Into the Night

{New} Ch. 1 : Once or Twice Bitten

The sun began its descent behind the horizon. Its bloody hues embraced the violet night like a bruise spreading across a patch of skin. Traveling in the opposite direction of the day's demise, a greyhound bus continued to travel to its final destination.

Over the highway the full moon hung. To the empty fields to the bus's left and to the thick woods to the bus's right, it devoured the day. Then the night began its reign.

It was beautiful and yet the twenty-one men and women on the bus didn't bother to notice. Their eyes were on their phones and their ears were shut off. They couldn't pick up on the low groan rumbling from the dying bus. They couldn't see the tragedy to come.

And yet their behavior is normal. Whether it's to a bus, a cell, or an wanted life, the result is the same. There's a dulling of senses, a willingness to forget, and a mind on the verge of shutting itself off.

It's normal to tie concrete blocks to painful thoughts and pray they don't wash up on the shore of the mind. It makes the moments before the discovery bearable.

If they were a less how they were "supposed" to be, they might have noticed a few pertinent details. They didn't see the way the trees blurred past them a little too fast, or the bus listing lazily to the left, or how the bus's driver behaved... oddly.

It wasn't the first time the bus driver worked overtime. Nor was it the first time that he went forty-eight hours without sleep. It was, however, the first time that he tossed back three java-flavored monster energy drinks and a prescription strength muscle relaxer.

He whispered, "vroom-vroom."

No one bothered to notice his existence. They couldn't pick him out of a lineup if their lives depended on it. They were oblivious of the setting sun, the person driving them to their their destination, and other deaths to come.

The only one's awake were a high school rock band. They were coming back from a battle of the bands held inside a different high school's auditorium. First place was a coupon for Red Lobster and the rest no one bothered to take remember.

"Hey, yah gotta start somewhere," was their shield against haters. Sleep deprived passengers gave them the side-eye when they started to practice a cappella.

They did so because their manager told them sarcastically, "when you can't follow a tune with your voice you should totally drop the melody supporting it."

They didn't get that she was being sarcastic. Or that the she signed them up for a gig far away just to get some peace and quiet.

They stopped singing to make a dramatic decision. What instrument should they cut from their ensemble. Which included two drummers, one violinist, one cellist, two guitarists, a bassist, and a theremin.

It was an unspoken understanding that theremin was going to stay no matter what. Only the greats have a theremin and they wanted to be great.

"Psst!" The drummer, that everyone assumed was going to get booted, said. "Charlie could you stop eye-humping that twink and focus on the task at hand?"

"Umm... yeah what's up?"

The band groaned in a harmony they couldn't capture on stage.

"Seriously?" Asked the drummer that the others actually liked. "You've been at it all weekend. Who knows? We probably would have won-"

No, they wouldn't have.

"-if you were focused on the music instead of some guy. "

Charlie cocked one eyebrow and crossed his arms. He wished he had a "witty" insult, but instead he scoffed repeatedly. At the last moment, he chose to go with an emotional appeal.