Short Story 44: The Journey of School Bus Ticket

Short Story 44: The Journey of School Bus Ticket

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My name is Ticket. I’m a small yellow slip of paper, printed with a serial number and date. I was born in a transportation office, then sent to a boarding school to be used by students who ride the school bus every day.


On my first day, a student named Liyana bought me from the counter. She was in Form One, just adjusting to life in the hostel. Her hand gripped me tightly, as if I were the key to the outside world.


Every morning, Liyana would show me to the bus driver before boarding. I became a witness to her daily journeys—from hostel to school, from school to the library, and sometimes to the clinic when she wasn’t feeling well.


Liyana wasn’t just any student. She was the daughter of a single mother who worked as a cleaner. I heard her tell her friends how much she wanted to succeed so she could help her mother. Sometimes, she would stare out the bus window with quiet, thoughtful eyes.


But one day, I slipped out of her pocket. I fell beneath the bus seat, unnoticed. Without me, the driver wouldn’t let her board. Liyana had to walk to school in light rain. Her clothes were soaked, her shoes muddy, but she still showed up to class.


A few days later, another student found me and handed me to a teacher. The teacher recognized my serial number and returned me to Liyana. She looked at me with teary eyes.


“This ticket… holds so many memories,” she whispered.


From then on, she kept me in a small wallet, never again in her pocket. I was no longer just a ticket. I was a witness to her strength, struggles, and determination.


Now, I’m no longer used—electronic systems have replaced paper tickets. But Liyana still keeps me, as a memory. And I know, even though I’m just a piece of paper, I was once part of a young girl’s journey to change her life and honuor her mother’s sacrifices.

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By: Siti Isah Ithnin




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