Wow. I guess they found a way out. I don't know why I didn't notice the solid-sized hole where the driver was sitting, given how close to it I was. I should've considered the windshield to begin with. [color=f49ac2]Stupid. Get it together.[/color] Whatever. I really need to get out of here. I still need to go get food, which was the reason I was on the bus to begin with. It's not like I can just go back to my fridge like most people. I take a napkin out, wiping down my forehead. The alcohol-ish liquid stings the cut slightly, and I grimace. [color=f49ac2]Well, you know what they say. If it hurts, you know it's working.[/color] I need to thank her somehow. Not with my voice, of course. Not my style.

Naturally, I'm not the type to wait my turn like a good little girl, and I shoulder my way in front of a boy that seems a little older than I am. Shoving my way past, I ignore the hand, wincing as I get yet another glass wound from crawling through the window. Specifically, my leather jacket and tanktop ride up a bit, leaving my hip to get a slight stinging cut. [color=f49ac2]For those keeping track at home, that's three since I woke up,[/color] I think wryly to myself.

[color=6ecff6]"Whoa,"[/color], I murmur upon looking out at the street, for once lacking a snarky remark. The street is as I have absolutely never seen it.

Quiet.

Not silent, mind you, but definitely weirdly quiet. There are plenty of cars; not a lot of them are running, though. It's...[i]strange[/i]. I shiver slightly despite myself, rubbing my aching head, specifically the large red bump on my forehead. [color=f49ac2]I have a bad feeling about this. Something's wrong here.[/color]