1001 Horror Story
Ghost Bus
Cold, I put my jacket together. I don't know how many cigarettes I've spent waiting for this damn bus. I saw the clock in my hand showing at 12 p.m. My eyes got tired of looking at the Janti flyover. I've been waiting here for almost two hours, you son of a bitch, no bus ever stops. Mana alone anyway, so a bit of goosebumps, a mixture of fear there are rough thugs the same mystical aroma of Kliwon Friday malem known to the Javanese as a sacred night.
From the west I saw the motorbike slowing down, it seemed he wanted to wait for the bus as well. Raced by a young man with a jacket bearing the emblem of one of the colleges in the north ringroad, he went down while removing his helmet.
“Ati-ati dab!” The motorcyclist turned back while waving his hand.
Not bad, there are together here, at least if there is someone who wants to malak can run in different directions so that the premiums are confused about which one to pursue.
Don't laugh, I'm struggling with people not thinking about the future macem street thugs, a little traumatized also because of the first storm when their thugs just want to throw a knife. If anyone who gets hit will have to deal with the police, he may think he entered custody no problem, can eat for free. If me? Can be beaten by my father!
“Where are you going home Mas?” Sapaku tried to be friendly.
Blah! Proud as this one, how many times I say hello not once he answered, pretending not to be horrified, pretentious busy to see the direction of the bus in the direction of the overpass. This may have been said Simbah in the village, wong Jowo ilang Jowone, already know manners.
Fortunately, not long after the bus came, Sumber Kencono, the legendary bus majoring in Jogja-Surabaya, and this time the bus wanted to stop. Mas Gondrong went up first, eh lha why I just climbed one foot the bus already walk again, really not polite! But maybe it has become a habit, because the schedule of departure between buses that sometimes only 5 minutes difference makes them unable to stop for a long time, worried about the same mepet back.
Tumben only until Janti the bus is full, there is one or two seats with a capacity of three people only occupied by two people but there are no passengers who offer me a seat. More precisely they did not react when I excuse myself to sit down. Blah! The longer the more outrageous these people, accustomed to living alone as possible, have lost all kinds of suave that supposedly used to be one of the characteristics of people here.
Fortunately there are three empty seats on the back bench, no need to excuse me, relief as well, can climb the legs, maybe while klebas-klebus ngrokok to repel boredom later. Caring for the devil the same people will be disturbed or not, wong they are called do not say, should be disturbed also do not protest! Now the important thing is to break first, compensation from standing almost two hours of waiting for the bus.
The bus has gone to the Kalasan area, usually here the conductor has withdrawn payment from all passengers, but surprisingly, there is nothing even though the money I have prepared. Whatever, if later do not pay ya even shaved tho.
Wait a minute, the quiet time of taking the bus at night is common, but it seems like the current one is too quiet. There might be one or two slow babbles heard, but why was the expression of these people so flat? More precisely there was no expression on the face. Even the person next to me felt no presence.
Ghost bus?
Yes, ghost bus. The news agency said this bus had a severe accident and all passengers were killed, when we boarded it all pale-faced passengers and did not pay attention to our presence. It is said that if you take the bus from Jogja can get to Surabaya in less than three hours, but if you are not lucky enough to not reach Surabaya, we are even taken to the middle of nowhere. Worse still, he said the ghost bus was Sumber Kencono who was famous for his speeding.
“Mas, Sampeyan where to go?” I tried to greet the passengers next door, as well as expel curiosity, when there was a ghost bus.
He did not answer, rather reacted like everyone I had been, there was no expression. It's starting to get scary. I tried to pat her on the shoulder so she would respond to my greeting. Damnit damnit! My hand went through his shoulder! He's not real, he's not human!
“Pak! Left sir! I'm down here!” I cried out in panic, but they remained cold with no expression.
Goddamnit! Could it be that I will be carried away to the supernatural realm as people have told me? My hair is goosebumps, my body feels cold. But free panic now, I try to remember the prayers that Sambarah taught me first, damn, forget all!
Almost unknowingly, I grabbed a cigarette, ignited it slowly and sucked deeply to expel the tension.
“Cak, how does the bus smell of frankincense?” The passenger next to me suddenly closed his nose, looked straight at me and asked the man standing at the back door.
“Gak papa Mas, sometimes it likes to smell frankincense. He said there used to be passengers in Janti where there was once again waiting for the bus to die in a storm at the same time thugs, if the mallem Friday Kliwon kayak now he said he liked to take the bus. Kasian, maybe the death is not calm.”
I was overwhelmed, and the bus kept going.
**SAI**
