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Description
Downtown is Hell. You think that I might be referring to the traffic or the amount of rude people, but I'm not. I am talking about people in a way, but not the sort that you care to run into everyday. The streets are filled with vagrants of all kinds; the insane homeless, crack addicts, and the wrongly released mental paitents. A lovely assortment, isn't it? Strangely, somehow, the people are not the whole story of why I call downtown Hell. The air is bad down there. Not only does it stink, but it's stale. No, maybe not stale...there is no air. It's creepy. I'm a grown man and going downtown to catch a bus makes me feel like I'm getting ready to go skydiving...or like someone just dropped a bucketful of ice down my pants. It's that bad.
The major disadvantage of not owning a car in the city is having to catch most of the buses at a depot downtown. See, you can catch a bus from right outside of your comfy little apartment in your nice little neighborhood (like I do. Right from the door of my little comfy apartment in my nice little neighborhood) but to get to the other lines when you're commuting, you HAVE to go downtown. I find myself holding my breath as soon as the skyscrapers are in sight...they look like gravestones from here.
Today, there's a problem. For everyone else on this bus, it's an inconvience. For me, it means worse. The depot is being worked on, so the bus has to let us off on the main street and we actually have to walk to our next buses. If I was prone to panic attacks, I would have one right now. A great big mother-of-them-all panic attack. I'm not worried about walking, I'm worried about walking through a sea of THEM. All of a sudden, images from Night of the Living Dead fill my head and makes my stomach lurch. Part of my brain tried to be rational: They're just unfortunates, there's nothing in the world that should even make me think that they would (or could, even) crowd around me ith the hungry dead eyes, eager to taste my flesh. I was being stupid. that's all.
As calmly as I could, I filed out of the bus behind the other passengers, dreading having to even get of of the bus. The air was foul this time. Pigeon shit and litter covered the ground. I guess using a garbage can is out of the question. Once off the bus, the driver quickly shut the doors and drove off. I swore that I could see a smile on his lips. That bastard.
I sighed (but not too deeply, the air here can kill you) and started walking. Ten blocks to go and the sooner that I'm away from downtown, the better.
I started on my way past the bums and business people alike. I kept my eyes forward, never trying to look ANYONE in the eyes, let alone their faces. I made it through the first block--through the mazes of people and ugly buildings--without trouble, without anything to cause me panic. I was happy, relieved. I was jumping to the worst conclusions about downtown. The last thing I needed to do to get it completely out of my head was to prove it to myself that these were people and not a bunch of zombies from a late night horror movie. But, how was I to do that? The answer was simple, I could just say "hello" to one of the homeless, treat them like they are human. Treat them vetter than most people do. I made up my mind just then: the next person that I'd see that just so happened to be a homeless crazy, I'd say "hello" to them, maybe even give them some of the loose change in my pocket if they happen to ask me for some. Today would mark the beginning of a new life (or a new way of living) for me. At least, I wouldn't be afraid anymore.
You know, a funny thing happens once you've decided to change things or the way you look at things for the better. All of a sudden, the street seemed devoid of life. Doesn't this always happen? Your friend's going to pick you up, so you wait around, looking for your friend's red car...the only problem is that every car that you see going down your block happens to be a red car. That's just what happened now. When I didn't want to see them, they were everywhere. Now that I actually do want to seem them, they're nowhere in sight. I grumbled under my breath and kept walking.
Another half-black down and I saw the first person that I could be nice to. The person was pretty far away so I couldn't tell what sex or race the person was. All I could see was that the person was in a wheelchair and wore blue jeans and, despite the warm weather, a heavy-looking white sweater. I smiled to myself, continuing on, thinking--going over--what I would say and what would happen with our conversation...leaving out the parts where the person leaps at my throat.
Before I knew it, I was within a few feet of the person. I quickly put on my best face and turned to look the person in the face, smiling...and I could have sworn that my heart stopped beating.
I still could not tell what sex or race it was. I don't even think I want to know. It's hair was black and curly, hanging around it's face. Well, I guess you could consider it a face. It's skin was deathly white and cracked. No, cracked is NOT a good word for it, alligator skin is better. I've heard of that condition, there were plenty of people afflicted with it in the freak shows. Alligator men, they were called, but this was not an alligator man, this was a monster. It had a queer smile on it's face, or maybe it's thick lips had just twisted up in that way and got stuck. The limbs within the clothing seemed withered, I'm still not sure if they existed. As bad as this all was, it wasn't the worst of it: the eyes were...or perhaps I should say "lack of eyes". I couldn't see eyes at all.
