Authonomy – Friday Flash Fiction [FFF]
Post: FFF – February 14, 2014
Theme / Genre: Valentine.
Include: –
Words: 599
Catching the Bus
He’s the reason I ended up here.
My Valentine!
Except I wasn’t his bloody valentine and I had no intention of being his bloody valentine, but, oh no, that wasn’t good enough for him. It wasn’t good enough that I refused his request—gently and sweetly I might add, in the politest way. I shouldn’t have bothered—not plain enough for him to stop asking. He never stopped. It ruined my chances with the one guy I wanted to be my valentine. The untouchable guy, it least I thought untouchable, then it turns out he wasn’t and now I’m here and there is nothing that can be done.
That February afternoon is so clear in my head, but in this place everything is so clear. The snow had been falling most of the day, it was icy, very icy, school was finished and snowball fights were commonplace, I was waiting for the school bus on Cross Street. Warren and Justin were walking towards me along Turner Drive, laughing, as usual. Justin was concentrating on not slipping over and chatting about something, probably the fact that I’d returned his valentine card—he spooked me at times, his obsessive behaviour.
Warren was looking my way, I hide.
If Justin was talking about me, Warren wasn’t listening just staring, occasionally blinking away the falling snowflakes.
Who knows, Warren may have even given me that card he had in his bag, had he reached me.
The snow was falling, people were slipping everywhere and I just stood watching the guy who I wanted to be my Valentine. The dumb arse next to him wanted to be mine and nobody gets what they want.
Out of sight, hiding in the shelter, just visible enough to see Warren—he knew I was there. Justin carried on chatting and slipping.
The weight and depth of snow made the world a silent place, just the soft crunching underfoot, voices muffled, vehicles a distant hum.
That’s the reason I never heard the crunching of snow, I was watching Warren and oblivious to everything. If I had stood in view of everyone, perhaps they would have seen me; a horn would have been blown. I couldn’t face Justin again though, out of sight, out of mind; and that’s why I hate him.
If I had seen Warren’s face again, it would have been covered in shock.
For the bus couldn’t stop, it was out of control, sliding down Cross Street in silence, sliding, towards me. Packed snow helped it onto the sidewalk, a silent killer.
That’s the reason I never heard the crunching of snow, I was watching Warren and oblivious to everything. If I had stood in view of everyone, perhaps they would have seen me; a horn would have been blown. I couldn’t face Justin again though, out of sight, out of mind; and that’s why I hate him.
If I had seen Warren’s face again, it would have been covered in shock.
For the bus couldn’t stop, it was out of control, sliding down Cross Street in silence, sliding, towards me. Packed snow helped it onto the sidewalk, a silent killer.
It hit the timber shelter with me in it, side on, no warning. Smashed me from one end to the other and pinned me against the side of the coffee shop wall, crushing several bones in the process, not to mention internal organs; by the time they could get the bus away, I’d arrived to where I am now. Looking down on the scene. I’ll never forget Warren’s white face, Justin howled, but I didn’t care for him.
That was years ago now, and yet Justin leaves a cheap Valentine’s card on my grave every year, tells everyone about us—there was no us, and never would have been.
To my surprise Warren visits my grave every year too, the day after Valentine’s Day. He tells no-one, but removes Justin’s trash and replaces it with a dozen red roses, then he stands and reads his card that he wrote for me, the one that I never received.
I tell him, at least I try.
Warren, I love you.
But, he never hears me.
