Wednesday, April 22, 2015, 12: 29 PM

Sitting in the back of the bus, wrapped up in shock, ‘How did his hand catch fire? Why did it?’

‘Oh God! ‘I whispered to myself, shaking with fear.

“Coooopppers Union. . . Fiiiinaaal stop,” the driver’s voice sang with the melodic ring, more reminiscent of a Coney Island Circus vendor peddling his wares at Grand Central.

I was terrified. The bus was empty, and the bus driver was a few feet away, walking towards me checking all the seats for trash left by commuters. Coopers Union was all the way downtown.

How did he get here so quickly? Where did all the other passengers go? ‘Calm down girl,’ my inner voice implored.

I unconsciously grabbed the diamond off the seat beside me. It was now red, then in a blink, it switches back to yellow. Securing it safely inside my coat pocket, I hurried off the bus, yet vigilantly scrutinizing the surroundings.

In the East Village, I shuffled into an empty seat inside Joe’s Café, totally appalled and confused. My brain was on fire. Shock and fear digging deep inside me for answers to questions I didn’t dare asked myself, or anyone else. I covered my ears with my hands, trying to block out Juan’s blood-curdling scream. It was stuck on replay in my head. I heaved, as the stifling smell of burning flesh engulfed me.