Chapter one, part I

[SadistSecret]

The silence on the bus was broken only by the dull purr of the engine. "It's unusually quiet," the man thought to himself. He sat in the back of the bus, in a corner seat, seemingly paying no attention to the happenings on the bus. With a cold look on his face, he cast a dark aura that kept others away from the aft of the bus. He didn't care. Still silent, he turned up the volume on his CD player, pulled out a book, sans dust jacket, and started reading.

The ride seemed longer than usual to him. Eyes still fixed on his book, and music still pouring out of his headphones, he hadn't noticed the small child who chose to sit near him. Not next to hi, as his bag was possessing that seat, but in the next seat over. A few minutes passed before he noticed the child observing him. "What is he doing near me, let alone on the bus without his parents?" The man asked himself. He noticed the child thumbing through his sketchbook, curious about what resided in it. Eyes staring at the child, making sure he wouldn't run off with it, he feigned a lack of notice to the child's actions. "The boy will close it after a few pages anyway. He won't like what he sees," the man reassured himself, still pretending not to notice the inquisitive little boy.
"Hey, mister, I like your drawings." the sound of the boys voice startled him. he hadn't expected anyone to sit near him. No one ever did, but he didn't care. He expected even less for anyone to speak to him, especially a young child such as the boy.
"What about my drawings?" replied the man. His voice was higher than one would expect out of one his age, as though it had only dropped a few octaves during his later youth years.
"I really like them!" said the boy, pointing to one of a limp hand, the wrist slit and bleeding.
"You like that? The man asked.
"Yeah. The hand looks so real." The man was confused. How anyone - a young boy, even - like that picture?
"I suppose it does." The man went back to his book.
"Whatcha readin'?" the child asked inquisitively.
"Queen of the Damned. I don't think you would like it very much."
"Oh. Well, what's it about?"
"You're a little too young to read it, I think."
"So, it's a grown up book?" asked the child.
"I suppose you could say that." The child's curiosity was making he man uneasy. "Why did he ask so many questions?" the man thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the boy.
"What's your name?"
"My name is unimportant," the man answered in a cold tone.
"Sure it is. Everyone's name is inportant." the child said, struggling with the big word. He was also relentless in his pursuit of knowledge. This was starting to annoy the man, but he was not going to scold the boy for it. “You ask a question I would rather not answer," the man replied after a minute of thought.
"Why not?" asked the boy.
"I have my reasons, and they are my own. If it is not too much trouble for your young mind, I would prefer to be left to my book." With these words, the man got a cold look from many a passenger. He didn't care what the other's thought of him. He put his sketchbook back into his bag, replaced his headphones, and started reading again. The boy went back to his seat, near the front of the bus, although the man didn’t notice this. “What is that boy’s interest in me?” the man asked himself. He’d sat here, on this bus, this seat, every day, for longer than he could clearly remember, and just today someone decided to bother him. The man dismissed this thought from his head, and went back to his book. Soon after, two women got on the bus. Both blonde, one about five feet six inches tall, the other about another 6 inches taller. The shorter of the two led the other two a seat near the rear of the bus, on the other side of where the man was sitting. They were chatting back and forth like they were going to have their lips sewn shut the very next day. The man turned up his CD player in hopes of drowning out at least part of the infernal racket. He wondered how two people could make so much noise. He tried to read, but the two women made so much noise it was quite difficult for him. The shorter of the two women got up and sat in the seat next to his bag, pulled out a pad of Post-it notes. She then wrote something on one, pulled it from the pad, folded it, and gave it to the man. He unfolded it and read:

What are you reading?
The man wrote his response under hers.:

Queen of the Damned. Yes, I’ve seen the movie, and I like the book much better.

The girl read this, and wrote a note on another Post-It.

You read the first two books?

The man looked at this note, and turned to her and nodded his head, then went back to his book. He still could hear them, but the words were indistinct. “Probably talking about me,” he thought. He kept reading until her heard the taller one say four words that instantly got his attention: “I think he’s cute.” Now the man was stunned. People had shunned him for his clothing and his looks, but she thought he was cute. What serious psychological disorder was running amok in her head? The man was worried when her companion got off the bus. Would she start talking to him? The thought was very disturbing. And just as he thought, she moved over next to him, and Pulled out her own pad of Post-Its. She wrote her own note to him.

Hi. How are you?

He read this note, and wrote a reply:

Still alive.

She read and also replied:

Well, That’s a good thing!

He pulled a spiral out of his bag, took out a piece of paper from it, and started his own note:

I guess, if you say so.

She moved his bag, and sat right next to him. “What’s bothering you? Don’t you tell me that you don’t know because nobody who isn’t depressed says something like that.”<br>“I don’t even know your name. How -”<br>“Yeah and?”<br>“I don’t know you. why should I tell you my problems?”<br>“Because you need to get them off your chest.”<br>“They don’t bother me as much as you might think they do.”<br>“Bullshit. I can see it in your eyes."
"You don't even know me."
"Actually, I know you better than anyone else." Those words instilled shock and confusion in the man. How does someone he just met know him better than anyone? "Prove it," the man replied, still in some shock.

With that said, the girl pulled out of her purse a picture, one of her and what he thought to be all of her friends. The man knew she was telling the truth

[SadistSecret]

He was in that picture, a younger version of himself, still brownish blonde, but still wearing black. He saw people he hadn’t seen for years on that one piece of paper. They were all there, together infinitely on a photograph. “I’m right here,” she said, pointing to a face on the picture. “And you’re right here,” she said, moving her finger to his face. “Now tell me I don’t know you.” She told him in an “ I win” sort of tone. “It’s been a long time, you know. We’ve both changed quite a bit. At least I have. I’ve changed a lot since high school, more than you might know.”<br>“I still know you better than anyone, no matter how much has changed in you.”<br>“Prove that, too.”<br>“Simple. You’re not married and you don’t have a girlfriend right now. If you did, you’d have a ring on your finger if you were married, and even if you weren’t you’d be with her anyway, not alone on a bus. Therefore, no one knows you as well as I do.” The man looked at her in confusion. “Damn, she’s right,” he thought. “So, how have you been al these years?” she asked him.
“Meh. I’ve been better, I’ve been worse. Yourself?”<br>“I’d rather not go over it right now.”<br>“That bad?”<br>“Yeah. It was that bad,” she said, clearly expressing the want of not talking about it.
“wish there was something I could do.”<br>“You always wish there was something you could do. That’s stayed the same.”<br>“Meh.”<br>“What’s wrong?”<br>“You said it yourself. I don’t have anyone,” the man said in a depressed tone.
“Oh, that. You’ve never been able to be well without someone. That hasn’t changed either. You’re the same man I knew in high school.”<br>“Not exactly the same.”
“well no one’s exactly the same after that many years.” She said, then looked around and quickly pull the stop signal on the bus. “I’m getting off here. Where are you going?”<br>“Home. Maybe watch some TV, I dunno.”<br>“Come with me. We have years to catch up on.”<br>“Alright. Sounds like more fun than TV on my couch.”<br>The bus slowed to a stop, and the two got off the buss, exiting through the rear door. The wind was slow and warm, and sunset was fast approaching. The woman walk briskly away from it, and the man followed. They turned onto a side street, then an walked past 5 houses before they went inside her house. She made sure he went in first, then followed him inside, shutting the door.

[FierceLikeTiger]

Yay! James is writing again!

[jamesvampiress]

James you will hate me for saying this but you are an incredibly gifted writer. ( as well as incredibly cute ;D )

keep it up!