when we were young, many of us took the school bus to school. i was gazing out of the wondow of the 147...and my gaze met the sight of a school bus. in it was a lone young boy in his primary school uniform, gazing out of his schoolbus window too. he was the only one left. which started me wondering, how does the last kid left on the bus feel everyday? after the second last kid has left? after the games have ended? after the last sandwich has been shared? after the laughter and chatter have ceased? how does it feel to go through that everyday? and how was it the first time?

then it got me thinking even further. and my thoughts drifted to a time when i was eight and had just moved house. moving house meant i had to change school bus. on the first day of taking the new bus to school, i was scared. it meant i had to start all over again. the whole schoolbus thing. the people. the school bus etiquette. as predicted, i got on the bus in the morning and was greeted by strangers. everyone was sleeping, since it was still so early in the morning. i took my seat and stared out of the window all the way to school. and i survived. it wasn't that bad.

when school ended that day, i had to take the same bus home. i walked to where all the buses were. and i couldn't find the right bus. they all looked the same. unlike my previous school bus which was so easy to spot. so when i finally found the bus that looked like the one i was supposed to get on,i got on. the moment i got on, i had a strange feeling. the faces looked so foreign. i dismissed that as me being not observant enough in the morning to bother putting into memory anyone's face. the other girls started getting on. they didn't recognise me. neither could i recognise them. then the bus driver got on. he couldn't recognise me. and i couldn't recognise him. he spoke to me. i forgot what he said. but i just sat still and kept quiet. i don't know why it never occured to me to ask him where he was going. or why i didn't call home to find out what the bus license plate number was. i just sat silently and looked out of the window. he drove to foreign places, neighbourhoods i'd never seen before. all along, i just kept silent. i always gave everything the benefit of the doubt. but in my mind, i knew something was wrong.

it was getting late, and there was still no sign of home. the second last kid was going to be dropped off and i was gonna be the last girl left. my heart was thumping, but still i said nought. i never spoke much then. was too scared. too timid. too shy. the whole speaking thing was too unnerving. and it just seemed better to stay quiet and not be noticed.

before dropping the last girl off, he gave me 10 cents to go make a call at a public phone booth in a deserted park in a strange housing estate. i obeyed. i got down and walked to the phone booth. and he drove away! i put the coin in and dialled the familiar 7-digit number. the moment i heard my mom's voice, i cried with relief. all the panic and fear in me suddenly seemed to explode from within, after being suppressed for so long.

how was i ever gonna get back? i had no idea where i was. the bus driver had driven away. when my mom asked me where i was, all i could do was say, "i don't know!" and cry even more. just when i thought all hope was lost, the bus returned, empty. the bus driver got off and took the phone from me and exchanged a few words with my mom. then, he told me to get on. and of course, i obeyed. i always obeyed strangers because i was too scared to protest. so anyway, i got on.

this time, i was the last girl left on the bus. it felt strange. i missed the old school bus so much. i didn't know where the driver was taking me. and i just sat silently. after a long while, the bus finally pulled up at my doorstep. and boy was i relieved. can't describe it. so yes, i had taken the wrong bus. my mom eventually had me change school bus the next day. and i had to go through the same whole school bus initiation thing again. but this time, i didn't take the wrong bus home.

the year after, the same thing happened again. when i took my first public bus. that was quite funny. but that's a whole other story. another long story on its own. i'll spare you. haha

so maybe i should write a book then. "the last girl left on the school bus" or "taking the wrong bus" or something. it's the realisation that hits you like a brick when you know you're lost. and when you can't ask anyone for help simply cause you were too afraid they'd hear your voice. that's when the utter sense of hopelessness hits you. things have changed i guess. though talking to strangers might still unnerve me at times, it's not such a bad thing anymore. it's experiences like the one above that have thought me that when all hope is lost and when you can't find your way, never doubt the power of a stranger's kindness. i might talk about that in another entry.

song : Some Voices by Pinback
(pretty groovy)