I Saw a Child on the School Bus Hitting the Back Window and Yelling for Help

There’s a big storm coming. Please be careful.” I swallowed hard. This storm was nothing compared to the one brewing inside me. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.””Is everything okay? You sound off.” “I’m fine, Mom. Just… tired. I gotta drive, okay? Love you,” I hung up, my throat tight. How could I tell her I’d lost my job just for speaking up to the higher-ups?

They’d used the excuse of “not meeting quarterly targets,” but I knew the real reason.”What’s the worst that could happen now?” I muttered, putting the car back in gear. Little did I know, I was about to find out. As I merged back into traffic, a yellow school bus rumbled past me. Something caught my eye in the back window: a little girl, her face pressed against the glass, her tiny fists pounding frantically. She was crying for help.”What the…? Oh my God… is she alright?” I gasped. Without thinking, I gunned the engine, racing after the bus. The child was clearly in distress, but why? What kind of danger could she be in on a seemingly safe school bus? “I’m coming, hold on, sweetie,” I mumbled, honking my horn repeatedly. The bus driver seemed oblivious, continuing down the road as if nothing was wrong. Panic rising in my chest, I made a split-second decision. I swerved around the bus and cut in front, forcing it to a stop in the middle of the busy road.The driver, a burly man with a thick black mustache, stormed out. “What kinda stunt are you pulling, lady? You coulda caused an accident!” I ignored him, pushing past and rushing onto the bus. The noise hit me like a wall. The kids flocked around the girl, shouting and laughing. I raced to the back, where the little girl sat alone, her face now red and tear-streaked. As I reached her, I froze. This wasn’t what I expected at all.”Oh my God! Are you having an asthma attack?” The little girl nodded frantically, her chest heaving as she struggled for air. I knelt beside her seat, my heart racing.”What’s your name, sweetie?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. She pointed to the ID card hanging around her neck. Her name was Chelsea. “Okay, Chelsea, we’re gonna get you help.