I Waved, But Said Nothing

Do you ever see something that makes you feel so completely and utterly helpless, unable to do anything that you can only stare back at whatever it is and really don't do anything at all? I haven't...Not yet.

It was a fairly cloudy afternoon, I mean as cloudy as it could get where I live anyway. I would even swear that the sun here had a personal vendetta against me, trying to rip the life from my languid from with its luminescent rays, if I didn't enjoy it so much. Really, I don't think I could live anywhere else, comfortably anyway. I was slowly making my way home from school, it was about 5:00 PM, my school lasts unreasonably late, and I was briskly sauntering past its entryway and far past its short, stumpy and sandy colored outer-walls. I let out a light sigh, just relived to leave the premises.

I carried on past the maze of nearby, almost identical, houses and past the gas station I'd seen various upperclassmen leave to go buy snacks from. For some reason, usually the upperclassmen I know always have snacks. Not me though, well, I'm not an upperclassman, barely even a freshman for that matter but...That's not important, is it? Nobody cares about that.

My legs shook beneath me, i'd been going on for awhile at this point, it's always this point. This place with the hazardous looking bench, where I get weary. With yet another sigh, I lowered myself to that exact bench and leaned back as far as my body would let me. I tilted my head up and gazed back at the sky, it was still cloudy, and I was still freezing cold.

"Hey!"

Startled, I stiffened; eyes, previously closed in a failed attempt to keep my contact lenses dry, shooting ajar, pupils growing minuscule as the flickering streetlight nearly blinded me. My chest tightened as I lowered my gaze to a diminutive figure more than just a few feet away from me, out in the street. It was too dark to tell if they were a girl or a boy, or what, possibly tacky, clothes they may have been wearing. Only that they were reasonably slim, about my height give or take, and that they were standing far out in the middle of the street. Their head lowered, they didn't seem to know I was here, not that I wanted them to anyway. There was something, down at their feet that I couldn't quite make out, it was getting darker by the second and the moon, hidden in a thick sheet of clouds, failed to illuminate any of my nearby surroundings, let alone the things that weren't so nearby.

They, the stranger in the road, stiffened, turning around slowly to face me. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest, the beat of the fist sized organ accelerating. Why was I getting so worried, so worked up over a stranger, simply taking their sweet time to make their way across the open road? They weren't doing anything particularly "sinister" or "absurd". But....Deep down I was terrified that, by the time they slowly spun around, that their eyes would be devoid of all color and life, that their skin would wriggle like worms beneath its surface. That their possibly horrible, vile breath would carry far across the gap between us, invading my nostrils, assaulting my senses, causing my rather large ocher brown eyes to water profusely. And, by the time they finally dried up, it'd already be too late.

Yet, when they did turn to face me, there was nothing abnormal about their face at all. Or, if there was I couldn't tell, I could barely see them at all for that matter. All I could tell, was we shared a similar hair color, I say similar because I doubt it was exactly the same, especially in this awful lighting, and that they just stared back at me with the blankest expression I had ever laid eyes on. I waved, but said nothing.

They stumbled back before a large blaring car horn ripped through the silence. They turned to face the now, oncoming headlights, time itself hiccuping, stopping for a split second, that almost felt like a million years. I looked on in absolute terror as the stranger was crushed under the evanescent semi, bones and flesh all losing its familiar shape, coagulating under the large tires of the vehicle. "Evanescent" may not sound like the right word, but it really did look like, or more, feel like just a fleeting moment, that truck. Like it was just as brief as I wished this feeling bubbling up in my stomach and burning the back of my throat was. The stranger, or more now "strange mass" didn't even scream. And I, only watched. I felt so completely helpless, so unable to provide assistance to this now liquid aggregate of torn limbs, bone powder and blood in the street, could I have helped somehow? Maybe if I was more friendly, maybe if I, instead of watching in unnecessary terror, invited them to sit down besides me and talk. I got up, called the police and speed walked home.

The next day, was almost equally if not more cloudy than the one before, I was freezing, but I was prepared and brought the largest jacket in my armoire along with me for the trip home. I wondered past the sandy outer-walls of my school, the maze of twin buildings and the shady gas station. My legs shaking beneath me as I carried on. The old, rickety bench greeted me with open arms as I languidly dragged my feet past. What happened yesterday refusing to remove its claws from my memories, uncoil its tightening tendrils. But, if I carried on without a proper rest any further, I would probably pass out in the sidewalk. And that would not be the best thing to do at 6:00 PM. So reluctantly I leaned back and tried my best to relax.

"Hey, you!"

A cold shiver ran down my spine as a small figure raced into the street from absolutely nowhere. My heart beat even faster, there's no way this could possibly be the same stranger from the other night, i saw them, pulverized to a bloody pulp. Whoever they were, they looked down at something I couldn't quite make out, at their feet, and looked to me... I waved but said nothing.

The stranger stiffened as an all too familiar car horn blared, shredding the familiar silence like frail tissue paper. I wanted to say something, anything. But, by the time my mouth finally fell ajar it was too late. The sickening crunch of flesh and bones being constricted, crushed and liquefied resounded and I ran. My legs were wasted, my breath was heavy and shallow, I felt like I was choking, drowning in my fear, but I kept going.

The next day, the sky nearly resembled a blanket made of whatever clouds were made of. A blanket of vapor, a plate of bleach white cotton stretching out as far as the eye, or my eye, could see. I brought two coats with me that day. The sun was seemingly swaddled like a new born baby by the "mar", the clumps in the sky, failing to radiate warmth, taking a rest, a day off almost. I sped past the wall, the houses, the gas station and threw myself in a hurry on the bench. If it happened again I was going to stop it, I was going to be ready. I waited and I waited, but nobody came. The entire clearing, the street, the sidewalk, the whole surrounding area was desolate, empty, devoid of life almost completely. Curious, I hopped up, calling out for someone, anyone in the dark not-so-moonlit night.

"H-Hey!"

Nothing, no reply, only silence. Restless, I tiptoed into the roadway, my eyes widening as a sickening squish echoed, no, sparsely whispered to me. The nauseating sound effect slithered from the asphalt and nested in my eardrum. I was shaking. I couldn't stop shaking. A gross eroded, mangled lump of flesh sat at my feet, the blood, old, clumped together and anything but liquid, clinging to the road as if its nonexistent "life" depended on it. Confused, disturbed, I slowly turned back around, completely ready to sprint back home again if needed. My brows furrowed, as a stranger, greeted me from my place on the dilapidated bench. My chest replied with an all too familiar tightening sensation, my heartbeat accelerated, time hiccuped and they waved, but said nothing.