“You riding or not? I ain’t got all morning, kid.”
I was in fifth grade, starting at a new school in a new town unfamiliar to me. That first ride on the bus, all eyes on me as I traversed my way through the chaotic scene. Backpacks thrown in the air. Elbows bumping into me. Boys and girls snickering at the new kid. I took an open seat in the back and scooted down as low as possible.
“Pipe down, you little rats. This ain’t a daycare.”
Lifting my head just over the top seat in front of me, my eyes darted to the bus driver. An older woman with red, unkempt hair with a striking resemblance to the bird’s nest we had in our backyard tree.
“Freckled Fran, freckled Fran, freckled Fran.”
A wave of chants aimed at that poor old woman driving us in. Fran slammed on the breaks when she made it to the next stop. She turned her head and scowled back at the students who disrespected her with name-calling and giggles. Her face—flush with red—made the freckles vanish.
“Hey, what’s your name?” The boy in the seat across from me slid over to my seat. “I’m Colton, but you can call me Colt.”
My attention was still on Fran, who was uttering obscenities under her breath as she continued forward on the route.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s just a miserable old woman. I don’t know even know why she is still working here.”
Colt’s eyes widened, waiting for a reaction from me.
“Oh sorry, I’m Jake. I’m new to school.”
“Yeah, I can see that. We don’t get more than a few of you each year. Might be hard for you to blend in. Just stick with me, you know, cause I’m a cool cat.” Colt smirked and threw on ridiculous green sunglasses.
As I stepped off the bus that morning, I avoided eye contact with Fran. But I could feel her staring at me as I descended. My pace quickened, and I caught up with Colt.
Colt never made it on the bus the next morning. His parents were a mess, questioning the staff about his whereabouts during first period. Apparently, he never made it home the prior afternoon. They thought he was hanging out at a friend’s house.
I felt sick. My only friend had disappeared, and I was so worried about him. But the student disappearances were just beginning. Two more kids vanished overnight. The parents and school staff joined forces to form a search committee. My own parents were on it.
During one cold afternoon, I was the last student on the bus. When Fran passed my stop, my hands pressed into the seat cushion. A lump in my throat swirled with dread.
“I think you passed the stop I get off at.” My voice—barely audible—trembled.
“Little quiet Jakey. You’re just like the rest of them. A little snot who needs a proper silencing. All of you little shits, always ruining my peace and quiet. I’m going to poke your eyes out and shove them in your pie hole.”
“But I… I never made fun of you.”
I looked for an exit. I was a little big for the windows, but I knew I could try to climb out before Fran snatched me.
“Don’t get any crazy ideas kid, or I’ll pluck that head right off your scrawny neck.”
I glanced out the window and noticed we were now on a dirt road in the woods. Fran pulled over and stopped the bus. She stood up and faced me.
On the verge of passing out, I closed my eyes and took a few breaths. I heard commotion in front of me and recognized a voice. It was Colt. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Colt and the two other missing students circling Fran.
“Oh lordy, how are you—”
I could not believe my eyes. Pale, bloody versions of the three students. Were they ghosts? The three of them shoved Fran to the floor and suffocated her. From where I was sitting, it seemed as if they were stuffing something into her mouth, but it was hard to tell from where I sat.
Colt looked at me. “It’s okay now. She can’t hurt any more of us.”
The three of them took a seat. I walked up to Fran. Her face, purple and lifeless. Blackness where her eyes used to be. Within her mouth—just above her yellow, rotting teeth—her eyes stared at me.
I looked back at Colt, but he and the two others were gone. The authorities found their remains buried deep within a dirt pile in the woods.
I never rode the bus again after that.