The Last Stop

The Last Stop

BY:Khan

The scorching heat weighed heavily on Farah Naz as she stood at the crowded bus stop. The traffic jam had already lasted for half an hour, and the bus she was waiting for was nowhere in sight. Her day had been longer than usual; exams were just around the corner, so she had spent extra time at the library revising her notes.

From a distance, she noticed the commotion on the road. Perhaps there had been an accident. There were plenty of onlookers but barely anyone willing to help. Farah stepped a little aside, weary of the chaos. Just then, the bus she had been waiting for finally stopped—right where she was standing.

Oddly enough, the conductor had also left, probably to witness the accident. Without thinking twice, Farah climbed aboard, grateful for the opportunity. As she secured a seat, she noticed something peculiar: the bus was completely empty.

A strange chill ran through her. Should she get off? Before she could act, the bus jerked forward. Its speed was unusually slow. From the low voices of the driver and conductor, she gathered that the bus was out of order, which explained why no one else had boarded. Her presence didn’t seem to bother them, and the conductor didn’t even bother asking for her ticket.

At the next signal, the light turned red, and suddenly, a group of men rushed into the bus. Fear prickled at her skin. Quietly, she shifted to a seat near the door. The number of men kept increasing, and her unease was justified. The bus dragged on like a tortoise. She decided she would get off at the very next stop.

But just as the bus slowed down in traffic again, two familiar figures entered.

“Firdous Mami!” Farah blurted out in surprise.

Her aunt looked equally startled. “Farah? You?”

A wave of relief washed over her. Firdous Mami had always been very close to her, almost like a second mother. Feeling safer now, she glanced around the bus again. To her astonishment, she recognized many faces among the men. There was Uncle Mushtaq, who even waved at her. She smiled and waved back, amused at her earlier panic.

As the bus crawled forward, more passengers entered—neighbors, acquaintances, even family friends. Among them was Samira, the wife of their neighbor Niaz, holding her newborn, and in the men’s section, her father’s friend, Hafiz Sahib.

Strange, she thought. Nobody seemed to be getting off. It was as though everyone was headed to the same destination—the final stop.

Suddenly, the bus stalled. Uneasy murmurs spread among the passengers. At the driver’s command, the frail conductor tried to push the bus, but he couldn’t manage. One by one, the passengers stepped out to help, and soon the bus roared back to life.

Farah turned to speak to her aunt, but Firdous Mami’s expression unsettled her. Her eyes seemed empty, carrying only a shadow of sorrow. Farah fell silent and stared out the window instead.

At last, the bus arrived at its final stop. The sun was dipping, and the sky had begun to fade into evening hues. Farah reached for her bag—but it wasn’t there. She gasped, then remembered. She had left it in the library. With a sigh of relief, she assured herself it would be safe and retrievable the next day.

“Mami, why don’t you come to our house?” she asked warmly.

“I’ll come… very soon,” her aunt replied softly, before walking away into the fading light.

Farah hurried home, her steps quickening as darkness crept in. The front door was open, and the sound of the television filled the air. She closed the door behind her and entered. Her mother must be in the kitchen, she thought. Her younger brother Shani was glued to his laptop, oblivious to her arrival. She quietly locked her bedroom door, too tired to change out of her uniform, and collapsed onto her bed.

Her sister knocked sometime later. “Ammi, Api has locked her door again!” Shaafiya complained.

Farah smiled faintly. It was a recurring issue—the lock often jammed, and they’d had to call a locksmith many times.

“This girl is so careless,” her mother fretted. “She’s late again. What will I tell Baba when he asks?”

Farah wanted to reassure them, but her body was heavy with fatigue. She drifted in and out of sleep, until a strange silence stirred her. The house was too quiet. She stepped out of her room.

The kitchen stove was still burning. Shani’s laptop glowed, abandoned. The TV buzzed loudly in an empty room. She turned everything off and sat on the sofa, trying to make sense of the eerie stillness.

Suddenly, someone entered.

“Firdous Mami!” Farah exclaimed.

Her aunt’s face was pale, her voice distant. “I’ve come to take you.”

“Take me? Where?” Farah whispered, her heart racing.

“The last stop.”

Firdous Mami reached for her hand. And without resistance, Farah followed.

Soon, her feet felt weightless, as though she were walking on air. She looked down—and froze.

Below, her lifeless body was being carried into an ambulance. Her family wailed, grief etched deep into their faces.

Higher and higher she floated, until Mami gently let go of her hand. In silence, they both dissolved into the vastness of the sky.