the last bus i ride before i go

During my last year of high school, around late October, my Modern Literature teacher egged on me to enter a writing contest. I ended up writing four short stories but two were turned into poems, while the last two never saw the light of day. This is one of the stories I never thought I'd have to read again until I saw it in my little folder. It's nothing special and it's not my best work, but I thought it encompassed the feeling of being a stranger to yourself very well. So, here's an unedited piece of an existential crisis :D