The bus ride home was abnormally quiet today. As it should be in my opinion.
The back of the bus, which is usually filled with loud kids, the smell of marijuana trying to be covered up with perfume, the occasional crumpled up piece of paper being thrown at someone else, and the popular kids picking on the ones that weren’t so lucky, was replaced with silence. Sweet and utter silence.
The front of the bus, which is my least favorite, usually held a group of loud, obnoxious girls who were always screaming and laughing that awful, annoying laugh. Now their noise was replaced with their sobbing and their quiet pleadings to go home. It was kind of funny to see really. They’re always bothering me and they’re so annoying. All they do is nag at me and call me names.
The middle of the bus, usually buzzing with the sound of children talking, laughing, spreading rumors, fussing about one of their least favorite teachers, complaints about having to do exams, and sharing their excitement about how summer is coming up and they can’t wait to go home and sleep away everything they’ve learned this year; was now filled with silent kids who you would never know had anything to say unless you knew them personally on a daily basis.
Looking at their sad, drawn out, and tired faces, I could tell that what had happened was worth it. What had happened had scared them all into silence (except for the few that were murmuring things like, “what happened? “Are you ok?” “Somebody tell me what’s going on!” “Please, I just want my mom.”) And this silence was good. It would help me focus on the important things. Everyone was sad and scared and crying, except me of course. Why should I be upset or scared? What I did was perfectly justified. What I will do is perfectly justified. They all deserve what they have coming to them. They have never done anything good for me in the years I’ve spent with them.
I’m going to start with the girls at the front of the bus. They always made my life a living hell, and they deserve it the most. Really, they make everyone’s life hell. And then I think I will go to the back of the bus. Those kids never shut up and it’s always super distracting. All they talk about is how many girls they have on their side and why they hate their parents because they didn’t get the right car for their birthday. I’ll leave the middle for last. They’ll be the hardest, because at least they’re decent enough to talk to me. Even still, they don’t appreciate anything I do for them.
But until I’m able to get to it, I’m just going to continue doing my job, driving the bus like I’m supposed to and pretending that nothing has or will ever happen. Though, based on how they’re acting, I believe they already know what I’m going to do and that there is no avoiding it.