To be honest with you, I don't know where it's going. I only remember faintly the click of the seatbelt, and the next second it's the wind on my hair and we're going three digits-fast.

What are we doing? Where are we going? I still had scratches from the last bus stop I stayed for a little too long than my friends advised. I did overstayed my welcome though I know the roof's half-mast—but in my defense, a girl's gonna need shelter from time to time.

I chew on the cherry. Its juice leaking up to my tongue. I didn't tell you this, but don't pin me as being too sweet when Cherry's how you taste everytime our petals link up. I think you'll be surprised again. You don't know a lot about yourself, it's almost funny.

Hmm. I look up to the cloudy, heavy sky. Trust, I'm folding my legs up and curls on a two-people-sized bench of this deserted bus stop going to a place without a name.