A Headline You Don’t Want

Picture it, if you will….

You wake up to the sound of a man shouting and soon realize you’re slumped across the hard, cold seats of a bus. As you groggily lift your eyelids apart, it all comes back.

You’re on the bus you take home every day, but the driver is calling at you to get up. You remember how you, in your new role as assistant manager, got stuck at work for hours after closing tonight.

There was so much to catch up on — so much your predecessor left undone — that it piled up on the end of the week like a hill of rubble.

You had spent years working toward this promotion, how you possibly complain about the workload now?

So you stayed, time ticking away like sand between your fingers.

When you finally could board your bus, every passenger is unfamiliar to you — and the driver is too. You must’ve been so exhausted that you fell asleep en route. You have no memory after sitting down.

Now, you shift yourself up and look around. Wait… no one else is on board. As you put down your feet to stand, you see only fog-covered trees outside.

“Come on,” the driver repeats. “Get up, get up!”

“W-where are we?” you ask.

“End of the line,” he says.

“WHAT?!” you jump up, suddenly wide awake. Your eyes dart around to every window, failing to resonate with your surroundings. “No, no. I need to be… at Silver Lake Avenue.” The driver just looks at you silently. “In Collinville. I always get off at Silver Lake.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know your stop. And this is the end of the line. We’re outside of Fernwood.”

“No! No, no, no. You’re going back, right? Just take me with you.”

“I’m going back by way of 57. And I couldn’t take you with me if I wanted to. No passengers.”

“But… ok, well when is the next bus coming?” The driver looks down with a heavy sadness.

“I’m so sorry. There is no other bus. This was the last route of the night.”

“No! No, it can’t be. Please… please… you have to do something. Can you call someone at the hub?”

“At the hub? No, there’s no one… I… well, they couldn’t do anything anyway.”

“But… but surely…”

“Look, do you have cellphone battery?” You clumsily reach into your pocket and pull out your device.

“Yeah… 60%.”

“Then you need to get off. Now.”

You walk along the dreary street, residential lights gleaming in the distance. You tried to call your brother, Todd, and your roommate. You called multiple times over, but there was neither one answered.

The reception is spotty anyway and your map program won’t load.

You have no idea how to get back to a familiar place. You just have to press on blindly.

After half an hour, you’re among rows of dark houses and hopeless fear is setting in. How long are you supposed to keep going?

You rack your brain, demanding how in God’s name you ended up here. Wherever “here” is.

As the time goes on, you curse every step. This isn’t right! Every cell in your body is screaming. You just want to be home. You should be home.

The unforgiving suburban landscape offers no respite. You’re surrounded by homes, but might as well be in the middle of the desert. The road ahead stretches into oblivion, literally with no end in sight.

The sound of crickets carries on like a dull roar in the otherwise dead night.

After what feels like eternity, you come across a ranch-style house with lights on inside. Finally! You run past the gaudy parrot-shaped mailbox, up the modest driveway, and knock on the pale blue door.

No answer. You knock again, louder this time in case they didn’t hear you. The slightest inkling of motion flickers through the window and the lights very slowly dim.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you call out. “This’ll just take a moment of your time, I promise.” Silence. “Please! Please, I need help.” Again, nothing. “I’m lost, ok? Please… I’m lost and I need help! Someone, please…. Please help me!”

You turn away, dejected. You grumble angrily, wondering how people could be so cold-hearted. Now you’re back on the sidewalk. The never-ending sidewalk.

I probably wouldn’t have answered the door either, you think to yourself.

After another bleak eternity, the houses give way to a large park on your side of the street. At least the tall grass and trees provide a change of scenery.

As the nature keeps stretching out before you, however, there’s a new unsettling realization. Even across the blacktop, civilization has become vacant dirt and gravel lots. What if every step is now leading you further away from your destination?

The wind catches in your throat. It’s a notion too heavy to bear.

You force some deep breaths and step off the sidewalk onto the grass. Keep it together, you tell yourself.

You wander further into the woods to think. You’re so weak and tired you want to scream.

A moment later… BAM! Something hits the back of your head with startling force. The overwhelming shock brings you straight to the ground.

You can’t tell if it was something or someone who hit you, and you don’t have time to think about it as you slide down a slope into a bed of leaves.

Just like on the bus seats, your consciousness is blown out like a candle.

Still without awareness of your surroundings two days later, you don’t know your brother has arranged a search party.

Todd directs the volunteers and helps coordinate the grid pattern they follow. He has spent all day and night putting up missing posters for you. The police have put out bulletins and now even the local media has become involved.

If only you knew your name was being recorded onto news footage and printed in multiple papers.

A television reporter catches up with the search party to document their efforts. On her insistence, Todd gives a statement for the camera.

Tears form in his eyes as he tells the world his sincere hope that they will somehow, somewhere, find you alive.