A Madman's Waiting For The Bus

Waiting for the Bus - Original Writing

It was about 8 o'clock in the evening, it was been raining for a very long time; the atmosphere around is so miserable; the air is so heavy as if it's filled with lead and the surroundings are dull and lifeless as if it was the darkest corner on earth. A middle aged man with tattoos all over his body smoking a cigar is being interviewed by a female doctor in a psychiatric hospital.

While preparing the apparatus, the young lady tells him about the procedure:" This conversation will be recorded, as many others before it, do you understand Peter? Would you like to tell me about your dreams?" In this depressing room, with dull lights, you can only see the still

There was a pause during which the young psychiatrist was looking desperately into the madman's eyes and him looking away as if ashamed of something. "My dreams get longer each night"- whispered the patient in a distressed voice. The conversation was ended there and then; Peter never said a word until his next meeting with the psychiatrist. Every time they met their chat got them one step closer to the patient's dream.

Spring was approaching; the weather gradually began to change from cold and rainy to sunny and cheerful. These were the first few days it has been like this. It was like a new start for Peter; the weather was divine and precious, he could not get enough of it, it seemed like it gave him power and superiority over every one else. As the days grew longer, so did the conversations the psychiatrist and the man had.

It was an ordinary day and as usual Peter was having a 5 o'clock interview with his psychiatric specialist. Every interview the crazy man has attended, he would always start from the beginning.

He stared longingly at the sunset and began to speak again: "I was only seven when this happened, it was a cold and rainy night, my grandmother and I were desperately waiting for my mother's bus to arrive. It was extremely slippery and she fell, my dear granny, she hit her head on the concrete and hasn't moved at all after that. I was petrified, all I did was stand in the dark and helplessly stare at my grandmother's body. The rain poured even harder, hitting me in the face, blinding me from the reality. I didn't feel pain; neither did I feel loss, all I had in my head was fear. Suddenly I saw a light and when the bus stopped, my mother came off and grabbed me tight, she was like an angel reaching for me into the darkness. After half realizing what happened she pushed me out of the way and kneeled in front of the old lady's body, desperately trying to help. After a few minutes my mother managed to get my grandmother's body onto the bus to take her to the hospital.

I was completely ignored. I saw as the passengers on the bus gathered around the old lady, trying to do what they can. I saw the bus