She was sitting in the middle of a dead-empty train underneath a florescent light that left many of the spaces around and underneath her in darkness.

If the rest of the lights hadn't been flickering as spontaneously as they were, she would have been able to catch up on some sleep. However, the filthy man staring at her from across the aisle was certainly waiting for her to close her eyes so that he could relocate himself to the front of the vehicle. For this reason, Maeve was thankful that her anticipation was too stressed to allow her to drift off.

The bus jolted to the side before the driver apologized for his panic at the deer that darted across the road. He said that deer were common in the southern part of North Carolina and weren't afraid of walking all over people's lawns in the middle of the day. Was that why he complained about them exposing themselves at night? She believed that he was simply fazed by the fact that he was transporting only two passengers on a smelly old bus with glinting fluorescent bulbs in the middle of a lonely night. The other man didn't seem too concerned though, as he just faced the front with his hands in his lap and his slate-like beard shackling all the way down to his chest. He stopped staring at Maeve when she gave him a good glare and buckled her arms together. He knew he had plenty of time to gaze at her rubberneck attitude.

So she attempted to ignore the grimy man and his missing yellow tooth and instead focus on how happy she would be when she reunited with Perry; the man's eye reminded her of his ego. He had called her in a rush, telling her that she had to come briskly if she wanted another chance with him. He had always been that way, pushing others to their extremes while using their emotions to his advantage. But she didn't care. She didn't want to think about the reason they split. Perry was a sweet guy, she thought. He would never manipulate anyone on purpose. Everything else about him was grey, so she pictured his echoing Australian accent and smiled at the fact that she would be able to hear it again in person in a matter of hours. At least, she hoped that it would only take a few hours. She already spent four of them wasting time with her head plopped in a picture book she smuggled from her old home in Georgia.

A bump in the road made the book fly out of her hands. It slid across the floor until it tapped ever so slightly on the indigent man's foot. Whatever. She didn't need it anyway. That guy already tainted it with his filth. He peered at it for a moment before using his ash-covered shoe to slide it back toward her... slowly and methodically. A simple exchange would have been fine, but she didn't complain. That thing was bound to be thrown out. Both the man and the book.

Silence was interrupted by a voice that wheezed, "Where're you headin'?"

She craned her neck to gape at the guy's face and formed words filled with annoyance. She ultimately didn't know what to say, so she mumbled, "Virginia," in a reluctant state of immediate regret. She didn't want to be more empty-handed than she already was.

The geezer's wrinkly eyes squinted at the sound of that word, and he licked his dry lips, pulling a few strands of his mustache into his mouth with his tongue. Maeve faced the other way again and watched the street signs whip past the bus and create an abstract picture of streaks in her imagination, but she couldn't help thinking about how disgusting the man's seat would be after he arrived at his destination. Someone would have to clean it and disinfect the air before loading new passengers.

She heard the cackle of a lighter and almost gawked at his stupidity of lighting a cigarette in a closed space. She was completely sick of breathing in that nasty gas.

"Want one?" he questioned. "People like you can't go a day withou' this cancer."

"I've never smoked a day in my life," she reverberated.

"Well," he laughed- smoothly, calmly. The seat slowly creaked as he leaned forward and mimicked a hunchback. "You will," he stated with that sickening happy-go-lucky tone. The smirk he then gave her was malicious, as if he had known who she was and what she had done to deserve a messed up relationship. Perhaps he did know all about her. But Maeve knew better than to think acting innocent was mature.

A horn reverberated for a second as the sound of another car passing by surrounded her eardrum. It was quite loud, but quite understandable. It was able to distract her from the situation and remind her of moments passed that never stood up to the same level that her accomplishments had destroyed. Most of her actions contradicted themselves, she believed. But most introverts tend to think that everything contradicts itself in someway. It was her fate to think so. Furthermore, she had a clear view on this fate. Whether or not she denied its existence was unknown to everyone who had ever heard about her, but she knew deep in her mind exactly why her life played out the way it did. That's why she knew that the man wouldn't lay a single hand on her. It wasn't part of his destiny to do so.

But he still spoke to her as if he was making haste and trying to grapple all types of information out of her. His posture revealed a broken back and a sore neck as he rasped, "You don't got no buds to smoke wit'?"

She almost laughed hysterically at that statement, but her pretentiousness kept her from a normal conversation. "I don't have friends, no," she stated. "I'm Icelandic. Got a cold heart instead."

Another bump in the road, and he was by her side, standing in front of the seat directly next to her. His foot scraped the ground in his movements, and Maeve smelt the putrid fragrance of malodorousness approach her. She stiffened her nose in agony and turned up her chin. He was a downright disgusting human being, according to her. She almost wished that she lived in a monarchy where banishing happens from a simple blame and false accusation. Unruly words were the best for the fittest.

The man placed his rotten hand on her shoulder, easily grabbing her desperately needed attention.

"You remin' me of a girl I saw when I served in Vietnam," he whispered. "She was killed."