Restless Youth
Inside the bus, the children shifted restlessly, their small heads bobbing above the seats as the minutes dragged on, their energy barely held in check. Through the rain, faint murmurs escaped—an indistinct mix of chatter, laughter, and perhaps even unease—but the downpour muffled it all, leaving only hints of what they felt. Watching their growing discomfort only hardened my resolve; whatever was going on, it was affecting them too, and I couldn’t look away.
Restless Youth
Weighing My Emotions
My mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions—worry for Timmy, frustration over the unexplained delay, and a slow-burning anger at whatever unseen force was throwing their day off course. Each unanswered question felt like a puzzle piece hovering just out of reach. My eyes darted between the bus and my phone, fingers twitching with the urge to call someone—anyone—for clarity. But deep down, I knew I was here for a reason, and I was determined to uncover whatever lay at the heart of this strange, unsettling day.
Weighing My Emotions
