Voltaire

The morning sky still held the residue of night, bleak partial darkness with streaks of light andcolor was what you would expect at dawn. It’s 5 AM on a Monday, so imagine everyone’s moodand agility. My eyes felt heavy again, and the book in my hand tilted downwards. I bookmarkedthe page I was on, and decided to surrender to sleep and doze off. I was barely a few minutes injoyful unconsciousness, when the driver hit the brakes and jolted me awake, again. “This one isstarting to piss me off.” I said through clenched teeth.

“Same here.” Mumbled my companion on this ride and every other bus ride to our job in thecity; Alex. He has memorized the drivers-due to our extensive use of public transportation-oneby one; this one isn’t his favorite. Working in the city didn’t hold such appeal once you actuallystart going back and forth between home and work. You go to work tired and you come backhome even more tired. You do some of the paperwork on the way, but most of your handwritingis ragged and incoherent due to the splendid roads on which we commute on. You double effortsto equate lagged efforts of your fellow colleagues living near work. People feel entitled tosuggest living in the city, as if it is the grandest idea of this century, well news flash! It sucks. Inaddition to the expenses of opening a home for only just one person, also I already tried. The

hinges of the curtains on the bus tap the window violently extenuating the turbulence by which

our driver is encouraging, “if he could slow down just a bit that would be great” I remarked

sarcastically, seriously I didn’t want to die just because some prick wanted to get to the station

earlier than expected.

“Well I am guessing you didn’t have your coffee at home.” Commented Alex. He was right,

though the coffee wasn’t the only reason my mood was off; something about today felt off. Felt

really off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling from the moment I woke up this morning.

“I don’t know Alex, don’t you feel weird? Like today feels weird?” I questioned.

He shrugged, “not really, just another day.” The bus shifted as he said that, and most of the

passengers started expressing their disapproval of the driver’s driving, protesting and insisting he

slow down. “This guy is seriously in a hurry” I declared. My phone vibrated in my pocket,

seeing the caller ID didn’t encourage me to answer.

“Still not talking huh?” Alex interjected.

“No. He can forget it.” I said coldly and stared at the passing scene. It’s a passing conversation to

him but to me it was my life. He keeps asking me whether Omar and I were speaking and every

time I would dismiss the issue. We commute together he shouldn’t confuse that with meddling in

my personal life. The same scene repeated itself, so did the same conversation. I knew what he

was going to say next, I just did.

“Don’t you think you’re throwing things a bit out of proportion?” he meddled. Again.

“Alex not this again.” I said with an exasperated mono-tone.

“Yes this again. The poor guy has been calling you for days now. Believe me I know that. He

even showed up at work, and you house.” He said sympathetically.

“That renders him stalking material therefor I should stay away.” I pointed out.

On our way to the city, there is this highway that overlooks the coast line, the splendid sea spread

majestically as far as the eye can see. At that moment, we were about to trail across. As Alex was

about to talk, this tightening in my chest started. This ache. What did I eat the night before?

There are moments in your life, where your whole body anticipates an impact. An incidence. A

trigger. That one moment. As my chest got tighter, this claustrophobic anxiety followed. I

needed air. I needed to breathe.“I didn’t mean that. I meant…” he was halted. One moment. That moment.

The sound of metal, screeching against the pavement. People screaming, praying, pleading. The

hinges on the curtains beating more violently against the glass of the window. Alex panicking

and shieling me with his arm, as if it was a seat belt. What for Alex? Tumbling, rolling. All that

metal. All those people. Alex kept saying it was going to be alright. No it isn’t Alex. His eyes

mirrored what he tried to hide; panic and fear. Mostly fear. I am afraid too Alex, nobody asked

you to play tough guy. The glass, the hinges, hit and showered everyone, that made the

screaming louder and louder. I can’t blame them. At that moment, I opened my heart and prayed.

May the loss of myself fade away gently through time, may they remember me only in laughter.

May my past sins be overlooked by the good I have done in my life. My tears streaming down my

cheek as my body toppled and tangled with many others, Alex securely holding my hand and

wouldn’t let go. Let go Alex. Let go.

As we hit the water, so did I. May God have mercy on my soul.