Creative Writing : Bus Journey
Creative Writing : Bus Journey
English coursework
By: Kassandra Thomas
It was a cold and dismal day. It was the kind of day that made you want to prolong the sleeping hours, and stay snug and comfortable in the warmth of your welcoming bed
It was the kind of day that made you have to urge your muscle's to operate properly in order for you to get anywhere. These were the kind of days that Brooklyn wished she could hide from.
She pulled her coat on over her meagre, nutrition starved body and stepped out into the rain. The cold consumed her almost immediately and she began to shiver uncontrollably. She knew she had a long bus journey ahead of her and the thought of it had become unbearable, Brooklyn looked to her watch, knowing beforehand the outcome. She was late for her audition and second chances very seldomly cropped up.
Brooklyn ran, desperately trying to force air into her lungs at the same time but it had been in vain, she reached the bus stop just in time to see her number 66 pulling away. She slumped her bag over her left shoulder in a useless attempt to relieve her right shoulder from the ache it had gotten. Brooklyn sighed dramatically in despair as she wiped her chestnut coloured hair from her eyes. The bottom's of her embroidered jeans were soaked through and carefully decorated with the odd splatter of mud. She would have to wait another 20 minutes before the next bus would arrive, and that was if the bus was on time, give or take 5 minutes!
Brooke peered into the road, in the distance she could see a bus, its bright colours blurred her vision but she was sure it was hers. She reached into her pocket in attempt to find her bus pass. After a few seconds of fiddling about she was able to free it from the old chewing gum that had caused it to stick in the cheaply lined pouch that was also home to: half an eaten lollipop, a fresh stick of gum, a 50 pence piece, and a wallet picture of Michael Jackson.
As the bus pulled up ...
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Brooke peered into the road, in the distance she could see a bus, its bright colours blurred her vision but she was sure it was hers. She reached into her pocket in attempt to find her bus pass. After a few seconds of fiddling about she was able to free it from the old chewing gum that had caused it to stick in the cheaply lined pouch that was also home to: half an eaten lollipop, a fresh stick of gum, a 50 pence piece, and a wallet picture of Michael Jackson.
As the bus pulled up and the doors opened Brooke was greeted with the strong smell of bodies. Cheap cologne's and expensive perfumes battled in an almost choking atmosphere, Brooke smiled politely at the driver and moved down into the rear of the bus. There were no seats at this point but soon the herd of bodies would gallop off the bus in hope of catching the train that might precede their journey, in the mean time Brooke felt as if she were drowning in a sea of bodies. The man standing next to her was on a mobile phone. He spoke loudly with a coarse Scottish accent occasionally allowing spit to fly from his lips onto her head. His breath smelt strong of coffee and cigarettes, badly disguised with toothpaste. She gazed into his mouth, it seemed to be littered with fillings gaps{where there were supposed to be teeth} and stained teeth. The bus ground to a halt and as she had predicted a bulk of the bodies flooded out onto the street, With very little distance between those who were speed walking and those who were running! General direction- The Train Station!
Brooklyn took a seat next to the window, she liked the seats that were elevated slightly higher than the rest. The windows were clouded up and she ran her finger over it spelling out her name, Just then a lady came and sat next to her. She had cherry blonde hair that she wore at shoulder length, her lips were rouged and her eyes were a beautiful shade of sea green. Her skin was obviously pale as it was covered in a thick layer of blotchy foundation, she smiled unconvincingly to reveal a set of perfectly white, straight teeth. She was slim, almost too slim and her tights were baggy around her ankles. Her nails were neatly manicured and she was clasping her purse so tightly that her fingertips had turned red. Brooke sensed the woman's discomfort at the strict inspection and consequently let her gaze wander to the man across the way from them.
He was chubby and had a bald patch at the centre of his head. His hair was a very light shade of brown, his jeans were faded and had been attacked by holes, his beard looked rough and his eyebrows were thick and bushy. Brooklyn stifled the laughter that was about to leave her mouth as she glared at his belly, it hung proudly over his jeans onto his lap, this is what she thought might happen to her if she didn't exersize regularly. The bus stopped and off flocked more people, taking their smells with them like some prized possessions.
In the distance Brooklyn could hear the voices of people getting onto the bus,"forty please," "a child to Bradfield please," "how much is it for just two stops?" She couldn't help on such a mundane bus ride to look and judge the different characters as they waited longingly for the bus to approach their destination.
There was a baby sitting on her mother's lap, her cheeks were rosy and full of life. She bounced up and down looking around in awe at everyone and everything that passed her by. She played contentedly with her mother's hair and earrings dribbling occasionally, and each time her mother would wipe her mouth and gaze lovingly into her eyes. She looked patient and gentle and Brooklyn wondered if she could ever be that way with her own children. The baby stood up on her mother's lap and began touching the man's hand behind them. He felt awkward, Brooke could tell, he moved his hand hesitantly then to her surprise he began to pull silly faces and make googling noises. The baby let out shrieks of laughter and noises of pleasure, her little body doubled up and swayed backwards and forwards as she laughed freely. The mother turned to the man, they exchanged smiles then she got off the bus, as she did Brooklyn could faintly smell the soft scent of talcum powder.
There were two more stops until Brooklyn's and she peered into the sea of new faces, there were smiles, frowns, colours and sizes of all sorts but Brooklyn didn't feel like judging as she had done before. She gazed out of the window, she felt like the scenery was recurring, going round and round, seeing the same trees, houses and fields just different people. Brooklyn looked down towards the front of the bus; there was a girl of a similar age staring at her. Brooke new that stare, it was her stare; it was the stare she gave when she judged people. There was an explosion of embarrassment as their eyes met, they both broke away from the gripping gaze in time to realise they had missed their stop.
The End