It was a late Wednesday night, you was coming home from work on the bus, the bus was filled with strangers, you stood up, holding onto the bar that was head level with you, you heard a sweet voice beside you

Child:"Daddy...I don't feel well" the child spoke, as her dad held tightly onto her, his broad Scottish accent rolled off his tongue

Soap:"I know sweetheart, just hold on..." The father said, people beside him moved away, not wanting to provide help or catch what the child had.