The Boy with the Yellow Book Bag

He never told me his name, and he looked way too… well, normal for me to ever remember his face. I remember that his bookbag was yellow. And I remember the look on the face of the man he killed. That is something I’ll never forget.

It was last Friday morning, and I was on the school bus. I have always been the last one to get picked up, so I was surprised when we stopped again and picked up another kid. The boy got on the bus and even though there were empty seats; he sat right next to me, holding his yellow bookbag in his lap.

“Hi, my name’s Jake.” I said, trying to be nice to the new kid, but he just stared back at me without speaking, or even moving. He looked like one of those zombies from that TV show.

There was a twitch in his face and the boy with the yellow book bag finally focused his eyes and looked at me. His dead face exploded with life and in half a second, the boy was as expressive as a clown. His smile stretched from one ear to the other and there was something in his eyes, like a shimmer of flame.

“Hello Jakey.” said the clown.

“I’m twelve. How old are you?” It was the standard set of questions I asked almost every kid I met, but before I could finish, I regretted ever introducing myself. Striking conversation with this boy was a bad idea, and I had found out the hard way. I could see the flame in his eyes swirling like a tornado of wildfire as he leaned in close.

“I am much, much older than that. Jakey.” The boy started giggling. It went on for what felt like forever, never getting close to a laugh, just “hehehe” on a loop.

I was already freaked out, but the giggling scared me. I looked around for someone to help, but that’s when his head snapped around. He wasn’t giggling anymore. He wasn’t even smiling. He was dead eyed and staring at me again.

“Do you want to see a trick?” The boy asked without blinking.

“I uhh… I don’t think I do.” I was stuttering and could feel my eyes filling with water. I wanted off that bus. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I was too scared.

“Oh, Jakey Boy. You don’t want to miss this one. I promise you that.” The boy’s eyes drifted from my face and to the bus window. He pointed a finger and said. “Look”

Outside the window I saw a man, the man. He was walking with a big black dog on a leash. It was a sunny morning and the two of them looked happy. The moment I saw him, they both stopped walking. The man looked at me and he got down on his knees. 

Immediately, the dog turned around and started to attack, ripping at his shoulder and face. The man didn’t even react. He just sat there with his arms down by his sides. The big black dog had a mouthful of the man’s neck when the bus turned a corner.

I was crying when I turned back from the window. The bus was almost to the school and the seat beside me was empty. The boy was gone but, on the floor in front of the seat was his yellow book bag.

I didn’t find any news about the man until Monday, but it was there - MAN KILLED BY BEST FRIEND. The article was short on details, but it was enough. It was proof. It really had happened, and that man had really died. In a way, it made me feel better knowing that I hadn’t hallucinated that part.  

I don’t know what to say about the boy. I don’t really know what his deal was, but I know he was real, too. I have his book bag and sometimes, when it’s late at night, I hear him giggling.