I honestly have a few of the stories I remember in a lot of detail, but only one always gets my blood pumping when I think of it. My person favorite, the bus with no breaks.
Reading about him as a little kid, nothing more than a child, at the front of the bus. You can just see the grin and slight smugness in being in an important role, the pride he felt.
The rush of adrenaline when they went through the red light.
The look of horror when he realized.
Realized they had no control of the speed, when they had to try to stay calm when the red lights were up ahead, when traffic was so close to them but they couldn’t stop.
Tried not to freak the passengers out with the fact.
The joy, pride, exasperation, the relief after they managed to stop at their destination, when they had just gone on a – literal – ride of their life.
And the guilt, the heartbreak and the shame after yelling, for everyone to hear, what had happened. The breaks being out, the loss of control, barely being able to get it there in one piece, without being hit.
You could feel how shattered he felt, because we’ve all had that one moment in time where we’ve said something and immediately regretted it.
Even with some of the passengers thanking the driver and just being so glad they had made it out alive, out of that bus and on to the safe, safe ground. You could still see the boy, even if it was just in your head, standing there. Holding back every emotion he had just felt on the ride. Trying, so hard, not to break in front of everyone.
The story was a true rush of emotions, the pace of your heart, one moment it’s normal and then suddenly it’s beating so hard you can feel it against your rib cage. Your breath catching in your throat because you’re so afraid if you let it out, it might be your last.
I think one of the reasons this story caught my attention and has stayed with me the most out of all of the others may be my fear of the road, with all the bad drivers I’ve seen and nearly being run off the road on numerous occasions, reading this story already had a way to get my blood pumping, my heart racing and the fear building.
But, if it weren’t for him putting in so much effort and detail, for him remembering what it was like and trying his hardest to make us feel and experience what he had gone through, the mental picture of the bus slowly going through the red light after a failed attempt at stopping, the sound of the horns honking ever so slightly muffled and the sound of the wind, pushing against the bus.
The feeling of being there. In those seats, just hoping that they won’t get hit, that they won’t hit someone else, that they’ll make it.
If he hadn’t put all of that in there, I don’t think the story would have felt as real as it did.