Cora's Blog Post

I needed to get away from them -- quickly. I had never imagined myself running away, but with everyone after me, I had no choice. Swiftly making my way down the corridor to collect my things, I passed the multitude of pictures featuring my wife and children on the wall. To think that it had been my own family who turned on me. I picture the image of their limp bodies and shiver at the thought, an even greater urge to get away washing over me. I needed to be somewhere safe. Slamming my suitcase on the bed and haphazardly shoving my clothing and belongings into it was out of character for me. I preferred everything to be clean and meticulous. When I had finished packing, I pulled my coat over my head and hastily made my way to the bus station. The monstrous claps of thunder matched my anger, the electric lightning matched my urgency. The images of pain flashed behind my eyes, the macabre past 24 hours seared into my brain forever. 

The bus pulled into the stop now, screeching to a halt and spraying freezing rain water at me and the 3 other people waiting. Soaked to the bone and emotionally drained, I shove past the other patrons and make my way towards the back. The wheels turn and the bus leaves the station, carrying me away from the pain and suffering of the past day. 

A few minutes into the ride, a young mother’s keys fell from her fingers and slammed into the mucky bus floor, making a clunking noise that struck me, making me shiver. The metal on metal contact piercing the quiet atmosphere reminded me too much of the sound the knife made as it slipped from my fingers and hit the kitchen floor not 24 hours ago.