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When I Wished I Was Dreaming
We were on our way to Toronto when the bus crashed. It wasn't actually my bus; there were two busses. The first one crashed.
I was tying the friendship bracelet onto my friend's wrist when the bus stopped. It slowed down fast. Too fast to be traffic. I was sitting in the front, so I looked out the front window. I don't remember exact details, but the other bus hit the guard rail and spun. It spun once, or maybe twice, but it was on two wheels. I remember that. Apparently the bus hit a pothole and the tire popped. It took five minutes for them to come out. It might have been shorter, it might have been longer, but I think it was around five minutes. I could imagine my friends. All on that bus. Spinning violently, hitting their heads, and then- nothing. All dead. During those five minutes fluid crept out of their bus towards ours. Gas. We could smell it. One spark and they would really be dead. Rumors were that we'd be dead too.
But they came off. No one was hurt except a teacher, who hurt her teeth. Some people were laughing at their luck as they piled onto our bus, some crying hysterically. I remember my friend Alfonso repeating over and over, "This is messed up. This is messed up." A retired fireman named Paul pulled up beside us and helped until Canadian authorities came. They cleaned up the fluid and moved on. The teacher whose teeth were hurt went to the hospital. When we drove past, I saw that some glass was cracked to the point of shattering. We called our parents. We were even on American news, I heard.
On the way back to Ohio, we saw a semi that had crashed. I thanked God that it wasn't us. The trip went on like normal. Like it never happened. Mr. Meyer had been standing and flew into the front of the bus. He used it to explain physics, how he kept traveling the same speed. Students were saying that they could have gone in the river. The guard rail saved them.
I never tied the friendship bracelet to my friend's wrist. Whenever I think about it, I see the other bus turning, twisting violently. So violently they crash through, over the guard rail. the people already dead inside.
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I wrote this five days after the bus crashed, and I thank God constantly that nobody died, and only one person got hurt. I know that it's unlikely anybody would die, but that is the curse of a sick imagination.