I look through the window at the child slowly disappearing down the driveway.  I press my hand against the window to clear the foggy wetness.  Who could that be and why didn't they get on?  I wish I didn't have to go to school anymore.

There I go again.  I'm lost and seeing myself through the bus window from the side of the old country road.  How could this be happening to me again?  I see myself press my hand on the window as the bus drifts down the road toward the highway.  What do I do now, I think to myself.  How do I get back to me.  I look down the long winding road again to see if I can still see it but no I'm already gone.

RATE THIS BRANCH!