Catherina - Day 23

I was driving on a six-lane grey road, and on both sides were thick bushes guarding the outermost edge of two residences. It was queer to see such wide pathways in this district, as it neighbored downtown. I drove by without casting another eye on the roadside, for I had to concentrate on driving – an especially dangerous sport for me because I had not yet received my driver's license. Despite my lack of training, the car proceeded smoothly like a dolphin carving through waves. Perhaps it went too smoothly – with the accelerator pressed continuously, the car slid forward without roaming, and I had the sense that the system was still as a solid rock.

A green light turned red at the next cross, and I hastened to switch my foot from the accelerator to the brake since I was already a lampstand away from the crossings. One second passed, and I had covered half of the distance before my foot touched the brake. One and a half seconds - I slammed against the paddle. Two seconds – the car shrieked in decelerating – and the stop line was right there in front of my eyes. Two and a half seconds – the car jerked forward in stopping, my forehead almost bumping against the front shield. Three seconds – the car stopped, and I slightly slid off the seat with a desire to vomit, for the safety belt was pressing too tightly against my stomach. After all, I did not violate too many traffic laws, although the car's nose went over the stop line - to be fair, I stopped at the center of the crossing.

Waiting for the green light, I reflected on my mistake: why did I drive so fast? I did not understand the initial cause but a more surficial one - a weird impatience rising from nowhere had nominated my mind, urging me to rush, rush, and rush while neglecting any traffic. I turned my head to survey my surroundings and found no camera beside the traffic light. Left, right, left – no car was coming, and not even a pedestrian came into sight. The entire domain around me was silent as the dead, a death that no person, no vehicle, no trees by streetside, or ants crawling in the pavement's seams could escape. The only being breathing here was me, who located at the center of this space, bewildered and irritable.

Maybe I had not stopped for long, because the lights above my head remained red and had no apparent intention to change its color. However, I felt an entire minute, or more likely, ten minutes had passed. Checking the rear-view mirror repeatedly (in fact, I was either staring blankly ahead or into the mirrors), I reassured that no one was approaching. But that could not erase my anxiety, for I felt that someone had been chasing me for a menacing cause.

Therefore, I decided to take a risk, which would prompt me to break traffic laws and possibly deliver my parents a ticket. I had made up my mind and fallen into action immediately. Left, right, left, and forward I went.

The road seemed never-ending, and even though I had driven by at least three blocks, the surrounding scene was continuous with a dull shade of green. Another few minutes I had spent on the road, and finally, a point of divergence appeared on the horizon. Without hesitation, I chose the right lane that was narrower and less conspicuous.

As if coming to a completely foreign city, I arrived at a street with overwhelming vitality – shops, malls, and traffic jams. I had left one extreme for another.

For some mysterious reasons, I felt relaxed and reassured as that preying sense of being stalked had vanished. Therefore, I parked the car on a slope – I could have better choices, but that spot had an inexplicable attraction to me – and walked away from it.

Once I walked out of the car, the domain had transformed into a lifeless one, where withered trees and tall grasses had laid the landscape. I should've missed the livelier city, but curiously that sentiment had been replaced by an admiration of the country – an admiration coming out so naturally if I was born to this stretch of land.

Deeper. A voice inside me implored thus. Following its command, I walked on, cutting through grasses high as my waist, unknown toothy leaves brushing against my ankles. Itchy, and I worried about bug bites.

Deeper, deeper, and deeper. Buzzing non-stopping, the voice degraded from a mighty commander to an annoying, humming mosquito. It was not enough, and you must go deeper, deeper, and deeper.

An ever-lasting repetition of the word "deeper." A powerful prayer it was, for I gradually felt my entire cavity resonating this double-syllable sound.

Suddenly, I spotted a grey little bus stop at the end of the field. It stood in the middle of nowhere, as I saw no way leading up to or from it - an isolated construction that set the background for a perfect midnight thriller.

Notwithstanding, I walked up to the bus stop, and a green bus with white top arrived just when I stepped onto the concrete ground sheltered by a metallic roof. Hand reaching into my pocket, I found a public transit card. The bus's front door had opened, and the driver turned to cast a glance down on me – a middle-aged man in black uniform, an average bus driver you might expect in this town/city/country.

I boarded the bus and took a seat beside the window. The bus was neither crowded nor empty, passengers in shade scattering across the cabin, each minding their own business.

Where am I going? Another question without an answer. The names of stations popping up on the rolling bar on the bus's front were not the ones I could comprehend. Not in a way that I had never seen or heard of them, but rather that I could only grasp a vague idea of what they were communicating despite the words in my native tongue.

The bus slugged forward on a narrow path that extended in front of it into solemn darkness – outside was nightfall decorated by starring light in the distance. Even though I did not turn to look behind me, I was sure that there was no road behind. Just as I saw no path beside the bus stop, a passage only emerged with its potential taker (the bus, in this case).

Gradually, the bus became less populated, passengers going off here and there, not necessarily at the stops though, for they were disappearing, dispersing in the air one by one.

At last, no one existed in my sight except the driver; of course, there were still people who sat behind me, and their presence was not negligible. Walking up towards the driver, I studied the rolling bar above my head – a familiar green light from that thousand liquid crystals. A neon sort of green. Where had I seen it? A flash of green. A green light.

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