Mr Jamestom's; Famous Museum of History and Horror

 Chapter 5:

" I don't know. I've seen your kind before, but I don't know what to do with you." the accusing bus driver driver told me.

"So, basically, you're telling the students in the bus here that I'm causing all this mayhem and giving these maniacs swords and shields to kill me with, but alas, you have no idea what to do about the situation at hand. Bravo, bravo, for I commend you for your quick thinking and intelligent planning." I sarcastically congratulated in the still dark, tilting bus, flowing round and round, with friends holding friends.

But this situation clearly wasn't silent and still. Girls were screaming volumes in the poor guys sitting next to them ears. In fact, while they were panicking, the bus was moving in numerous ways it shouldn't, no one had the strength to sit in their seat or even stand. They were specks sprinkled on the floor in a mismatched pattern, one person on top of each other, stacks of rows of poor 9th graders who were expecting to just go on a boring, short field trip.

Then, the wise driver spoke, " Every year, one person from your kind shows up. What I usually do is to let your kind take the wheel and navigate us to the museum."

" Excuse me?"

"We need you to take us there"

" So you don't know where the museum is?"

"Only you know"

"What kind of field trip IS this?"