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"Taking the Bus"

It's funny how time often messes us up. It can make us late and miss important events in our life, it could end up costing you a job or even a relationship. Or it can work in reverse and make you early. Sure, being early can be seen as a good thing. The one thing they don't tell you about being early is how unsettling it is beneath the surface. You can bear witness to things you weren't meant to see or hear things that weren't meant to unfold before you in that manner. Of course, being early can be incredibly fatal.

I was awakened just 15 minutes before 4am. I rubbed my eyes, struggling to force them open. They felt heavy, much like my own body that I was forced to drag out of bed. After I got on my feet, I stretched and let out a yawn. I flicked the lights on and threw on my uniform. I didn't get why they felt the need to open our restaurant so early in the morning. I guess I shouldn't really complain, the money I make there and the hours I get are better than anything else this town has to offer.
There was a slight chill in the air, making me reach for my jacket. I checked my thermostat, it was nearly 65 degrees in here. I thought about turning on the heat, but I figured it would warm up enough outside that it would already be toasty in here by the time I got off. I grabbed my keys, my phone, and slipped on my shoes before stepping outside into the cold crisp air of night.
I wished I didn't live so far away from work so I could walk there rather than take the bus. Thankfully, however, I didn't have to walk far for the bus stop. I sat on the cold, metal seat and waited for the bus to arrive. It didn't take too long to show up. The bus squeaked before making its full stop. The doors creaked open and there sat a bus driver to greet me. This guy was different from the one I was used to. I stepped on and deposited my fifty cents. The warm air of the bus felt like a warm blanket wrapping around me, making my feel much more relaxed.
I sat on my usual seat, just in the middle of the bus on the right side. I turned on my phone and kept my eyes on it. There weren't many people riding this time of night, but the social anxiety was still kicking in, making me take comfort in the distance between us.
Even though I had my head down, I still noticed from the corner of my eye, the man sitting across from me, starring without blinking. It was unsettling. I shot a quick glance up but he didn't look away for a second.
"You aren't supposed to be here," the man said in a low, raspy voice. There was something about his voice that felt incredibly unnerving.
I looked up and shot him a look of confusion.
"You know what this bus is, don't you?" he asked. "It's the bus of the damned. This bus is cursed. At 3am, we are doomed to repeat the same thing. Over and over for an eternity to pay for our sins of life."
I rolled my eyes and looked back down to my phone. This guy had no idea what he was talking about. It wasn't even 3am, I thought. I looked up at the time on the top corner of the phone. He was right, it was a few minutes after 3. How could that be possible? I had my alarm set and everything. That's when I remembered, it was daylight savings time. Time was supposed to go down an hour. I looked back up to him in horror.
"You believe me now, don't you, kid?" he said.
"What is it that you're doomed to repeat for an eternity?" I asked him.
In response, he stood and pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. He pointed it at me, making me scream and my blood run cold. This was it, this it how it ends.
"I'm sorry, kid," he said. I closed my eyes tight and waited. I heard the gunshot, but felt nothing. I slowly opened my eyes to find the gun was pointed at the driver. He was dead and the bus was swerving all over the road. The bus flipped and everything faded to black.

I was awakened by the honking of a bus. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was back at the bus stop, but how? Had I really dreamed the whole thing? I stood and pulled out my phone. It said 4am. It must have all been a horrible nightmare.
The bus driver before me honked again. "Are you going to get on or what?" he demanded. It was the bus driver I was used to seeing every day. I got on the bus and took my seat. I looked over the people on the bus before I took out my phone. I locked eyes with a creepy man, the same one I saw in my dream. The same on that pointed a gun at me. I stood up and yelled for the driver to stop the bus. The tires squealed and halted, throwing me backward slightly.
"What the hell?" he looked up at me like I was some kind of lunatic. He opened the doors and I raced off the bus. The doors slammed shut and took off down the road.
As I watched the bus, I heard a distant boom, and the bus began to swerve.

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