S̶t̶r̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚: 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩

Water patterned against the roof of the bus station, the only light illuminating the dark street was the flickering, dim lamp post.

Four strangers rested at the bus stop, refusing to talk or look at each, silently waiting for the bus.

The first person was a young woman. She wore a long, elegant white dress, which was stained with wet mud at the bottom, and a matching veil. Many would mistake her for a model, with her gorgeous face and perfect figure, however her looks were ruined by the makeup running down her face. Dark smears underneath her eyes, atrocious black lines tracing down to her chin. Her reckless sobs were the only source of sound, alongside the jittering rain. Most individuals would've helped her, made sure she was okay, however the other three people seemed far too caught up in their own problems.

Next to her sat a man, curled up at the end of the bench, refraining from touching the supposed bride's large dress as much as possible. His head leaned up against the side of the bus station, his nose squishing against the glass. Visible bags were seen under his eyes, the scent of alcohol lingering in his breath. Cigarette burns painted at the rim of his jacket, which had a large tear on the side. Any person passing by would've guessed he were drunk; he was.

Several feet away from him, a woman stood slightly outside the bus stop, however her black umbrella sheltered her from the rain. She had a long black dress, with heels that matched the colour. Her stare was locked on the sidewalk, watching the small ripples splashing against the pavement. Her eyes red and puffy, and it looked like she had been crying for hours. Aside from her eyes, she seemed to be doing a decent job keeping a straight face.

The last person would perhaps be considered in the most sane state out of the group. He stood outside the bus stop, allowing the rain to soak into his messy hair. His back leaned up against the cold glass of the bus station. Perhaps most people would think he's a casual guy. But he simply puts on a persona, covering the scars that printed along his forearm.

To the other three people, each one of these individuals may seem nothing but normal. However, each of them are fighting their own battles, all of them equally as harsh. They may think their problems are the worst, but little do they know, these four people may be the closest thing each of them have to relatable.

But they didn't know that. They had no clue, and soon, they would all enter the same bus. They would all get off on their spots, going their separate ways, probably never to see each other again.

Besides, they knew nothing about each other. Apart from the fact they all took the same bus. To each other, each one of them was nothing but a 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.