Keith collapsed on the ground, clutching his best friend who just died in his arms. He struggled to catch his breath. Looking at the blank lifeless stare in Jordon’s eyes, Keith lie his friend gently on the ground.
A scream came from behind him as he picked up the gun and shot himself.
Three Months Earlier:
Keith dashed into the kitchen, grabbing the piece of toast from the toaster, stuffed it into his mouth while heading out the door.
“Keith, don’t forget to come straight home after baseball practice. Remember, we have to talk,” his father yelled out to him.
“Later, dad. I don’t need any hassling this early in the morning,” Keith shouted back to his father while slamming the door behind him.
He ran up to the bus, stomping his feet through the puddles. Although eighteen years old, Keith had the habit since he was three.
Ascending the steps of the bus, he tossed his jacket at book bag onto the first empty seat he came to, collapsing onto the seat. He rubbed his tired eyes, looking all around him, stretching and yawning.
He glared at the students with the designer clothes, and the Smart Phones.
“Hey, Keith. Good game last weekend, hah,” Jordon approached him and sat down when the driver brought the bus to a complete stop at the railroad tracks. He sat down next to Keith who glanced at him, and returned his attention to what was going on outside the window.
A car was on fire after colliding with a semi truck. Jordon looked at Keith and then shut the bus window. “Man, all that smoke from out there isn’t healthy. I can’t stand the smell.”
“Why do you do that?” Keith glared at him while unzipping his book bag, staring at the pack of cigarettes, patting them gently.
“What?” Jordon stuffed his hands into his pocket, and pulled out a pack of baseball cards.
Looking down at the baseball cards in Jordon’s hands, and then at Jordon, Keith took in some deep breaths. “You’re always worried about the stupidest little things.”
“My baseball cards?” Jordon put on card behind the other while skimming through the information on the back of each of them.
“No. The way your always closing the bus window, or making sure not to slip up here or there.” Keith wrinkled his nose, staring out the bus window at the party store they past.
“I told you I can’t stand the smell of smoke. Nothing else,” Jordon turned around when he heard someone call out his name.
It was a young man sitting two seats back from them across the aisle. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. I’m just trying to focus on having a good day today.” Jordon concentrated on his baseball cards when the was jerked forward, hitting his head against the seat in the front of him. “What the…”
Keith braced himself with his hand, looked over at Jordon, and at up at the bus driver. “What’s that all about?”
“Sorry. I had to stop quick, because a squirrel ran into the road.”
“Are you kidding me?” Keith smacked his hand against the seat in the front of him.
A girl turned around, glaring at him. “Hey, watch it.”
Smoke stacks ascended into the air as they passed an old factory. It was the ugliest building in town, because it was run down on the outside. Some of the windows were boarded up.
“Why would they keep that place up and running in the condition it’s in, Keith?” Jordon stared at the smoke curling up into the air.
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m trying not to think about it.” Keith opened the window, resting his hand against it.
The sounds of the train filled their ears.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016