Page 6 of Dark Rapture
“Jake’s going home. He got all pale and dizzy suddenly, says he feels sick,” Josh shrugs, like he doesn’t care either way.
I glance down at my plate as my parents say goodbye to my uncle, and he promptly exits the house. My hand falls to my lap, and I clutch at the bump where my spell bag sits within the denim pocket. I squeeze my eyes shut and say a quiet thank you in my head, before we all settle back in to finish dinner.
***
“Thank you for coming, sweetheart,” Dad says as I give him another hug.
“Happy birthday, Dad,” I say for the second time, genuine love for my father evident in my voice.
Mom embraces me and gives me a gentle squeeze, “Please text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe.”
I hug her back, “Of course, Mom. Thanks for dinner, it was amazing as usual.”
“Love you,” my parents say in unison as I head back down their driveway and turn down the street in the direction of the bus stop. “Love you too!” I call back with a wave.
The bus ride home is quiet, and unusually empty for this time of day, except for one guy wearing black pants and a matching hoodie sitting behind me somewhere at the back.
I looked at him briefly when I first got on the bus, only to be met with his blank stare. Knowing that it’s never a good idea to stare at strangers on the bus, I quickly looked away and took one of the seats somewhere between the middle and the front. I tried not to pay him any attention, just in case he turned out to be a creep.
Sitting farther towards the front of the bus doesn’t make me feel any better, however. The longer I sit in my seat, the more on edge I begin to feel. The energy in here just feels wrong, like something foul is hiding somewhere in here, making the atmosphere dense and unpleasant.
I’m trying my best to convince myself that I’m just overreacting. The guy is probably totally innocent, and it’s getting late in the evening so I’m just feeling unsettled after my run in with my uncle.
With a deep sigh, I pull out my phone so that I can scan through a couple of previously ignored text messages from my friends. Arianna wants to meet for lunch next week, so I shoot off a message letting her know my schedule. I’m working full time at a local used book store, and my hours tend to be pretty stable, which helps when making plans ahead of time.
Despite spending about five minutes engaged in texting my friends, I can’t seem to shake the unnerving feeling that has taken up residence here on the bus. I feel compelled to look behind me, the feeling so intense that my skin crawls.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I shift my body and make it seem as though I am simply repositioning myself to get more comfortable. Turning my head, I glance behind me to check on the stranger riding the bus with me.
He’s moved three rows of seats closer to me. I’m sure of it. There are only two rows separating us now.
My skin is suddenly covered in goosebumps as my stomach tenses, a feeling of dread washing over me. I really don’t like how close he’s gotten. What reason could he possibly have for crowding me on an otherwise empty bus?
Not to mention, he’s staring at me with an empty look on his expressionless face. Before I can think to control my own expression, my gaze narrows suspiciously at him. Why is he staring at me like that? How can one man’s eyes feel so intense and yet oddly empty at the same time?
“I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?” I ask him boldly, forcing my voice to carry some semblance of confidence despite feeling so apprehensive. I can only assume we’ve met before considering how peculiar he is acting right now. It’s not normal to watch someone as closely as he is watching me unless you know the person.
The stranger doesn’t answer me. In fact, he doesn’t respond like his brain has processed the interaction whatsoever. He’s like a statue locked in place, his eyes affixed directly on mine, his facial features seemingly frozen in time.
“Hello?” I call out a little louder, but still he doesn’t answer me. We hit a rough patch on the road that causes his body to bounce slightly, and I watch him for a moment as he sways with the movement of the bus.
It really bothers me that I’ve addressed this man twice and he hasn’t reacted to me at all. Maybe he has some sort of condition, or is deaf and unwilling to engage with a stranger on the bus. I want to believe either of those things, but even if that were the case it is completely unnatural to sit there like a statue and stare at a stranger endlessly.
Giving up on my hopes of getting any sort of response out of him, I turn away. It feels a lot like turning my back on a dangerous predator, but what else am I supposed to do at this point? I focus my attention out the window, watching the dark city as it passes me by. I contemplate all the benign reasons someone would act the way this man is behaving, hoping one of them is the truth.
No matter how hard I try to comfort myself with positive thinking, I cannot shake the uneasy tension between us. The immense relief I feel when I see that we are approaching my stop is enough to make me giddy. I quickly reach up to tug on the cable that alerts the driver to my upcoming stop.
As the bus driver pulls up along the curb, I stand up and grab my bag, turning to glance at the man one more time. He hasn’t moved this time, but he is still watching me. Nothing about him has changed, he still wears the same hyper-focused expression on his otherwise ordinary face.
I force myself to look away, crossing the narrow aisle towards the door and stepping down and out onto the sidewalk.
When I turn to glance back at the bus, I startle so badly that I stumble backwards. There he is, sitting at the window seat closest to me, which is the exact opposite side of where he was just sitting when I got off.
He is still staring. His eyes are wide, empty and fixated on me. The rest of his face is lax, expressionless. He reminds me of a mannequin, and it makes me so uncomfortable to just stand here and watch him.
There is something seriously wrong with this man. Normal people just do not behave like this.
My autonomic nervous system blares a warning alarm, and my heart begins to pound within the cage of my chest. I hold his stare as the bus pulls away from the curb and carries on its way. The man’s eyes follow me unapologetically, and I am suddenly struck with a surge of anger.
