Beside the Kerb

A Story by rimalex

A story about a boy, Kerby, whose life is re-winded at every sunrise, a boy whose story is only as good as he imagines it to be.

This was my favourite part of the day, because I knew, that every morning, the most breathtaking girl that would be sitting at my bus stop. I stretched my arms out, although my left was stopped by the wall beside my bed. I tried my best to get up without convincing myself that five more minutes of sleep wouldn't make me late. As I sat up, I shut off my phone as to stop the screeching sound of what I thought would be a good idea for an alarm. I threw my phone on my bed and reached for my uniform, which at first due to my terrible eyesight looked like some sort of white robe. My white shirt had a button missing, I probably lost it while playing football. My legs fit perfectly into my trousers, as did my feet into my socks and shoes. I awaited for the bathrooms ever lasting vacancy, and after five minutes of leaning against the wall opposite to the bathroom door it was finally free, but only when I realised that this was my room, and I've been waiting for the vacancy of an empty bathroom. I twisted my wrist while clamped onto the doorknob, I pushed the door open and closed it behind me, just in case. I looked at myself, unfortunately I did not like what I saw, a piece of hair was out of place. After I finished grooming myself for five minutes and looking at myself for ten, I grabbed my bag and started walking to the bus stop, which was right outside my house, for which the address was Haus Rd 93, that was always amusing.

I reached my right hand out and dragged it's roots along the fence, my fingers colliding with bumps and dents made of the remnants of nature, the oak wood treading off my finger. Stepping on the long and unkempt course green grass, I noticed some brown patches from the intense summer sun and lack of rain. I hopped over the cracks cemented into the ground, as if stepping on them would split the platform beneath me and hurl me into another dimension. After what seemed to be less than half a minute, I arrived at my bus stop. It was a park bench bordered by a brick wall and a wooden ivory green roof, beside which a “Stop” sign stood, covered by a muddle inking of the words “B-Stop”, why they couldn't write out the full two words truly did baffle me. The thing that bothered me the most was not lazy graffiti on the stop sign, nor was it the uneven padding of the bricks on the walls, no, what it was, was that the person I saw in front of me was the most majestic looking creature my eyes had ever seen. They say that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and at that moment, my eyes were filled to capacity with the one thing I'd always wished to see.

To be honest, I don't get out much. I only leave my house when I need to be at school, other than that I have the safe incarceration of my bed room. I live there, I eat there, I sleep there, and one day, I'll most probably die there, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. She sat with her legs crossed, back straight and face glistening, I hesitated. I didn't know if I was allowed to sit down, but I did, ever so slowly. I pulled my bag off my back and gently unhanded my grip from it's right strap. The dark cerulean bag hit the ground like a meteor from outer space, the dust rose and fell back once more, if I didn't know better, I'd say we were in a desert. Unfortunately, I didn't say anything at all. It seemed as if she completely disregarded my presence, but it didn't hurt that much, I was getting used to it. I wanted to talk to her, so desperately, I wanted to see her sultry lips move and her amber coloured eyes tire from looking at me so much they began to sweat, I bet her tears could cure the incurable.

Her hair fell down on her shoulders, a rich shade of mahogany. It flowed in waves to adorn her glowing skin. Her eyes framed by long lashes, a straight nose, she seemed the definition of perfection. Had she smiled even once, the heavens would open and take back what had once fallen, an angel from the skies. I had to say something, the only problem was that I didn't know what. I looked to my left, the cars passing by, they reminded me how instantaneous moments can be, one second I could be laying on the road, the next, beneath the ground. It amazed me, I always had a vivid imagination, yet, for reasons beyond me, I could not conjure up one word. It was getting cold, really cold, my fingers started to shiver, being in the middle of a desert was not a possibility anymore. My jaws started to quiver, although I was still looking away I couldn't help feeling the need to look at her once more. I placed both my hands on either side of my thighs, still shivering I slowly turned my head, only to see an empty bench, and behind it was a dark, Celadon green tiled wall.

I looked down at my hands, white sleeves covered my wrists, pulling my right sleeve up as I began to sweat I could see some sort of band with a number printed on it's border, I began to remember. I was not waiting for a bus, I felt my ears begin to throb, my whole body froze. I used what was left of my panic-stricken self to turn my head and look over to what I thought was my house, it said “Level B: Room s93”, not so amusing anymore. The cars were hospital carts, the road was the hall way and the kerbs were the entrances to the incarcerated psychotics. I look back to where the girl was sitting and I couldn't help but notice that she too disappeared along with the preferred scenery. One moment I was in heaven, and the next I was in the fiery depths of hell, which was somewhat cold.

Everything was moving slowly, the fly hovering over the bench, the white ends of my robe fluttering in the soft breeze, the hoard of nurses in sea blue running towards me. One of the nurses dashed up to me with what looked like a short, minuscule hose. She bent down and grabbed an oxygen bag which was in the place of what I thought was my school bag, I had split the pipe in half when I threw it on the ground. I tapped her on the shoulder, my lips still trembling and whispered “Wh-where did the p-pretty girl g-go.”. I kept turning my head to see if anyone was around, scratching my arms and twitching. She finished fixing my oxygen tank and slowly rose to sit beside me on the bench. She looked at me with the most saddened smile, her hair in a bun, while two lonely strands lingered on her face, her eyes were shining, glistening with the tears that had later fell from them. She took one deep breath and said “I'm nurse Linda, I've been taking care of you for around two and a half years now, you were sitting at your bus stop and a car accident had occurred extremely close to you and unfortunately one of the cars had hit you hard in the back of the head. You would have died was it not for the girl at your bus stop, she called the ambulance and made sure you were safe all the way. This is the hard part, so listen carefully, every morning you wake up, you have the same exact memories that you had that dreadful day, and you live out every single one of them, up until the point where you get hit. The girl you thought you saw earlier isn't here, Kerby, I'm so sorry.”

It was at that moment that I realised that this had happened before, every single day. But for some reason, this time it felt real. I had almost spoken to an angel, but why must she only exist in a wonderland which I will never witness again. If she truly fell from the open heavens, must it not mean she was the devil, for Lucifer was the only angel to have ever fallen from the skies. Such evil brought me such contentment, yet when brought back to reality I was nothing more than another number, in another facility, on another death bed. Is it impossible to talk to her, even in my wildest imaginations? Must I always be interrupted by an unfortunate life-threatening accident, and the worst part was, that every day I would wake up, build up the courage to talk to someone who does not exist, and yet no matter how close I was to her, I would always be closer to the kerb.