A/N: Well, before I start the next chapter, I would just like to say something:

I AM EXTREMELY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. Writer's block is a pain, lemme tell YOU.

-Tear-

I feel the utmost remorse.

Anyways, since you have been waiting –thinks- about 3 months now...I'll get on with the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The only thing I own is my character. That is the sad truth. –another tear-

NEXT CHAPPIE!!!

Chapter 3

They Call This Thing a Bus?

Faye Bristol hoisted her tiny frame into Mr. Bristol's car. She heaved her duffel bag into her father's car proceeding getting in. Letting out a grunt of frustration when her bag caught on the door, Faye yanked angrily, sending the black bag flying with the result of built up momentum. Mr. Bristol stepped into the gold Explorer and closed the door behind him with a resounding clunk.

"Everything in?" Faye's father asked her.

"Yeah."

Apart from these three words uttered between the pair, barely anything else was said through most of the duration of the bleak car ride. Silence ensued, making the trip uncomfortable and awkward. However, maybe it was just the inevitable fact that eventually the journey to the bus stop would end, and the two would have to part for a long sixteen months. Suddenly, in the mist of the think silence, Mr. Bristol's car halted to an abrupt and surprisingly sudden stop. Car horns could be heard in the distance, flustering the already-flustered father.

"What was that?!" Faye said frantically. "What happened? Why did we stop?"

"Mr. Navy Blue Suburban in front of me tried to run a red light, but another car pulled in front of him." Faye's father replied.

"Oh." Faye peered out the window at the line-up before her. Sure enough, a red Mustang was seen in the middle of the crossroads, too paranoid to hit the gas and continue driving. The driver stepped out the car and inspected the back and sides of his prized automobile, making sure no scratches, dents, or chips were visible. "What time is it?"

Mr. Bristol looked at the car clock. "Oh jeez! We need to get going! Hold on, honey." Quickly and skillfully (also illegally), he passed up the lineup before him and accelerated into the distance. Faye watched behind her as the scene began to shrink slowly, eventually becoming a speck and then disappearing altogether. Pivoting in her seat to face forward once more, she sighed. Faye propped her elbow on the car ledge once more and set her head on her fist. Her eyelids began drooping. Try as she might, she couldn't keep them open. Giving into the temptation of slumber, she dozed off, her head lolling to the car's rhythmic movement…

Faye's father nudged her in the side. Gently shaking her shoulder, he urged her to wake. Drowsily, she opened her eyes, taking in the surroundings around her. They had arrived at a bus stop. The car was parked and turned off, facing a grassland-type area, stretching off into what looked like desert. Desert?Faye wondered. Shrugging it off as trivial, she ignored the abrupt change of scenery in the distance. Unlocking the car door, Faye hopped out, dragging out her bag.

"Need any help?" Mr. Bristol offered.

Faye replied, "No, thanks. I'm fine. I got it."

"Alright."

Faye lurched over to the rusty bench situated next to the bus stop sign (which, coincidentally, was also rusty). Peering up at it, she shielded her eyes from the bright sun and looked at the writing and graffiti posted on the old sign. Numerous profanities and declarations of love (M.M. D.O.; I Love Brad) were scrawled in various places. Faye glanced back down at the dusty cement her feet were resting. Again, she heaved a small sigh.

Her father plopped himself down next to her, letting out a barely audible grunt and massaged his spine. "I'm getting old."

"No, Dad. You're fine. Don't worry about it," Faye said.

Mr. Bristol sighed. "You sound like me. Faye, you're becoming an old fart. Promise me you won't grow up too fast…promise?" Faye looked over at her father and met his eyes. The eyebrows were scrunched in a look of begging. Not being capable of holding the gaze, Faye turned away and looked at the distant barren land behind her.

