Too Late To Say I Love You

I shiver harshly as I step outside the double glass doors to Le Caffeine and onto the dry, cracked pavement that is rather crumbled and supposed to be a sidewalk. I glance at my cell phone and roll my eyes dramatically when I see what time it is, 12:30am. Typical, the city transit line that runs through this part of town is long closed and I'll have to walk all the way to Carlton Bridge to get the bus home tonight. I step off the sidewalk and maneuver my way across the street, my feet step around discarded beer cans and smashed liquor bottles which used to hold hard liquor in them.

"Walking this road at night with only the light from the streetlamps--" I'm cut off by a loud buzzing noise, the streetlamps flicker madly their dull light switching on and off a few times before letting out a hiss and shutting off all together. "Oh, my, god!" I screech my voice increasing with each word, they echo angrily on the cluttered mess of retired buildings with shattered windows which are spray painted with profanities and gang names.

"This cannot get any worse can it?" I ask myself. And as it turns out it can, because to my misfortune there is loud rumble of thunder and it begins pouring rain. "Just perfect, just flipping perfect." I grumble slapping my purse onto my head as I stomp down the soaked street in the direction of the bridge.

By the time I have scrambled into the bus shelter at the bridge an hour and a half later I look like I just emerged from a lake. My blond hair is plastered to my dripping clothes, I rub my bloodshot eyes, feeling tears in the corners. I look towards the bus shelter's little bench and sigh when I see it's been split, I slide to the concrete floor slower than an old man sitting on a chair and let my head fall back smashing it on the wall. Outside the bus shelter rain drags down the world, tree branches hang down from the constant waterfall and the road is abused by rapidly falling drops of water, there really isn't anything around this part of town, just trees, road, bridge and this broken looking bus shelter. I let my purse flop off my lap and onto the ground. I feel water running off me and onto the ground soaking it with the acid rain.

"Why me?" I ask myself. I test the words out on my tongue; they are familiar and hold no sympathy to my situation. It's always me, it's always been me and it always will be me.

"Hey you!" Yelps a voice from just down the road. I turn my head and look, and point stupidly at myself even though there isn't anybody except me and the guy who is approaching the bus shelter. "Yeah, you, did the bus come yet?" He asks me. I roll my eyes.

"Yeah totally that's why I am just sitting here like a moron soaked, you know what that's like right?" I ask him lacing my voice heavily with sarcasm. He chuckles as he ducks inside the shelter.

"You're pretty funny for a girl who looks like she's frozen." He comments. It isn't until he points it out that I realize how numb I feel.

"Yeah, I suppose so, because that's just me." I mutter under my breath not bothering to look up at the guy. I am startled when he sinks down beside me and offers me his jacket. 

"Thanks?" I say uncertainly accepting the jacket from him and laying it across the front of me, it's still warm and it's dry on the inside.

"No problem. I'm Simba. Simba Ruben." He says to me. 

"Alexa. Alexa Dowell." I reply.

"Nice to meet you Alexa. So what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He gestures around us to the rather empty place. 

"It's a long story, and I don't feel like telling it." I say to him bluntly. Simba nods. I can't help but notice how cute he is. He's at least 6'2 when he's standing with dark brown semi-long hair that falls just shy of his grey-green eyes. We sit in silence; the only sound is the rain and wind whipping at the shelter.

An hour passes and the bus hasn't arrived. The rain has stopped but there is a thick fog around the area, I can't even see out the plastic windows. The air is heavy with the scent of... smoke. 

"Simba, do you smell that?" I ask him urgently.

"Yeah, I do. We should get out of here this could be danger---" Simba is cut off by squealing tires as a van rapidly backs up and jerks to a halt with the exhaust pipe locked into the shelter. The door way is blocked. 

"Holy crap!” I scream as I rock to my feet and begin to thrash at the plastic windows furiously trying desperately to break us out of the shelter, once feeling like refuge, now like a death trap.

"Alexa, move!" Commands Simba, he's snapped off a piece of the bench and begins assaulting the plastic; it doesn't give away even when I resume pounding on it with my fists. The wood splinters and my knuckles spilt open but the windows still do not give away. By this point we are choking on the fumes and our strength diminishing. I slip to the floor and rest my cheek against the wall. Simba is short to follow. 

"Simba. W-what are we going to do?" I breathe. Simba shrugs and we share a final glance, this is most likely our last moment. I'm going to die beside this guy I just met. At least I'm not alone. Our hands find each other and Simba grasps mine knotting his fingers with mine. Then my vision blurs and I've died with Simba beside me. I found my soulmate and it's too late to say 'I love you'