Short Stories

Paulina stood at the bus stop, her duffel bag on the ground. Her hazel eyes were glazed over, and her head was tilted slightly upward, looking at the clouds. It's gonna rain, she thought.
The bus came from around the corner and stopped. An old lady with a large handbag and a dude with a mohawk stepped off the bus. Paulina continued to stand there.
"Hey, girl. You gonna get on?" Called the bus driver.
"No. It's all right." She says. The bus driver shrugged and closed the door. The bus drove away, leaving Paulina. She smiled a little bit, and sat on the wrought-iron bench nearby.
She continued to stare at the black clouds. Across the road was a cornfield. It was empty, except for the broken stalks and half way exposed rocks. She felt a soft tap on her shoulder.
There was a tall man with shoulder length blonde hair and sharp blue eyes standing over her. He smiled, dimples showed. He sat down next to her.
"Hey." He said.
"Hello." Responded Paulina, smiling. His blue eyes searched hers.
"Who are you?" She asked, in a small vioce.
"I'm Jason. Who are you?" He smiled, again.
"Paulina." She said, watching Jason with wide eyes. What does he want, she thought. His arm was behind the bench, and he was very close.
"That's a beautiful name." He scooted closer.
"Thank you. Your name is pretty, too." Paulina scooted away. Jason creeped her out a bit.
"It's gonna rain." He said.
"Yes, I know."
"You just gonna sit there?"
"I guess. I don't really have anywhere else to go." She kept her eyes away from Jason's.
"You could crash at my place." He suggested. Paulina looked at him like he was crazy.
"I'm serious. Come on." He grabbed her hand, and pulled her up with him when he stood. He, also, grabbed her duffel.
"My place isn't that far from here." He said, in a rush, pulling her northwards.
"Um... I don't really know you, though." Said Paulina, tugging against her captor. Jason laughed. He pulled her closer, and kissed her cheek. Then her lips. On the surface of the kiss, it was soft and tender, but, still, there was a predortorial edge. Paulina's hand smashed into his face.
Jason held his now-bleeding nose, moaning. She grabbed her bag and ran.
***
Paulina sat on the torn leather seat of the bus. She didn't know where it was going, but at the next stop, she was gonna get off.
A few hours later, the bus came to a screeching halt. She and a couple other passengers got off.
After the bus had left, Paulina stood, at the corner, staring at the concrete. She sighed, picked up her bag and started walking south. She passed houses with children playing in the yards. They all stopped their shenanigans when she passed. She kept her head down, and her feet scuffled across the ground.
***
It was dark now. Paulina plopped down on the grassy ditch along side the road. She leaned against the bag like it was a pillow, and stared at the stars. You never could see the stars in Green Bay, she thought, They're so beautiful.
Her hand went to the circular locket around her neck. She opened it, and saw the smiling faces of her parents. That was them on their wedding day. Her mother's huge fro and her father's bug-eye like glasses were reminiscent of the eighty's. Tears welled up in her eyes, remembering them. Paulina squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to go away. A couple stubborn ones leaked out of the corners of her eyes. They dropped unto her jeans leg. She sniffed.
Blinding head lights appeared, coming in her direction. They came closer. It was a dark colored pick-up truck with mud splattered on the sides and in the treads. The truck came to a stop. The driver's door opened and slammed shut.
"Hey! You okay?" Called a man's voice. The man was tall, and was wearing a cowboy hat. Paulina shrunk away the truck, hiding behind her bag. The man stopped, and crouched where the gravel ended and the grass started. He took off his hat, and set it on the ground afore him.
"Come on. I'm not gonna hurt you." He said, gently. Paulina stared at him, wide-eyed. He chuckled.
"You look like you saw a ghost." She gulped, but crept towards him. He smiled.
"Hello. I'm Sam. What are you called?" He had a smooth Minnesotan accent. Under his brown jacket, which was open, was a Brett Farve Vikings jersey.
"I'm Paulina." He whistled.
"Paulina. That's a mouthful. Can I call you Pauli?"
"Sure, I guess." She shrugged.
"Well, Pauli, where you headin'?" He asked.
"I don't know."
"I know a place you can stay, 'till you figure out where you want to be." Pauli flinched.
"It's at my momma's house. I don't go sleepin' with girls I just met." He sounded disgusted at the thought. Sam stood up. Paulina did, too.
"Hey, let me get that for you." Sam offered, taking her duffel bag from her, tossing it in the bed. He smiled.
"Get in."


The End