"Yeah. I promise, Dad." Faye looked at the ground, knowing the hollowness and emptiness of the sham of a promise, knowing that reaching adulthood couldn't be delayed long by a simple oath. Faye's father put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

"That's the Faye I know. Now, you'll write every day, right? You better, or else you'll be hearing from your mother and me." Faye winced once more at the term "mother". Her father ha taken note of her distaste for his recent wife, and had been impressing upon her how vital it was to become more involved with the family and to accept the fact her former mother was not returning anytime soon.

Faye replied, "I'll try."

"Try is not good enough, sweetie. You WILL, you hear me?"

"Okay, okay, I WILL write every day." Faye rolled her eyes playfully. At that moment a yellow, chipped, decrepit bus pulled into the station, screeching to a halt. Mr. Bristol cringed.

"Well, I guess that's your ride. You better get on; the driver doesn't look too patient."

"Alright…well…bye, Dad." Faye fought to keep the tightness in her throat from overpowering her.

"I love you, sweetie. I always will." Mr. Bristol hugged his red-haired daughter tightly, and sniffed, most uncharacteristic for him. "Well, get going now. See you soon, Faye!" Faye watched as her father got into his car and put it in reverse, backing out of the spot and pulling away, shrinking into the distance. Looking up at the bus driver, who seemed to be looking at her (she couldn't exactly tell because of the sunglasses her sported) chewing his cigar.

Looking at her, he faced forward once more, waiting impatiently, as if this petty girl was not worth his time or energy. Faye jogged over to the rusty, old bench where her items were set and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. Glancing at the massacred pole, she fidgeted for a marker, and finally extracted a black permanent one from her cargo pants' side pocket. Uncapping it and jamming the cap between her teeth for the moment, she scrawled a rushed "F.B.". As an afterthought, she added: "They call that thing a bus?" Finished, she glanced at the bus driver once more, finding him in his previous position of seemingly staring out into the distance, she capped the marker, and jogged to the bus.

The bus driver pulled the lever and opened the chipped doors. "Take yer seat. Quick-like, now. I don't have no time for foolishness." Hurriedly choosing a hard metal seat out of the seemingly endless plethora of hard, metal seats, she plunked her bag down and just barely managed to fall into her seat when the bus backed out, sending her slamming into the back of the seat. Grimacing and rubbing her back, she swore to herself quietly, throwing a glare at the careless driver. He suddenly stopped the bus, reached into a compartment, and drew out handcuffs, silently putting them on. The brute strength of his hands forced Faye into submission.

Hoping to find out how long the ride would take, she asked the driver, but received no reply. Repeating herself louder, for they were now passing over some small potholes, but again, had no luck. Rolling her eyes and giving up, she sagged against the metal and stared out the window, wondering how bad things could get. Let's see, I'm in the middle some wasteland, in handcuffs, with a bus driver who's a fan of the silent treatment…this might seems like it's what I would call bad…, she thought to herself.

The "potholes" became rougher and deeper, rattling the bus and shaking Faye from her thoughts every few minutes. Soon, they became more and more frequent. What the hell? Peering out the window, another "pothole" threw her back into the seat. She waited for another cautiously, but one didn't come. Taking this chance to see what was causing the bumps and rattles, she peered out the window once more, but this time with success. Faye's eyes widened and her mouth gaped open ever so slightly. Before her eyes appeared holes.

Everywhere, to beyond the eye could see.

Just dozens, hundreds, even, of holes.

Well, I'm very sorry about the delay, but this chapter took me awhile. FINALLY, this story is picking up the pace, no? Yes.

I would like to thank my ever-faithful reviewers. I applaud them.

Thank you:

Mellabee, Nosilla, Ruinsul, BloodCrested, PopcornLeader, Pixie 03, and all others.

If I left you out, my sincerest apologies.

Well, I must get going now! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! CHANT WITH ME! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW. Engrave it upon YOUR SOUL, YOUR VERY BEING. YOU…MUST…REVIEW.

I shall not update until I get 6 reviews on this here chapter. And don't you mope. Put your moping energies into a review. Every review brings you closer to a proceeding chapter.

Alright, I'm done.

Tah

-gReeNeYedeLfguRL13