The Drive Home
Story & Illustration by Keona Blancaflor | Grade 8
I dread driving home after a long night-shift. Even before hearing the recent stories of local abductions, I’ve always been fearful about driving at night alone. The weather has been terrible all week. No sun, no sky, no moon shining through the heavy clouds. Even though I’ve driven this road many times, It’s never been quite this dark and unnerving. Exhausted, I turn the radio on to calm my nerves and keep me awake. Through the rain, I see the road-side crosses in memory of those gone missing. The realization of what was lost in each and every single one of them just adds to the eeriness of the night.
Almost home, I jump at the sudden sight of a silhouette making its way across the road. As I get closer, I turn the headlights brighter, and see that it is an old man. He must be at least 80. His back is severely hunched and his skin hangs loose against his facial bones. I wondered what he was doing so far away from town this late at night. I slowed down to get a closer look at him. His head jerked up, his yellow eyes staring into my headlights. Startled with fright, I quickly stepped on the gas and sped past him towards home. I was getting close.
It was getting harder to see as the rain splashed in torrents against the windshield. I squinted to see the lines on the road, the wipers going full speed. All of a sudden I felt the hairs on my neck stand up, as a rush of cold air swept through the vehicle. Sensing movement behind me, I looked into the rearview mirror. Staring back at me was a pair of lifeless, yellow eyes, folds of sagging skin hanging loose on sharp, angular bones. I’m stunned and unable to think or react, so I sit frozen in shock. I can see his hand moving closer to my head. I feel disoriented and step on the gas as hard as I can. No matter how fast I seem to drive, he keeps staring at me in the mirror. No matter how long I look away, he doesn’t disappear.
Seconds, or maybe minutes later, I turn the car onto my street. The old man in the mirror seems to be getting closer to me still. I hear a terrified scream, realizing it’s my own. I feel like I might be going crazy. I stop in my driveway, hurry out of the car, and run to my apartment door, fumbling for my keys. The old man is sitting in the car, staring into the mirror, and along with the night, he soon disappears into darkness.
Drawings by Albert Guzman | Grade 11
Drawings by Albert Guzman | Grade 11