Just Another Day

Just Another Day

“ Can’t I just stay another day?” asked the thirteen year old girl, Abigail. She batted her eyes and continued to stare at her grandmother.

“You need to go home today.” She said. “Your brother Darryn is getting homesick.”

The woman pointed to the corner of the small kitchen. A small boy, not a day older than three, was drawing on a sheet of paper. A pile of crayons, mostly broken, surrounded him on the tile floor. “I’m only making ONE four-hour drive to your house.”

Abigail’s grandfather walked in a door from the garage, wiping his greasy hands on a white shirt. He set a wrench down on the counter and began to speak.
“We could send her back on a bus a day later.” He opened the refrigerator, nearly tripping over Abigail’s brother. “Her mom would probably pay for the fare.”

“I don’t want her to be exposed to—that side of life.” Abigail’s grandmother began to wring her hands. Abigail knew that she was talking about the bum’s and drug attics that frequented the buses.

“She’ll have to be exposed to ‘that side of life’ eventually. Why not now?” Abigail’s grandfather said, taking an apple from the fridge. “Are you okay with it, Abby?”

Abigail nodded fervently.

“I would love that.” She smiled as her brother walked up, waving a drawing rapidly.

“I drew a cow!”

“That’s nice, Darryn.” Praised Abigail’s grandmother. She patted him on the head and turned back to Abigail. “I really, really don’t...”

“It’s bus number 36, with Blue Streak Bus Lines.” Said Abigail’s grandfather. “I looked at all of the information online. It would only be a five hour ride, with rest stops.” Abigail smiled; she knew that her grandfather would always take her side against her worrisome grandmother.

“Please, please grandma!”

“No. “ her grandmother took a very firm expression. “And that’s final.”

Abigail sighed; she knew that there was no chance of winning this battle. Perhaps she would try to come back in a month for summer break.



Abigail was nearly crying by the time she was home. Her family situation was not desirable; with two parents who drank too much beer, argued too much and then left home for days at a time. Her drug addict brother was not helping her out much either,

She picked up three duffel bags, one off which was her younger brother’s.

She walked inside, the little boy following her closely. and dropped her bags on the floor next to a note that was written in, in her mother’s drunken handwriting.

“Back in Three Days” it said.

The very next day, Abigail turned on the television to the local news channel. A female reporter was standing before a wreck that may have once been a car.

“This is a tragedy.” She said. “Blue Streak Bus Lines number 36 has been involved in a bridge collapse. Every passenger inside has died.”