Chapter 6 Squashed head

I ran toward the bus station like crazy; that twisted face of the old gatekeeper kept floating before my eyes; I needed to go back to the village now! That demon did not lie to me. Hardly had I reached the station when I noticed that I had no money with me; weeping, I ran home widely, took some cashes and packed two coats into my maroon backpack; I tried to call my parents, but it wouldn’t get through. I was more worried.

When I strode out of the door, my feet stepped on something. I could not care less at this moment; but while rushing, I looked back and gave it a peek. It was that piece of white jade pendant.

I decided to ignore it, but right away, the jade pendant flew in front of me and blocked my way.
I shouted angrily, "get out of my way! I need to go back!"

That piece of jade pendant seemed not ready to give way, no matter which direction I turned to it floated over.
I snapped furiously at it, "why are you doing this? I have threw you away, why do you even come back! Stop haunting me! Whatever it is, I must go back today! '

It was persistent; I threw my backpack at it but at the impact of my backpack, it remained floating in the air motionless. A man passed me and looked at me with the eyes of suspicion. Obviously, the jade pendant was invisible to ordinary people, except my mother.

I could not and also had not the time to figure out why it stood in my way. As the man walked away, I lowered my voice and said fiercely to it, "If I'm right, what's in my belly is something you valued, you little demon! If anything should happen to my family, I shall die with them, so gone is the thing inside me! And you are the one to blame!”

"You dare to threaten me, I have warned you, once back in that village you could never get out."
Out of nowhere, came the ghost that had been haunting me. The voice came from behind me.
I turned around and looked at him. This time he had put on another different mask, something like a Peking Opera mask, and a thought came to my mind: was this guy a mask freak...

"All I know is that my family is there. I don’t know what will happen to them. I don’t care what will happen to them! I just need to find them! I know you are dead, but you had family before, don’t you? Where is your humanity, gone as you died?” I questioned, looking him in the eyes.

His voice was frosty. "I did not die," he said. "The most troublesome thing about human is the complicated love and emotions. If you insist, I will let you. But still, it was foolish enough of you to want to jump back in that pit of hell after so much trouble I have been through to bring you out."

Ignoring his sarcastic remarks, I ran straight to the station.
What? He did not die? Wasn’t he from the underworld?

With the old cell phone my mom gave, I kept calling her and dad on the old cell but it just would not get through.
Out of the fear that these electronics would affect my studies, my mom cut my access to these smart phones and computers and gave me such an old-fashioned cell phone which could only be used to make calls instead.

Seat on the bus, I was fidgeting all the way, the cell phone was almost dead when it finally got through.
My mother’s voice at the other end brought out all my tears that was held back for quite a while: "Mom, I am begging, come home with dad! Please don't go to the village, don't go back!"

Mother was getting impatient: "Stop it! We would go back in a couple of days."

There were a lot of people on the bus. I couldn't just open my mouth and told her the reason. I could only beg her, "Mom, you just listen to me once; you can't go back to that village."
She hung up the call leaving me in despair. I couldn't get through anymore.

By the time I took the last transfer, it was after 3 o 'clock in the afternoon. Today's rides were not so smooth and took some extra time. The next bus was expected to arrive no earlier than 6 o 'clock pm.

Looking at the scenery outside the window, I knew that I am getting closer and closer to the village, the place that had borne the sorrow and joy of my childhood; four years, it had been four years.

The journey on the unsurfaced road for the next hour was a bit bumpy; the bus suddenly came to a halt with a jolt. Driver had a quick check-up before getting on the bus and said: “something went wrong with the vehicle, it may take a while; I am on it now.”

Anxiety gripped me immediately; it would have been night when I got back in the village;
I was not bold enough to walk alone in the darkness.

After about 10 minutes, I couldn't help but get out to check on the driver who was working with a wrench in his hand and asked, "How long is it going to take before we could get back on the road? I'm in a great hurry..."

The driver took a look at me and said, "I don't know either. Still haven’t figured out where the problem is. That’s strange. We have made a thorough examination before departure..."

I glanced at the old bus and shrugged; such an old rattletrap vehicle on such a rugged road; even a new bus could not stand the bumpiness of such road.

Not long later, the passengers were told to get off the bus, and the driver ducked under the car as if to locate the problem.

I followed the passengers and stood on the side; minutes ticked by, for many times, my thoughts and impulses to go back on foot were shattered by the truth that the distance left would take at least another forty-minute ride on the bus.

But to keep waiting here, I was doomed to walk the mountain road in the dark by myself.

Just when I was still hesitating and anxious, the bus that had been well parked suddenly moved and then rushed forward like crazy. The driver's head was directly crushed by the rear wheels. With the odd sound of crushing, the driver's brain and blood mixed together and dyed the dirt road red.

The bus came to a halt soon after crushing the head of the driver, and everyone was in a state of shock. Some came to their senses faster and called the police immediately. Some poked their head to check on the bloody squashed head of the driver.

All this happened so suddenly as if to try to block my way back. My heart beat violently in fright. I gritted my teeth, regained my composure and made up my mind to walk back to the village; but soon the thought was shattered by the fear that I would end up like the driver as the bus made a move again.

What was wrong with this bus?

After making sure the bus had totally stopped moving, I went on again, deliberately making a long detour.

"More will die if you go on."

The voice of that demon sounded above my head, I looked up, he was floating in the air looking down at me.
It dawned on me that he could also show up in broad daylight, which I hadn't thought of before.
I remembered grandma told me before, most ghosts would not make troubles in the daytime; only those powerful ones, or those who died for years and had reached a certain level of black art could come out in the daytime. But they were rarely seen. So, was this guy one of them?