It was about 4:15pm. My bus was due any minute, and surrounding me was my multiple bags of shopping. I peered down the road, keeping an eye out for the bus. Nothing. Sighing I sat back against the chair. My silence was broken when a large white van pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down and a man leaned forward from the driver’s seat.
“Hey! What bus you waitin’ for?” I glanced up politely.
“Uh, the 620.” I stated matter-of-factly. He smiled widely.
“Well, I’m actually from the bus company. The bus has broken down so I’ve had to come and do the rounds.” I glanced sceptically at the empty van.
“I’d rather wait for the next one thanks, if you don’t mind.” The man frowned a bit.
“It could be quite a while til the next one arrives. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.” I smiled and shook my head, there was no way I was hopping in that van.
“It’s cool. I’ll be fine.” The guy’s happy mood suddenly snapped.
“I don’t give a shit. Just get in the goddamn van.” I cocked an eyebrow at that point.
“Eh?” He seemed pretty pissed, and quite frankly I had no idea what to do. Seeming as I wasn’t following his instructions, he jammed the hand-break on and jumped out of the van.
“You little bitch.” He mumbled quietly to me. I stood slowly and carefully watched his movements as he swaggered closer. I stepped backward, somehow I felt I couldn’t run; I had to face him no matter what.
He lunged for my arm, and managed to grasp my wrist tightly. I lunged out with my foot, and hit his crutch as hard as I could. It was enough, and his grip was released. He lunged again, but this time I was ready and dodged. Within milliseconds he had a clenched fist flying toward my face, I dodged the first but the second fist was on its way. With lightning fast reactions I managed to grab his fist, some hidden strength heightening all of my senses, before slamming my own clenched fist square into his face.
It hurt like hell, but damn it felt good, and it was a perfect hit; his nose was sticking to one side, blood pouring from within, and he was staggering blindly to the ground. I had no idea what to do. Had I just broken the law? Should I call an ambulance? I felt I should do something, but instead, when I looked up I saw the bus approaching, my mind went blank and, grabbing my bags, boarded the bus as fast as I could.
So, sitting at the bus stop this afternoon I had this rather retarded day dream, but it’s pretty normal for me; beating up rapists with my pretend skills of doom and wonder. It’s how I deal with people I don’t like, I just imaginary-punch them in the face: problem solvered. Well, in my imagination anyway, I’ve never been faced with this predicament before, but maybe if something bad does happen, the amount of daydreams I have about fighting people may come in handy, well that’s how I’d like it to be.
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