Bus

She was standing in the rain, with her purple hair stuck around her plummy cheeks. She didn't twitch when rain was dripping down her nose to her lips. Most people would; raindrops do tickle after all. Red bus would stop right by her feet, yet she did not move, her blue eyes staring towards the sky. In her hand, heavy black suitcase, it already formed bleeding marks inside of her hand. Yet she didn't put it down. Her grip was firm, as if she was scared that any passer by may steal it. Her shoes were not new, yet kept in good condition. White, with little stripe on the tip, decorating them in fancy way. With every hour, rain only grew in it's power, and even though her sweater was soaked, she didn't shiver.
Buses would come and go, stop, sometimes not even. People with children, without, old, young, same age as her. Passing by, pouring in and out in rush. Some yelled, others simply had change ready mumbling a quick "hello" to the bus driver.
At some point a young woman in red coat was rushing to the bus, almost felt, you could tell she was crying. You could tell she did her makeup in rush, her hair were not even done.
She jumped in and started to look for spare change.
Bus driver, and old man in hand-made vest looked towards her "you look like her". The girl smiled, clearly not sure of what he was talking about.
He just shook his head, counting the change "Like her, the girl who jumped under the bus last year. She had a suit case, was going somewhere. You have her face." he spoke slowly then tossed change into the box.
The bus roared and puffed large cloud of steam before driving away, as always, into same direction.