Fast Food Horror - Season 2 Episode 3 - The New Kid

A new kid at school learns a very creepy lesson

Episode Transcript

(00:06):
Welcome to fast food Horror. Inthis episode entitled The New Kid by E.
J. Miller, the only thingworse than being the new kid is

(01:04):
being the new kid. A fewmonths into the school year, friendships have
already been made, cliques have beenformed, the entire social hierarchy has been
established. You have no idea whatthe drama is and who not to associate
with because of their past or veryrecent flops. It's a social mindfield where

(01:26):
one false step could make you thenew joke, and you have no idea
who is safe and who is notunless unless you just choose not to associate
with anyone at all, stay offall radar to escape everyone's attention. Such
was my life two weeks into myjunior year and my new home at Washington

(01:49):
Irving High School that November. Ihad a routine attend my classes, try
not to get anyone's attention, whichincluded the teachers, and just go home.
My grandpa would pick me up atthe end of eighth period on his
way back from work in his rustbucket of a work truck, so that
left me to just take the businto school in the morning that rolling hellscape.

(02:15):
The bus would pick me up atthe corner before the sun could even
be bothered to come up. Eachmorning, I'd make my way past the
driver, who never said anything tome, Thank god, he just sat
there blankly looking straight ahead. I'dmake my way down the dark red emergency
lit aisle to a seat towards theback, passing rows upon rows of faces

(02:38):
who never looked up to even acknowledgemy existence. Ah the way of teenagers.
I'd throw my bag into an emptyseat and drop in after it and
curl up, scrolling through TikTok andInstagram until we got to school. Then
get off the bus and start myday. This was my routine every day

(03:00):
for two weeks until that Friday.It was pouring and cold out a dreary
November ice shower. Another degree ortwo lower and it would be snow.
All I wanted was to make itoff the bus without getting drenched. As
soon as the bus stopped and thedoors opened, I made a mad dash

(03:21):
to the front of the bus,then made a bee line to the front
doors of the school. Halfway throughmy sprint down the walkway towards the school
doors, I realized I left mybackpack on the bus. I frantically turned
to go back to my bus,almost losing my footing on the wet pavement
as I spun. It wasn't there. The big yellow bus I had just

(03:46):
left, not more than ten secondsago was gone. Not only wasn't the
bus there, none of the otherstudents were behind me. I was the
first one off. There should havebeen forty other students filing into school right
after me, but it was justme standing in the rain. The bus
didn't pull away. I looked upand down the road. Nothing. I

(04:11):
stood there in the rain, wonderingwhere it could possibly have gone. When
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the old security
guard looking at me with concern.You okay, he said in his graveled
base. I my bus. Itwas just here. I left my bag
on it, and okay, letme help, he said, happens all

(04:35):
the time. What bus number wereyou on? And I can call it
back? Said seventy two, Icroaked out, seventy two. All right?
Are you sure it was seventy two? Yeah, I replied, seventy
two. I've been taking it fortwo weeks. Kid, that's not funny,

(04:58):
he said, What bus number wereyou on? Seventy two? I'm
not sure why that would be funny, he cut me off. Listen,
he said, with more speculation thanconcern. Maybe you got your numbers flipped.
Maybe you're a little confused. Itcouldn't be seventy two. No,

(05:18):
it was seventy two. Picks meup every morning. I'm not wrong.
Well it couldn't be, he replied, with a little more sternness in his
voice. And why couldn't it be, i asked, with the annoyance of
having lost my bag and now standingin the freezing rain. I'll tell you
why it couldn't be seventy two,he let out a long sigh. Ten

(05:43):
years ago there was a rollover accident. No one knows what caused it.
Bus full of students. No onesurvived, not the driver, none of
the passengers either. It was ahuge town tragedy. Bus seven twenty two.
They've never reassigned the bus number outof respect for those lost. That's

(06:05):
why it couldn't be bus seventy two. Unless you rode in on a ghost
bus. Yeah, that must beit.