November 13, 2008
By Shakia Robinson, North Wales, PA

Walking to the bus the cold takes me by surprise sending Goosebumps through my body and a killing chill that forces me to shake. I hated school field trips. I had no friends and I was always stuck with someone who I never ever talked to, to be my “buddy”. The bus was warm and before I picked a seat I stood and observed all the danger zones.. All the so called cool kids sat in the very back gossiping about all the school smuts and talked loudly so everyone could hear.
In the very front of the bus is where the nerds sat. Right next to or even behind the teachers so they could suck up to them the whole entire bus ride. No realizing I was holding up all the kids behind me the bus driver snaps “Hurry up and pick a seat! We’re already behind schedule.” He was old and fat. His winter coat wasn’t big enough to hold his gut in and it spilled into his slap, just barely touching the steering wheel. His fingers were swollen and fat like sausage links and a ring on his right hand was being smothered by his overlapping skin. The face on him was huge. It was a dark red and he had a mole on his chin that looked like it was on the verge of falling off.
He shouted at me again and I could smell the stench of bologna on his breath. I walked to the middle of the bus and grabbed a seat. I tried to avoid being noticed so I slouched in the seat and got as close as possible to the window. I put on my headphones and just imagined I was somewhere else, far, far away. Maybe as far away as Mexico where my dad lived, where the sun is always beautiful, I’d rather be there instead of being stuck in America where I didn’t belong nor fit in.
I’ll never forget that dreadful night I was sound asleep with my two little sisters at my side. The night had been beautiful as a cool breeze blew in from the window and tickled our bodies. All of the sudden my father came crashing into the room screaming and yelling, “Ay Casimira! Grab your things and come with me.” My little sisters stare in panic and don’t know what to do. Neither do I. He tells me to run and get in the car. I do so, scared out of my mind and the only thing I could think of was that a murderer was on the loose. I sprinted outside and a orange glow in the distance caught my eye. About 2 miles down I could see houses on fire and I could hear gunshots. I stood in the driveway. Frozen. My dad came outside yelling, “Get in!” He tossed my little sisters in the back eat and ordered them to put on their seatbelts. My father wildly exited the driveway ad started going 80 miles per hour heading north. The car was silent except for racing of our beating hurts and the sounds of capture back down the road. My dad spoke first, “Casimira, the president is ordering that all girls be sent into enslavement at his palace. He sent the army down to collect you all and now there out here raiding the streets. You and your sister are going to America, tonight. It’s the only way I can ensure your safety. My body jolted against the door as ma Dad made a sharp right turn onto a lonely dirt road. The road led up to soft beach and I could see people boarding tiny rowboats. My father was shipping us away. As we ran up to the beach the sand crushed in between my toes and tears began to leak through my eyes. When we reached the boat my dad hugged and kissed all of us. Before he let go he said “I will come for you. I promise.” He let us go. My sisters and I go on the boat and started drifting away. I stared at him until I couldn’t see him any longer and the beaches shore appeared to be black. That was the last time I saw my father, two yeas ago.
The bus began to move and I opened my eyes to see all the kids riled up in excitement, they shut again and I was back in Mexico. We were driving for about 45 minutes and I looked out the window to see where we were and a sign said “Brooklyn bride ahead” so I figured we were pretty close to the Brooklyn museum. I looked back at the cool kids to see what they were doing and connected eyes with one of them. I quickly turned back around in fear that he would say something harsh to me. Just before we got on the bridge I felt something hit me in the back of the head. It didn’t hurt at all so I brushed it off and prayed that it was an accident. A couple minutes later it happened again and this time I got a little irritated, I turned around and all the idiots in the back of the bus were laughing hysterically, I ignored them and turned my music up even louder. I slouched down. Suddenly, a blue pen cap reaches my seat and lands in my lap.
Now I was angry. I began tapping my fingers on my thigh, trying to contain my anger. I started counting to ten in my head to settle myself down, but when I got to seven I could hear them laughing over my music. I lost it. I ripped my headphones out and stood up. I rushed to the back and yelled “Who the f*** is throwing s*** at me!” They just laughed at my anger and pissed me off even more. I could feel my face turning red and my hands clutched into a fists. I swung as hard as I could at the nearest kid. Before the blow could land my body shifted abruptly into the left aisle and I fell into someone. My head hit the window leaving it cracked and blood trickled down my face. The bus filled with screams as we slowly began to push against the rail of the bridge. I looked to the front of the bus and saw that the bus driver wasn’t there. No one was driving the bus.
The buses capacity stared breaking the rail and we slowing began tipping over the bridge. The back of the bus was heading down first. I tried to get to the front of the bus to exit and hopefully make it to safety but everyone was in my way. Girls were screaming hugging each other for dear life and the teachers who are supposed to be trained to handle these types of situations were freaking out like the rest of us. Before I got to the very front of the bus I had to hurdle over the bus driver’s fat a** who was passed out in the middle of the aisle. I got to the handle that opens the door to the bus and started tugging and pulling trying to figure out how to open it. Time was ticking and the rail was on its last leg. 30 more seconds and we were about to go over. A sudden sense made me look up and right ahead a large MAC truck as coming towards me. Head on. I froze. The trucks approach made the bridge vibrate slightly and made the bus shift a tad bit more over the bridge then were it originally was. The truck was only about 100 yards away going full speed towards me.
Thoughts of my sisters and fathers instantly popped into my head. I blinked and the large truck dived into the front of the bus. The collision tossed me directly into the driver’s seat. The hood of the bus was mangled and the windshields were cracked as if bricks had been thrown at them. The force of the truck had managed to move the bus towards the middle of the bridge away from the railing. We spun in a quarter circle until we reached the median where we halted to a stop. The bus was in screams still. Immediately, after the bus had stopped moving all the people from my school began evacuating out the back emergency door, except for me. I couldn’t move. The pressure from the large truck had managed to squeeze my body in between the steering wheel and the cushion of the driver seat. The wheel was lodged into my chest, crushing my lungs and breaking my tiny ribs. I managed to speak before death could take me though, “ I love you Daddy….”

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