Armpit buried his face in his hands. He was really ready to turn his life around - for his mom, for his old friends, for himself. He couldn't believe it was all over - all of his chances were taken away from him. He pressed his forehead against the window, and silent tears rolled down his face. He had not cried in a long time; he thought all of the pain and guilt and anger and fear had numbed him from the cruelty of the world, but there he sat, trapped in a bus with the grave destination of death, crying to nobody but himself.



Squid fisted his hands together, like he didn't exactly know how to put the in each other. He hadn't prayed since his sister's death; after then, he had lost hope completely. Now, though, he was desperate. He couldn't stop this insane man, only something of greater power could. He needed something else, he needed God.

"Uhh - God?

Okay, I know, I have done some real rotten things, and I haven't believed in you for a while. But if you are up there, please, we all need you right now. Save us."

Suddenly, he felt more secure, like someone was holding his hand.

(hooray for the shortest chapter EVER!)