School Bus

“Melissa! Melissa! Hey, whore!”

And it starts. I loathe that girl, the one who sits at the back of the bus with the bad boys and shouts out the window. I slouch a little further down in my seat and put on my headphones. I hate the bus. Or rather, the people on it. Someone sits next to me, but I don’t even bother to look. Drums and guitars pulsate in my ears, but I can still hear the ugliness that spews forth from the girl’s facial orifice.

“Dirty skank! Get that dick out of your fucking mouth!” Chortles arise from her so-called “friends.” I turn my music up a little, as the bus rumbles and then starts up, rolling forward and an increasing but sluggish pace.

What would I do if I were as cool as you?
Would I taunt and I tease the way that you do?

There’s one kid on the bus that they especially like to pick on. I don’t know him, but I wish I did. Just so I could tell him it was all right. The verbal vomit that heaves from their ignorant bellies just proves how stupid they are. They’re not secure with themselves, and that’s why they blame you.

“Spaghetti head!” He gets laughter as a response. “Flamer!”

“Why don’t you shut up and leave him alone?” Someone towards the front of the bus calls out.

“Why don’t you suck dick?” The back of the bus responds. I make my music louder.

What would you be if you were a loser like me?
What would you see, what would you see?

Suck dick. That’s a good one. And while you’re at it, go eat poop too. Where do they come up with these responses? And do they really believe that it makes them sound like big, tough people?

If I were like you: so mighty, so high…
Would I be so blind? So cruel and unkind?

The bus stops. She gets off, and thank goodness. But he’s still back there. Him, the king of them all. The one I want to royally slap in the face. He is the loudest and most obnoxious. He’s the kind of kid who would enjoy being suspended for getting into a fight, or would mouth off to a teacher, or take pride in a failing grade. He is my reason for hate. And lord knows… I don’t hate. The music gets a little louder. I have to drown out the world. The ignorance and the abhorrence, they fly away with bass lines and percussion beats.

If you were like me, with your soul like a weight…
Would you see how it is, or still fill with hate?

Soon, but not soon enough is my stop. I’ll get off this God-forsaken bus, and I’ll go home. I’ll sit in the dark, and curse myself. Curse myself for not doing anything, when I could have. I’ll call my friends, and tell them about my bus ride home.

“Yeah, what an asshole.”

© Arwen M. Guerra