I nearly ran from that person/creature/whatever the hell it was. My heart raced, I was pouring with sweat, the only thing I could think about was putting at least half a mile between me and that thing.
After a block and a half of running, I slowed myself back down to a walk, there was no sense in dying of a heartattack at a young age in the middle of a dirty street. I walked on, knowing that this trip from Hell would be over soon, but it wasn't. For some reason, I looked behind me. Despite all that I ever saw in the movies, God help me, I looked behind me! It was there. The little creature in the wheelchair. I didn't know how it got here so fast and I didn't want to stick around and find out. I turned around and went back into a full run. I didn't want to think of it there, behind me, pushing itself along, trying to catch up with me...maybe to get itself into a position to launce itself onto my back.
The next seven and a half blocks were a blur and only one thing brightened my day: I was finally at the stop and there were other people--normal people!--waiting there. I finally stopped running to sit myself down on one of the many benches and wait. I sighed (again, not to deeply) and tried to calm myself down...when I looked up and saw it staring at me from across the street. I wanted to scream nearly as much as I wanted to get the hell away from downtown. I looked away to see the bus rounding the corner, heading this way. When I looked back at the thing (don't ask me why I did that!) and--SHIT!--it had gotten closer!
I stood up nearly pacing, as the bus took its sweet time and the creature grew closer. And closer it did come, I noted that everytime I looked up at it. I wanted to really know why the hell no one else noticed this thing!
Finally, the bus pulled up and I pushed past everyone else just to get away from that thing on the street.
I was breathing heavy and I actually sighed deeply (the air was better in here). I was relieved, finally relieved...and safe. I leaned back in my seat and relaxed as the bus pulled off. One last look out of the window and I saw that the street was empty. The creature was gone. I smiled to myself, though I wanted to laugh. I had beaten it!
Just when that thought flashed into my mind, it was washed away. The saliva in my mouth dried up when I felt--even through my T-shirt!--cold, dry cracked hands (alligator hands! my mind reeled) on the back of my neck and smelled foul, warm breath...

Description
Downtown is Hell. You think that I might be referring to the traffic or the amount of rude people, but I'm not. I am talking about people in a way, but not the sort that you care to run into everyday. The streets are filled with vagrants of all kinds; the insane homeless, crack addicts, and the wrongly released mental paitents. A lovely assortment, isn't it? Strangely, somehow, the people are not the whole story of why I call downtown Hell. The air is bad down there. Not only does it stink, but it's stale. No, maybe not stale...there is no air. It's creepy. I'm a grown man and going downtown to catch a bus makes me feel like I'm getting ready to go skydiving...or like someone just dropped a bucketful of ice down my pants. It's that bad.
The major disadvantage of not owning a car in the city is having to catch most of the buses at a depot downtown. See, you can catch a bus from right outside of your comfy little apartment in your nice little neighborhood (like I do. Right from the door of my little comfy apartment in my nice little neighborhood) but to get to the other lines when you're commuting, you HAVE to go downtown. I find myself holding my breath as soon as the skyscrapers are in sight...they look like gravestones from here.
Today, there's a problem. For everyone else on this bus, it's an inconvience. For me, it means worse. The depot is being worked on, so the bus has to let us off on the main street and we actually have to walk to our next buses. If I was prone to panic attacks, I would have one right now. A great big mother-of-them-all panic attack. I'm not worried about walking, I'm worried about walking through a sea of THEM. All of a sudden, images from Night of the Living Dead fill my head and makes my stomach lurch. Part of my brain tried to be rational: They're just unfortunates, there's nothing in the world that should even make me think that they would (or could, even) crowd around me ith the hungry dead eyes, eager to taste my flesh. I was being stupid. that's all.
As calmly as I could, I filed out of the bus behind the other passengers, dreading having to even get of of the bus. The air was foul this time. Pigeon shit and litter covered the ground. I guess using a garbage can is out of the question. Once off the bus, the driver quickly shut the doors and drove off. I swore that I could see a smile on his lips. That bastard.
I sighed (but not too deeply, the air here can kill you) and started walking. Ten blocks to go and the sooner that I'm away from downtown, the better.
