The yellow bus patiently waited for every student in coats and hats to climb aboard underneath the grey and red stone building. A red and white flag whipped and roiled in the sleet and snow that flew with a mind of it's own. Kids leaped and shoved and hollered, shuffling into their seats under the driver's weary glare. Friends chattered with friends and planned outings or swapped grades and stories, exhausted from the overload of information. Or they slept on the grey smooth seats.

Matthew sat at the back with his loud obnoxious brother and tried to drown out his chattering. He took out a heavy red hardcover book. With gloves still on to block the chill emanating from the metal wall and the thin drafty window, he flipped the pages to the trident bookmark. The characters greeted him like old friends as he dove deeper into the story.

A hand grabbed the book out of his own and rudely threw it across the bus. His brother Alfred, with his bad luck and his stupidly outrageous strength, had chucked his favourite book across the bus at a boy who had dissed him. Instead, the hard object hit the driver in the back of the head.

The driver swerved on the icy highway, hit a concrete barrier and stopped. Matthew winced as he picked himself up from the ridged ground of the bus. Groaning was heard from all sides as others got up They knew from experience that when a bus braked, it was smart to take a braced position.

The furious bus driver turned around and said:" This is the last straw! You'll all pay for that!"