The Ride Home

The bus ride home was long. Silently, Tim cursed his sister. He had worked long, thankless retails hours to buy his car, a 2006 Pontiac Vibe, in his final year of high school. Tabby, a year younger than him, had never worked a day in her life. Instead, she had begged and pleaded to borrow the car, and of course Tim had caved. He always caved. It was one of the things he hated about himself.

She'd probably been texting while driving. She'd never admit it, though, nor did he expect her to pay for the repairs. How could she? The 'gap year' she had decided to take after graduating wasn't being filled with employment, but rather with Netflix and weed.

And boys.

Tabby loved boys.

And they loved her. Tim always had a hard time keeping track of all the boys that she had dated over the years. She was, after all, hot. Even Tim, her brother, had to admit that his sister was hot. A few nights in his adolescence, Tim had even had Tabby's image flit through his mind while enjoying a masturbation session, something that had horrified him when it happened. He'd **** himself to be more careful after that, even to the point of ensuring that he had an image up on a screen in front of him, just to stay focused.

The bus stopped at an intersection and let an older man on who sat near the front. He looked withered, wasted. Was that Tim's future? Would he be an old man on the bus, riding alone, heading nowhere in particular? He hoped not, but didn't really see any changes coming up in his future, despite what that weird woman had said at the flea market.

As the bus started moving again, he thought back on his experience. What had happened there? It had to have been a trick. There was no such thing as magic, right? Whatever it was, it had cost him five bucks. It was a good thing he had change for the bus in his pocket, otherwise he'd be taking the long walk home.

When Tim had gotten outside, he'd looked for the old woman. He'd told himself that it was to make sure that she was okay, but really, there was a piece of him who wanted to be reassured that some sort of voodoo hadn't been done. Well, he wasn't reassured. The woman was nowhere to be found. Despite asking around, despite searching, she was gone. Probably had hopped in her car to go home. But there was a small voice nattering away in the back of his mind telling him that she hadn't, that something else was going on.

Pressing the button to indicate that his stop was next, Tim got up from his seat and walked to the side door. He'd be home soon, and would have to confront his sister, yet again, on the repairs for his car. And of course, he would cave, just like he always did. He hated his life. Something had to change.