I started on my way past the bums and business people alike. I kept my eyes forward, never trying to look ANYONE in the eyes, let alone their faces. I made it through the first block--through the mazes of people and ugly buildings--without trouble, without anything to cause me panic. I was happy, relieved. I was jumping to the worst conclusions about downtown. The last thing I needed to do to get it completely out of my head was to prove it to myself that these were people and not a bunch of zombies from a late night horror movie. But, how was I to do that? The answer was simple, I could just say "hello" to one of the homeless, treat them like they are human. Treat them vetter than most people do. I made up my mind just then: the next person that I'd see that just so happened to be a homeless crazy, I'd say "hello" to them, maybe even give them some of the loose change in my pocket if they happen to ask me for some. Today would mark the beginning of a new life (or a new way of living) for me. At least, I wouldn't be afraid anymore.
You know, a funny thing happens once you've decided to change things or the way you look at things for the better. All of a sudden, the street seemed devoid of life. Doesn't this always happen? Your friend's going to pick you up, so you wait around, looking for your friend's red car...the only problem is that every car that you see going down your block happens to be a red car. That's just what happened now. When I didn't want to see them, they were everywhere. Now that I actually do want to seem them, they're nowhere in sight. I grumbled under my breath and kept walking.
Another half-black down and I saw the first person that I could be nice to. The person was pretty far away so I couldn't tell what sex or race the person was. All I could see was that the person was in a wheelchair and wore blue jeans and, despite the warm weather, a heavy-looking white sweater. I smiled to myself, continuing on, thinking--going over--what I would say and what would happen with our conversation...leaving out the parts where the person leaps at my throat.
Before I knew it, I was within a few feet of the person. I quickly put on my best face and turned to look the person in the face, smiling...and I could have sworn that my heart stopped beating.
I still could not tell what sex or race it was. I don't even think I want to know. It's hair was black and curly, hanging around it's face. Well, I guess you could consider it a face. It's skin was deathly white and cracked. No, cracked is NOT a good word for it, alligator skin is better. I've heard of that condition, there were plenty of people afflicted with it in the freak shows. Alligator men, they were called, but this was not an alligator man, this was a monster. It had a queer smile on it's face, or maybe it's thick lips had just twisted up in that way and got stuck. The limbs within the clothing seemed withered, I'm still not sure if they existed. As bad as this all was, it wasn't the worst of it: the eyes were...or perhaps I should say "lack of eyes". I couldn't see eyes at all.
I nearly ran from that person/creature/whatever the hell it was. My heart raced, I was pouring with sweat, the only thing I could think about was putting at least half a mile between me and that thing.
After a block and a half of running, I slowed myself back down to a walk, there was no sense in dying of a heartattack at a young age in the middle of a dirty street. I walked on, knowing that this trip from Hell would be over soon, but it wasn't. For some reason, I looked behind me. Despite all that I ever saw in the movies, God help me, I looked behind me! It was there. The little creature in the wheelchair. I didn't know how it got here so fast and I didn't want to stick around and find out. I turned around and went back into a full run. I didn't want to think of it there, behind me, pushing itself along, trying to catch up with me...maybe to get itself into a position to launce itself onto my back.
The next seven and a half blocks were a blur and only one thing brightened my day: I was finally at the stop and there were other people--normal people!--waiting there. I finally stopped running to sit myself down on one of the many benches and wait. I sighed (again, not to deeply) and tried to calm myself down...when I looked up and saw it staring at me from across the street. I wanted to scream nearly as much as I wanted to get the hell away from downtown. I looked away to see the bus rounding the corner, heading this way. When I looked back at the thing (don't ask me why I did that!) and--SHIT!--it had gotten closer!
I stood up nearly pacing, as the bus took its sweet time and the creature grew closer. And closer it did come, I noted that everytime I looked up at it. I wanted to really know why the hell no one else noticed this thing!
Finally, the bus pulled up and I pushed past everyone else just to get away from that thing on the street.
I was breathing heavy and I actually sighed deeply (the air was better in here). I was relieved, finally relieved...and safe. I leaned back in my seat and relaxed as the bus pulled off. One last look out of the window and I saw that the street was empty. The creature was gone. I smiled to myself, though I wanted to laugh. I had beaten it!
Just when that thought flashed into my mind, it was washed away. The saliva in my mouth dried up when I felt--even through my T-shirt!--cold, dry cracked hands (alligator hands! my mind reeled) on the back of my neck and smelled foul, warm breath...