What's The Worst... Chapter 09

Trisha hadn’t really taken much notice of the little old lady coming up the stairs; she hadn’t really noticed her pause and then choose to sit a little further back in the bus, but she couldn’t really help but notice when the little old lady started to stare fixedly at Clare.

She tried to ignore it and concentrate on what Clare was saying but then the little old lady shuddered and fell back in her seat. Trisha couldn’t ignore that.

She stood and moved as swiftly as the swaying bus would allow toward the woman. At first glance she was an archetypal wizened old witch of a woman, but a closer inspection would show a face aged some degree beyond its years; it would show eyes that were wary, but still held a spark of past youth had they not been closed.

Clare had followed Trisha and now moved past her and sat next to the woman. Picking up one of the small, aged hands, Clare gently tapped the back of it, “Excuse me, hello, are you okay?”, she changed her grip, feeling for a pulse.

Clare looked up at Trisha, “We need to call somebody; I can’t find a pulse... oh wait... no... there it is, it’s just real weak...”

Clare squealed as the previously limp hand gripped her wrist tightly.

Dorothy’s eyes fluttered open. She saw Trisha first, and then scanned across to Clare. It was strange, but Trisha thought she could see what looked like apprehension in those eyes, followed by the slightest hint of relief...

“Ladies…”, she inclined her head back toward Trisha although apparently addressing both of them,

“…sorry for your loss…”

Standing, albeit a little shakily, she looked directly at Trisha, “…very sorry indeed.”

Casting her eyes down she shuffled off toward and down the stairwell.

“You can’t say that and leave!”, Clare sound exasperated more than angry, “Whaddya mean?”

But the old lady kept moving without a backward glance. Clare started to move after her,

“No, leave it, she’s just some strange old lady.”

Clare half turned back toward Trisha,

“But people can’t do that…”

Trisha reached out and touched Clare’s shoulder,

“It’s just weird, she probably thinks we’re somebody else, she’s probably confused…”

Trisha sat back down and drew Clare back to her seat.

Trisha suddenly realised that the light inside the bus seemed thinner, less rich and bright, as though somebody had turned down the colour control on the world; it even felt colder. And then it was passed, Trisha could feel the bus moving, hear the engine. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her legs as it streamed through the windows.

Clare looked closely at Trisha’s face for the second time this morning,

“Are you okay, ya look kinda fuzzy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just felt a little, you know, a little, erm…”

“Like somebody jus’ walked over your grave?”

“No!!… well maybe a little…”

The two girls paused, looked at each other, and started to laugh. Unsurprisingly, Clare spoke first,

“Well yep, that was strange.”

Trisha nodded, and Clare launched into another hugely one-sided conversation.