Chapter one-Crap!
You know there's some people in the world whose lives can only be described as easy. They've never worked particularly hard in their whole lives. Never think much about the future or worry about anything and somehow things always work out for them.
I'm not one of those people.
There's always been some kind of problem in my life. Growing up without a mother and having a father that was never around and doesn't care to know me. I'm not complaining though don't get me wrong. I have a nice new apartment in the city that I decorated my self that is very pretty and quiet and lonely, point is there's a time when things get too much to handle. When things like: finding your boyfriend fucking another girl in your bed, or your grandfather dying and his beloved temple being considered as the new site for a parking lot just gets you down. But those have all past and i'm slowly, slow-ly moving on. It's just things seem so much worse when you're out of breath from running to catch the last train, that you eventually miss and end up taking half a dozen buses to get to you're home. My teeth are chattering my hair is damp, mascara is running down my face and I've probably got pneumonia.
I'm finally calming down and just being thankful that this bus was the last one I would have to take, when I noticed that the last few people on the bus, apart from me, were getting off including the bus driver. I haven't really been on a bus since I was a teen so I just sat there like a lemon waiting for some kind of explanation.
After fifteen minutes the bus driver returned whistling a tune I couldn't recognise, he stopped when he noticed me.
'Love what are you doing?'
What a stupid question I'm obviously sitting down waiting for you to drive me to the bus stop near my home. Obviously I didn't say that because I'm not stupid, a woman alone on a late bus in the middle of nowhere with a bald bus driver, not that I have anything against bald people.
'I'm waiting for the Northfleet avenue stop? '
'This is the last stop love, sorry'.
Last stop. What?
'But this bus goes to Whitechapel doesn't it?
'It does but today we stop at Carnickle'.
Carnickle I've never even heard of it! He must have sensed my worry because then he said:
'The next bus should be going there though?'
Relief
'When's the next bus coming?
'In about an hour and a half'
Well. That isn't so bad. So I got off the bus and sat at the bus stop watching the bus driver smoke his cigarette inside the warm bus and then leave and realised how dark and lonely it was in Carnickle.
After waiting for what felt like at least an hour but ended up being ten minutes I figured I would look for some civilisation, maybe a cafe even though no cafe would be open 10.30pm at night.
Somehow I find myself in some weird tavern kind of place. There are two guys behind the counter. One who is intensely watching a wrestling match and occasionally shouting curses to the television, another who is talking animatedly to a big hairy man with lots of tattoos. In the far corner in the darkest part of the place was a slouched figure surrounded by empty pint glasses. The place was grotty with very poor lighting and a weird smell of beer ,cigarette smoke and vomit.
After a few minutes of standing there and not being noticed I figured this really wasn't the place for a twenty-something year old fairly attractive young lady. Unfortunately for me it seemed someone had noticed me and I felt a strong hand grab my wrist. Crap!
