Headlights
It was midnight. Desirae hated traveling
at night, but school didn't let out until after the sun went down, so
she had no choice. To make matters worse, it was Mischief Night. When
she was in high school, Desirae participated in the dangerous, yet,
fun night before Halloween. Every year mischievous teens and children
would play pranks on the unsuspected. She and her friends would never
hurt anyone. Mostly they'd jump out and scare people and egg or TeePee houses. Of course she stopped the tradition when she went to
college and matured. Still, every year before Halloween, she
would get paranoid. After all the pranks she had pulled, pay back was
definitely in store for her.
A Horse with No Name by America blasted
through her speakers as she drove down the lonely, dark highway. She was
enjoying the night ride. It was relaxing to be out there all by herself. There was no annoying congestion of people or cars. It was just her music and her own thoughts.
Just as she was basking in her relaxing ride, headlights shown through her rear view window and nearly
blinded her. She quickly tilted her rear view mirror down. Whoever
was behind her, followed closely. For awhile she ignored them,
listened to her music and paid attention to her own driving.
She had dealt with ass hole drivers
before and she knew the best way to handle them was to either let
them go around or ignore them. However, this time ignoring them wasn't working.
The driver in the truck behind her kept up. Figuring they wanted to
go faster, Desirae pulled over to try and let them go around. To the
side of the road was a Rest Stop. She pulled in, thinking the other driver would keep straight. However, they followed her into the rest
stop. “What the hell...” Desirae said quietly to herself. Fear
was beginning to creep up her spine as her car slowed to a stop.
Maybe the other driver was lost or
maybe something was wrong with her own car and they were trying to
warn her? Suddenly, the rusty door of the old beat up Ford truck
swung open. Desirae watched through her side view mirror as two big,
heavy looking boots stepped out of the truck. A man twice her size
stood tall and where the light would illuminate his frighteningly
tall figure. Desirae was shocked. What could he want? Before she
could receive an answer, her shock turned to absolute fear.
The man, who's face wasn't visible,
let a long and sharp crow bar slide down his hand and into view as he
moved closer to her car. Panicked and realizing she might be in danger, Desirae pressed her
foot on the gas and sped away. Her car kicked up rocks and dirt into the man's face as she left the rest stop. The man angrily ran back to his truck and
chased after her. She fumbled through her purse trying to pull out her cell phone. Keeping an eye on the road and gripping her wheel so tight it
made her hands hurt, Desirae pulled her phone free. She held it out
in front of her and quickly dialed 911, only to hear a loud beeping
in her ear. There was no service. Although she could see the city
lights, she was still too far away to get a signal.
The sound of a loud horn made her
nearly lose control of her car. The man had caught up to her and was
now more persistent than ever. He blew his horn over and over again.
The city lights were getting closer and closer. If Desirae could just
make it home, she'd be safe. Why was this man doing this to her?
Desirae tried to think back through her day and try to remember if
there was anything she had done wrong. Could she have cut him off or
something?
Suddenly, the man switched lanes.
Thinking back to an old Urban Legend about gang members driving on
side of unsuspecting people and shooting at them as an initiation,
Desirae swerved in front of him. He slammed on his brakes, but
continued his pursuit. Once again, Desirae grabbed her phone, in
hopes of getting a signal. Still nothing. She was on her own for now.
If she could just make it to the city, maybe he'll leave her alone?
Finally her Exit came up. Just a few
more miles and she'd be in city limits. Knowing this, the crazed man
following her became more frantic. He blasted his horn, almost to the
point where Desirae thought his horn might die out. He was trying to
stop her before she got into town. He was trying to isolate her.
Determined to not let that happen, Desirae pushed her car to its
limits. Breaking every speed limit law, she sped into the city.
Businesses, and thankfully, other drivers were now all around.
Thinking this would make the crazed man back off, Desirae began to
calm down. However, the man behind her continued to chase her and
blow his horn.
Slowing down slightly, Desirae drove
along side another motorist. She blew her horn and got the attention of a car full of
teens. They looked at her as if she were out of her mind,
as she waved her hands and pointed to the truck behind her. “Call
911!” she yelled. Thinking it was a joke, the teens laughed and
drove off.
“No!” Desirae screamed now in
tears. She had never been so scared. The man behind her was
relentless. Why wasn't anyone helping her? She drove past too many
cars to count and not one of them tried to intervene. Suddenly, it
dawned on her what night it was, Mischief Night. They all probably
thought it was a prank. The police were probably the same. They had most likely been
receiving calls all night from pranksters. They probably wouldn't
even believe her if she called them. She was going to die because of that stupid holiday!
The police station was 10 miles away.
Her family home, however, was only 4 miles away. The other drivers
didn't believe her, the police might not believe her, but her family
would definite try to save her. There's no way they'd just ignore
her.
Desperate to get home and to lose the
man following her, Desirae ran a Red Light and made a quick left
turn. Just a few more blocks and she'd be home. Still so close that
he could be in her back seat, the man continued to follow. His
lights, however, were changing. Before they were just a normal,
annoying bright. Now they were so bright her eyes were burning.
Adjusting her side view mirrors wasn't helping at all. The lights
weren't just blinding, they were painful.
After making another turn, Desirae's
house came into view. The old Victorian house sat at the end of a cul
de sac. Through the blinding lights, it looked like heaven. Just
then, Desirae's phone began to ring. It was her mother. She quickly
answered it.
“Mom! Someone...” Desirae started.
“Desirae, don't go home!” her
mother shouted through the phone.
“What...Why?” she asked.
At that moment, the blinding lights eased
up. Then, within a matter of seconds, the lights and the truck they
were attached to, disappeared. Desirae slammed on the brakes. Her car
lurched to a stop. She spun around and stared out her back window.
The old beat up truck was gone and so was its driver. He didn't u-turn and drive away or turn onto another block. They were on a cul de sac! He just
disappeared into thin air. Just then, Desirae caught a glimpse of
the neighbor. He stood in the window frantically waving his hands and
pointing at her house.
“Desirae, are you there?!” her
mother shouted in a panic.
“Yes.” she answered in shock.
“Stay away from the house! The
neighbor called and said that a man had broken in and he might still
be in there.” her mother told her. “The cops are on the way.”
Desirae stared up at her dark house,
unsure how any of the nights events were possible. She thought back
to all of the people she had passed. None of them saw what she did.
Was she the only one that could the truck and its crazed driver? Just then, her eyes caught something
nearly hidden behind her house. The street lamp lit up a frightening
and familiar sight. Parked behind the house, sat an old beat up Ford
truck...
Copyright
©
2016
by April Thompson
All
rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be
reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express
written permission of the publisher except
for the use of brief quotations in a review.
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