The miscellany of brightly colour lights flashed past the window, strongly contrasting the inky night sky. The condensation across the window was cold against the side of my face as I rested my head against it. The icy mist blurred the picturesque view of the well illuminated city.
I always hated this route. It passed where it happened. The haunting memories of that day still live in my head, rent-free.
The thunder boomed fiercely, the lightening flashed vividly, the wind whipped past us. The wind howled down the alleys like wolves. The street was in darkness except the occasional flicker of a streetlight. We all heard the distant hum of a car, possibly travelling fast. Well, all except one. The same high-pitched discordant screech of car brakes still rings in my head now. Along with the crash as the car hit her and the violent shatter of the windscreen.
I was suddenly back to reality. The bus has stopped, traffic lights I presumed. No one could have stopped the accident. It happened too fast for anyone to realise and we had all had too much to drink anyhow. Her death broke the friendship. We slowly spoke less frequently and rarely met until we stopped talking all together.
The man behind me tapped my shoulder and I realised we weren’t moving. I turned to face him and he stated,
‘I thought you usually get off a few stops back’
I panicked, looking through the window to realise I must have missed my stop reliving the accident. As I left the bus I looked up, the stars in the sky seems so systematic. A flash of blue caught my eye in the distance; noticeably different to that of the bright white room lights in the distance and warm white street lights. No wonder we had been waiting so long, there had been accident.
