Ticket to the end

I’m in another version of the world I usually live in. It feels like another dimension. Everything is different, the colours, the smells, even the emotions feel altered.

Everyone is walking in the same direction, down a long village road. The village is densely populated and there are brick buildings in every direction. I want to get to the destination first, I need some tickets.

At the desk a man is telling me how much everything will be.

“At the end that will cost 2000.”

I start counting hundred ‘bills’ onto the counter.

“The bus ticket will also cost 2000.”

I know that thousands for a bus ticket would usually be too much but I also know that I’m in a different reality and accept it.

Counting it out I see that I am probably going to be a bit short, I need this trip and there is no other option.

“You need to leave now, the bus is about to leave.” he says.

I start counting quicker.

“You don’t understand you need to leave now! Right this second now! Go!”

I keep a couple of notes and throw the rest across the counter knowing I’ve underpaid and start running.

The bus is leaving and I wave it down, luckily it stops.

The bus is shaped like a normal bus but where the windows should be are 6ft arched windows with no glass. There are no seats and people are standing trying not to fall off the bus.

As we drive we see poor people walking in our direction, these are the people who couldn’t afford the bus.

I find myself jumped off the bus and feel an instant feeling of fear as I realise that I shouldn’t have got off yet.

<em>I don’t even remember getting off, why did I get off??</em>

Continuing to walk in the direction of the bus, I see it is getting further and further away but still in sight.

I see a boy with a push scooter.

“I want to buy your scooter.” I say as I give him the remaining bills in my pocket.

“This is only 400.” he says.

At this point I don’t care and just ride off on the scooter down the road.

Passing the bus, I decide to keep going.

Soon there are no people and no cars. Just me on a sunny suburban street.

I think I’ve gone too far, I should have just followed the bus.

Three men and one boy are all looking in my direction. They are all dressed in black suits, a black hat and black sunglasses. One of the men is standing to the right of the others and is not wearing sunglasses, he seems to struggle to know who to follow. The other three are striking identical poses, similar to how models pose, lead by the boy.

In complete silence albeit the sound of shoes moving on the gravel between poses, the boy takes his hand out of his pocket and puts it on his hip, so do the other three men.

He turns the other direction, looks down at the ground to check his position and then slowly looks up, as do the others following his lead.

This happens a few more times before the three of them look at the man without shades.

“Who are YOU?” one of the men says.

The questioned man looks embarrassed.

“What the hell are YOU doing here?”