When I was five years old, I became scared of my bus driver. It may have been my parents constantly telling me to never get into a vehicle with a stranger, but it may have been that they cried and didn’t want me to get on. Even now I hesitate before I climb aboard.
We leave from school in a different way than usual. We ride around for an extra five minutes, riding through a small forest. Our driver stops and drops a student off at the edge of a narrow dirt path. The next day we repeat the schedule, I arrive on the bus and sit smack dab in the middle, as she takes off again I notice we drive a little farther past the forest, where the high cornfields are growing on both sides of the road. We drive for around thirteen minutes, when the same kid climbs off of the bus to disappear into the corn. I find it slightly odd, but dismiss it. All week we continued to drive a little further out until I was over thirty minutes late coming home.
I notice that something looks off about the bus when I fall back into my seat on Monday morning. I don’t care about anything though, but the time I could hear my parents! At first there was discussion about the money. I heard the distinct voice of my mother, “Please, please give us just two more days! The money is on the way! Please!”
Weeks passed and a lot of the kids had been bought back by their parents, no one showed up to help us though. Throughout the process seven people were left, only one person other than me could not be afforded. The other five had their dates set, and I desperately hoped that none of them held our fate, too.
I saw the bus driver again her eye was swollen shut. She scowled and got directly in front of my face, “You want to go home?” She asked in a mockingly sweet voice. “You some ‘good little girl,’ huh, well answer me!” She screeched at me.
I sat quietly, watching her before I answered, with some resentment, “I don’t need to answer to you.”
She sat somewhat stunned, she had obviously not expected that type of response from me but she replied, “You have just made a fatal enemy, little girl.”
I stood up to my full height, being somewhat shaky I stumbled, and was surprised when my voice rang out clear and unwavering, “This isn’t going to last, and you know it.”
“You are going to sit back down and stay here until some of my boys come to take you on the bus to a secret location, so that we can properly dispose of you.”
“That’s what you think.” I mumbled, sitting down. She had just told me that the bus still ran. Through all of the chaos not one of us had thought of the bus working. The keys were constantly being left in the ignition.
One week passed by and all but two kids remained, other than myself. The last person remaining was a girl I remember seeing her around school. Her ransom date was set for tonight, her parents were either full of despair, from not having enough money, or anticipation, for seeing their daughter back. She came back bawling, she hadn’t been afforded, and that was obvious. Not only that but the bus driver’s car had broken down, so she had to walk miles knowing that she walking next to the one person who would end her existence.
That night, when I was sure she wasn’t coming back out of her tent I stood up and walked back to the others, nervous enthusiasm bubbling up. I whispered out my plan of action, it was simple. But a lot could still go wrong. They followed me to the front of the bus. We checked all of the other windows and doors then came back to block the front door. Then we piled book bag after abandoned book bag in front of the door, finally when they were done piling them we sat, and it was my turn to finish. I held my hand over the keys, this had to be done fast, or else we would get caught and disposed of. There was nothing to lose so I cranked the key and heard the engine rumble to life. Then we drove off into the forest, angry shouts rising up behind us. A few miles down the road we were still laughing, we were relieved.
An hour and a half later, we ran into a small town. We unloaded all of the book bags and ran inside to be greeted by a large stuffy looking man, he greeted us with a grunt and immediately we started trying to relay what happened. It ended up being a jumbled bunch of noises.
“Wait! Slow down, now you tell me. What happened?” He said, pointing at me, obviously he was annoyed and didn’t mind showing it.
Before I could speak a young bright looking girl came in through the front door. She glanced at us and her jaw dropped. “You’re those missin’ kids aren’t you?” she asked with a pronounced country accent.
We stared at her surprised. She immediately went over to a television set up in a corner. She turned it to channel 10. An anchorwoman popped up on the screen I watched dumfounded as an ugly and awkward class picture of me came up next to the others.
“All but three students have been recovered from the bus kidnapping. The bus driver, a Miss Ivy Dunnigan has climbed up to claim a spot in Americas Most Wanted. No further information has been given about the kids.” She announced, “Now here is an interview from the parents of the missing.”
The camera flickered onto a man standing next to a sick looking bunch of people. After a couple of seconds he bobs his head and turns to ask the group a question. I see my own parents, they were unrecognizable. I was so shocked I didn’t even hear what they were saying.
I looked around, needing to see them, needing to know that they were real. I saw the girl at a phone nodding while she talked. I looked back to the others and the world blurred, I saw that they were still transfixed on the television. I couldn’t stand sitting here, doing nothing. What if she was on her way right now? What if’s clouded my mind, until I couldn’t hold still. I burst through the doors and into an oddly silent world. That’s when I fainted.
Hours later I awoke to the sounds of beeping, a steady beep. But I kept my eyes shut, remembering. I remembered every detail as clearly as if were happening now.
A woman’s voice rang out and filled the room. ”She’s awake,” she told an unidentified person. “Can you please open your eyes for me?” I did. “Now sweetie you were pretty banged up when they brought you here. Little food or water for over a week, We barely got there in time, but you’re alright now.”
I looked around, and my parents were sitting by my bed, looking relieved. I smiled and hugged them both tight. I did get to see them. I tried to speak but my voice failed me.
We all made it out in a week. The bus driver was arrested before we came out. I continued to see the others we walk to school together every day. On our first day walking back I realize something.
“You know I didn’t ever know what the bus drivers name was until it came up in the news.”
“You know me either, now that I think about it,” the girl replied.
The boy thought until we got to the school. When he finally said, “You know they never did say the caught her ‘boys.’”
The bell rang and I ran to class to find a substitute, and on the board behind him was written ‘Mr. Dunnigan.’ He was one of her ‘boys.’ Little did I know that this was far from over, it had only just begun.