Dans HW

Walking out of school seeing the same bus over and over again, getting the same feeling every time, the smell gets worse every time I walk past.

But I never know why they don’t get rid of it, It must be very important to them but why, does it have a secrete behind it. No one will ever know until someone finds out why it sits there getting rustier every time. I see a dark silhouette standing behind it his eyes were dark tunnels his face was bleeding his nose was dripping I didn’t know what it was, who would.