Falling asleep on the bus, a man finds himself stranded in Forks for the weekend. Poor guy.
1. Chapter 1
Rating 5/5 Word Count 621 Review this Chapter
Sing now, Seraph, find the calm within your soul.
Bring us closer to the flame that guides us home.
Hey, buddy! Wake up! End of the line!"
I mumbled something unintelligible, and turned over in the seat. A rough shaking on my shoulder roused me. "What?!" I asked, crankily, opening my eyes and squinting against the harsh light.
"End of the line, Pal!" The bus driver repeated. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Are we in Seattle already?" I asked, stretching.
The driver scoffed. "Seattle?!? HA! We left there over an hour ago! We’re in Forks, now...end of the line! Come on, get up! I got a schedule to keep, ya know!"
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered as I reached for my bag and stood. I shuffled to the front of the now empty bus. As my feet hit the pavement, I turned. The driver’s words had finally penetrated my foggy brain. "Forks?! Where the heck is that?" But the driver had already shut the door. The bus lurched out into the street as I hollered, "Hey! WAIT!!"
As the bus disappeared from sight, I sighed and turned to enter the bus depot of "Forks", wherever that was. I wasn’t sure what state I was in. I didn’t even remember Seattle. In fact, the last town I remembered the bus passing through was Missoula, Montana! Well, I told myself, that’s what happens when you’re a wake for two weeks straight! I reached out to open the door. It was locked.
"Perfect!" I shook the door to no avail. Setting my bag down, I cupped my hands around my eyes, and peered through the door. No one was around, and it was totally dark inside the tiny building. I stepped back and looked at the door. Printed in big, white letters, it said, "FORKS, WA. BUS DEPOT". "Depot". Yeah, right. Then I frowned as I continued reading. "Hours: Monday—Friday, 6AM—9PM." I glanced at my watch—11:30. Great. Then, I realized that it was Friday night, which meant I had to spend the weekend here. Better and better. Sighing yet again, I picked up my bag and turned. Time to find a motel.
I had taken no more than five steps, and the rain started. I looked up. "You have got to be kidding me!" I yelled. Lowering my head, I laughed softly. "This is so cliché." Tucking the collar of my jacket a little closer around my neck, I resumed walking.
After another few steps, I stopped again. Ever have a feeling that you’re being watched when you think you’re alone? Well, I had it big time right then. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. A small, slender figure was standing at the rear corner of the bus "depot". But instantly—and I mean instantly—it vanished. It was too dark to figure out its age or gender, but for some odd reason, it really unsettled me.
I continued my walk out of the parking lot, and quickly found myself on the main street of town. Buildings and store lined both sides of the street, but they all looked dark. I noticed a police station down the street a little way, and headed for it.
Outside the door, I hesitated. A stranger in a small town walking into a police station late at night might raise a few eyebrows. In fact, it sounded like the opening of a joke—"Hey! Have you heard the one about the guy who walked into the place station in the middle of the night?" I grimaced. Still, I figured it was better than a stranger wandering aimlessly around a small town late at night in the pouring rain.
At least it’s open, I thought, as I entered the building.