods, Rylee tries to look for signs of wildlife.

“You’re crazy for wanting to come here,” Ravi says, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling with the sunlight.

“I’m not crazy. It’s pretty here.”

Ravi points to a red thing hidden in the bushes, “Hey, what’s that?”

“That looks like a…” Rylee puzzles over the object, drawing near, “a bus, I think.”

“An old one,” Ravi corrects Rylee, as if she needs it.

“I know that, Rav, it isn’t hard to see.”

“I mean it’s probably been there for awhile,” he says, pointing to the windows and smiling, “See? They’re busted.”

“Shut up, dork,” Rylee shoves him, laughing when he pushes back.

“I guess we are a magnet for paranormal… uh, stuff,” says Ravi, nudging her shoulder and smiling.

“Your English is so bad,” Rylee punches him on the arm, grinning and laughing.

“It’s not my fault English isn’t my language!”

“But it’s funny as hell,” Rylee replies, laying her hand on the side of the rusty bus.

“So you’re going to touch it after what happened last time?”

“Yeah, c’mere,” Rylee pulls him forward, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture as she pokes Ravi, making him smile.

“Come on, girl, let’s get out of here before we see ghosts and shit.” Ravi drapes an arm around Rylee and together, they stroll from the woods.

Ravi still has that map, no matter how hard Rylee snuck around to get it.

When you lie I Cover it up. When you cry I Cover it up. When you hide I Cover it up.

When you bleed I’m there To cover it up. When you fall apart I’m there To cover it up. When you lie I’m there To cover it up.

When I lie You Yell and you sneer. When I cry You Drown me in my tears. When I hide You Come find me in the dark.  When I bleed You tell me Clean it up. When I fall apart You’re there To scatter the pieces. When I cry You Drown me in my tears.

In the dark I hear your voice Calling out my name Like I have a choice.

In the dark I see your face Sneering at me And cackling like demonic witch.

In the dark I swear you can smell my fear Like dog gone wild Or a hog untied.

In the dark I hug myself.

I discovered the bus on the trail. How it got there, I didn’t know. It was old and had obviously been there for quite a while. Sure, there had been an old road here at one time, now grown in with blackberries and brush. It had probably come in during a much better time when the patch was clear and before a scrabble of tough grasses had replaced gravel. But now it sat in dappled moonlight, down the hill from me.

I stared at it for a long time. Surely it could not be complete and indeed it was missing windows and the engine cowling was open. My initial fear was that someone or something was still living in it. In the daytime, I am sure it was little more than a decrepit old bus. A rotted and rusted remnant of another time that had somehow ended up in another place. But in the darkness, it was a looming hulk. An isolated thing that was darker than the darkness itself. A place where shadows themselves disappeared into a greater darkness.

I approached cautiously. Maybe it would have been smarter to make noise, to scare off anything that might lurk inside. Some small beast might have found shelter and comfort in a place that outwardly looked so foreboding. But something told me to be quiet. I placed each step carefully, trying to avoid the patches of gravel and rock that remained.

It got bigger as I approached. All things are larger when you get closer to them. But this was different. It seemed to grow taller and loom. It was just an old bus. But it took on a more ominous sense the closer I came. My mind saw things in the empty windows and strange reflections in the windows that remained. I noticed parts and materials that the bus had shed, like some old skin, as it sat neglected in its forest home.

It drew me to the open door. Everything about it screamed danger in my brain. That dark maw leading to God knows what inside. But curiosity and some kind of thrill seeking death wish dampened down the fear flooding my heart. I had to look in. I had to see what trash or treasure lived and lurked in the darkness.

Outside, I could see the bottom step and the moon glinting off the steering wheel. If there had been a seat that once held the driver, it had exploded into a mound of decaying fluff that had blackened and sloughed off. I grabbed the handrail and pulled myself onto the bus.

I’m not sure what I expected to see. The aisle was an inky void. Moonlight reflected off the tops of the seatbacks. Material hung from the ceiling as if the forest itself had come inside to explore. A wave of rot and decay rolled past me. Something had died in here.

The door slammed closed. As I turned and bolted, I crumpled into its frame. Oh God, I was trapped. Oh God! I was IN a trap.

The raggedy sputtering bus pulled into an abandoned lot. It has been 16 weeks since a crew of nappy headed high school kids had hit the road to discover all they could about this wild, wasted of a country. Starting in the north east, they spent 10 whole days picking blueberries and mining for herikimer diamond. From there they travelled through Kentucky, sleeping in state parks, rolling in late at night, and out by dawn so they didn’t have to pay. Their bus, who they nicknamed Lilly, was steady and true. One of these granola headed kids had acquired from a distant cousin who lost it in a game of dice. It had travelled over 100,000 miles since they acquired it — bopping too and fro to Grateful Dead and Phish shows. On this particular adventure they had hopped to make it to the Oregon County Fair. Leaving Kentucky, they barreled through the flat and barren lands of Kansas toward the might Rocky Mountains. They stopped in their favorite town of Nederland. From there, they went to and fro, getting lost a few times, since in those days we didn’t have a fancy phone to find our way. We used a goddam map, an honest to goodness piece of paper that was dated and often indecipherable. They finally made it to Moab and right when they pulled in, the bus started jugging, and it wasn’t a good sign. The leader of the pack jumped out and started kicking Lilly that made the rest of the Nubs uncomfortable. It continued to inch forward, slow and steady, until it breathed one last thoughtful exhaust.

A soldier going home after being away for the first time with a belly growling empty empty as the wallet that should have been full from my last pay empty as a laughing mouth empty as a bottle from the night before

the lady behind him taps his shoulder between the bus’ seats bony fingers surprisingly strong on his shoulder blades she hands him a sandwich double wrapped in tinfoil hard fried pork chop with Lawrdy’s on soft white bread he tries to hand it back at the smell of the meat his stomach protests

Take it baby you can’t eat pride

the soldier falls on the sandwich another old lady hands the boy pound cake thickly sliced butter fragrant wax paper an old man gives the soldier boy a half pack of clove gum with five dollars folded small someone hands him a battered Thermos of nearly black sugar sweet tea ice cubes rattle and the old people talk of being young, being foolish between laughs as the soldier going home listens between mouthfuls