In Downham I hear teenaged boys and girls, queuing to get on the bus. I hear the screaming roar of the pupil of the school shouting and screaming as they shove the people out of the way. As the bus 208 approaches you can hear the screeching, rusty brakes as they are being pushed by the rusty European looking bus driver. As the bus door opens a swarm of teenagers run as fast as they can, fighting and battling into the bus as they are trying to be controlled by the member of staff from the school.

As the bus accelerates to its next bus stop, we approach a zebra crossing, and an enormous amount of students cross the road we wait and wait as the bus driver becomes inpatient and angry as the color of his face becomes bright red, and aggressively drives past the zebra crossing like a cheetah hunting its food.

As I was on the bus the stench of sweat taking over the aroma of the bus as some releases there methane. The irritating sound of blackberry’s going of 24/7 giving my old head and headache. As the bus stops suddenly the people and school children lose control and drop like domino pieces. As the next major bus stop approaches the bus driver becomes unconscious while people who can drive on the bus starts leaping towards the steering wheel before we crash into a unbreakable building before we end up all injured after all this an old tall thick body builder smacks the unoiled brakes the saves us from become dead meat while we all call 999 in case any one was hurt or