Number 29 Bus

It was a cool October afternoon, and classes were done for the day. I waited for the number 29 bus State to Navy Pier. An evening at Navy Pier would clear my mind from the stressful day. I meet the 29 Bus right at the stop on Balbo and boarded. The bus was pretty crowded for being an afternoon. I stood next to the doors in the back. I quickly scanned the bus, and my eyes feel on a particular character. The figure was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt with their head held down. The person didn't seem to be napping but in deep thought. I found this person interesting because surrounding noise did not seem to bother them. I tried not stare, but I couldn't help but to look. Every so often I could feel this person was looking at me.

Every Friday when I took the 29 bus ride to Navy Pier there was the same person, sitting in the exact seat. The noise never seemed to bother them. Again we would play eye tag.

This one particular day a seat was clear and it was across from the girl. As I sat my eyes couldn't help but wonder. I now had a closer look at this person it was a girl. She had to be no older than me. She looked new to the city.I figured maybe she was a student at Columbia who had a weekly ritual at Navy Pier or somewhere near. I thought if I got a good look maybe I would be able to recognize her.

This time when I looked at her she stared me back in the face. The look she gave could have stopped my heart. Yet I was hypnotised and couldn't stop staring. There was something mysterious about this girl. She wanted me to find out. Her eyes were stone gray but there was sadness to them. Her eyes were telling me her story. Her story was dark and very haunting. she had experienced many tragedies in her short eighteen years. Those eyes told me she witnessed abuse, assault, and substance abuse. Those eyes also told me about her fear, the fear she had so many years. I could see she had suffered enough. She had told me her story without words.

After my trip to Navy Pier I couldnt stop thinking about those eyes. How chilling they were,but yet gentle and child like. I needed to see this girl again and look in her eyes once again. Friday had come along and I boarded the 29 bus to Navy Pier. I scanned the bus again and looked for her, but she was not on the bus. I found it strange because she was always on the bus. I asked the bus driver if a girl who always wore a blue sweatshirt rode the bus today. The bus driver looked at me like I was crazy. As if he knew who boarded his bus expectly one that was always so crowded.

We passed every bus stop but she never boarded. My day was occupied with her where abouts. I grew concerned about this girl who's name I didn't know, but I felt I had known from the time on the bus. Just as I was getting to understand her, and learning her story she disappered.

A new Friday had come around, but he weather felt strange. I boarded the 29bus to Navy pier and this day the bus was not crowded. I sat in a seat and looked up , and siting across from me was the girl. She had her usual attire the dark sweatshirt with her head held down. This time she had not acknowledge me by looking at me, but she continued to stare blankly at the floor. I was hoping she would give me one glance, but she refused. Her mind didn't seem occupied,but completely blank. Even the little bit of her face I could see looked very blank.

A seat became available next to her. I took the liberty to move next to her. As I sat next to her , her body language did not change. I felt it was time for me to speak to this girl I grown to know, but didn't know a name. As I was getting ready to introduce myself I happened to look down in her direction what I noticed made my heart stop beating. The girls sweater was bleeding from the sleeves. I became hysterical, but she just sat calm and no one around us seemed concerned. This poor girl was possibly bleeding to death. I ran to the bus driver and tried to get his attention, but the bus driver was in his own world just like everyone else on the bus. I sat back next to her conforting her. She never spoke, cried or looked me in the face. She just continued to bleed. I spent the rest of bus ride 29 with the girl who had no name, but knew me and I knew her.