Chapter 4: Waking From the Nightmare?

Finality.

My phone started beeping.

The sound was shrill, insistent. I clapped my hands over my ears.

Too loud.

It felt like the whole bus exploded, the blast roaring through my mind like a tidal wave.

A blinding white light filled my vision. My body jerked, every muscle tensed.

Physicality.

My whole body jolted violently.

I gasped, heart hammering. For a second, I thought I was dead.

"What’s wrong? We’re at the stop. Time to get off."

Autumn’s voice was soft, concerned. I blinked, trying to clear my head.

Disoriented.

I forced my eyes open.

The harsh bus lights came into focus. I was back in my seat, drenched in sweat.

Autumn was looking at me with concern.

She reached out, touching my forehead. Her eyes were wide with worry.

Her concern lingered in the air.

"What’s wrong? You’re sweating buckets. Here, wipe off."

She handed me some tissues.

The paper felt rough against my skin. I wiped my face, trying to steady my breathing.

Was it really over?

I wiped my sweat away mechanically, still a little dazed.

My hands shook. The nightmare clung to me, refusing to let go.

Fake it.

Seeing the worry in her eyes, I managed a weak smile.

I forced my lips into a smile, hoping to reassure her. It didn’t quite reach my eyes.

"It’s nothing. Just had a nightmare."

The words felt flimsy, but it was all I could manage.

Autumn nodded. "If you’re fine, let’s go. The driver’s waiting for us to get off."

Relief.

She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. I could see the relief in her posture.

I looked at the driver. He gave me a simple, honest smile.

Normal.

His eyes were kind, his face relaxed. He looked nothing like the monster from my dream.

He tipped his cap, nodding politely. For a second, I almost laughed at myself.

So it really was just a dream? Maybe I’ve just been too stressed lately.

The city always found new ways to wear you down. Maybe this was just my brain’s way of coping.

With Autumn’s help, I stepped off the bus, my legs shaky.

Free.

The pavement was cold beneath my sneakers. I leaned on her, grateful for her steadying arm.

Just as we were about to leave the station, I suddenly glanced back, as if sensing something.

Not over.

A chill ran down my spine. I turned, heart pounding.

I saw the bus tires were tangled with bits of flesh and two clumps of human hair.

Horror.

The sight made my stomach lurch. For a moment, I wondered if I was still dreaming.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Haunted.

I hugged myself, rubbing my arms. The night air felt colder than before.

Autumn looked even more worried.

She stepped closer, wrapping her arm around my waist. Her eyes searched my face for answers.

Comfort.

"Are you coming down with something? Let’s get home, I’ll make you some ginger tea to warm you up."

Her voice was gentle, soothing. The promise of warmth and comfort was all I wanted.

I nodded vaguely, letting her help me walk forward on unsteady legs.

Home.

My mind spun with questions, but I pushed them aside. All I wanted was to get home.

Suddenly, I saw a familiar face.

He was standing beneath the streetlight, hands in his pockets. The man with glasses.

Him.

That man with glasses!

He looked just as he had on the bus—calm, composed, slightly out of place.

"Wait! Hey, you up ahead, wait!"

I called out, my voice echoing across the empty lot. He stopped, turning slowly.

The man turned around. When he saw it was me, the confusion on his face vanished.

He knew.

Recognition flickered in his eyes. He waited, as if he’d expected me.

He didn’t seem surprised that I’d called out to him.

He smiled, just a little, as if sharing a private joke.

"Can I help you?"

His voice was calm, almost amused. He watched me patiently.

"Would you like to come over to my place?"

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Awkwardness.

I blurted out the invitation without thinking.

I realized how weird it sounded. I barely knew this guy.

Too much.

When I saw him start to frown, I realized I was being a bit abrupt.

He hesitated, glancing at Autumn, then back at me. I cleared my throat, trying to recover.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness hung in the air.

Awkward.

Autumn caught up, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

She looked from me to the man, eyebrows raised.

I smiled awkwardly.

What was I doing?

I rubbed the back of my neck, searching for the right words.

"Just felt like we had a connection. How about we grab a meal together?"

I tried to sound casual, but my voice wavered. The invitation felt important, somehow.

Intuition.

The man with glasses studied me for a moment.

He looked me up and down, weighing his options. The silence stretched.

After a long pause, he finally replied.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly. "All right, if you insist. There’s a diner around the corner—let’s go there."

Autumn still looked uneasy. "But aren’t you feeling sick? Maybe you should just exchange numbers and meet up another time?"

She touched my arm, concern etched on her face. I shook my head, determination settling in.

Resolve.

"No, I’m fine now."

I managed a real smile this time, feeling lighter than I had in hours.

Even though there were no more floating comments, I had a powerful hunch:

It was more than a feeling—it was certainty, deep in my bones. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew.

If I didn’t have this meal with the man in glasses today, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

For the first time all night, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I'd found the way out.