A Roadside Story

“Okay, let me preface this with the fact that this kind of stuff seems to happen to my family a lot. My mother, a nurse, will tell stories of seeing a little girl wandering her hospital just before people die. People getting a ‘last wind’, meaning that they come back for a short time after they die, as if to give their family some comfort. Real-life horrors like a man who had come in off of the streets and plainly asked a doctor if he had ever noticed how hard it was to cut through bone, to which the doctor asked what he went and was shown the mans finger, still on his hand, which he had been cutting away at for what could only be assumed as a long time and was down to the bone. 

But, all of this aside, the only unexplainable things that ever happen to me seem to be paranormal, which I am incredibly thankful for. Now, by no means will I say that I’m extremely brave, but i’d like to think that I’m not a complete wuss. But, what I’m going to tell you still, to this day, freaks me out endlessly. 

My mom, great aunt, grandmother and I had been on a trip to the mountains to see the flowers bloom. Clearly, my thirteen-year-old mind wasn’t entertained by three middle-aged to elderly women in a car for two days for that long. Of course, there will always be the random shit that they’d say that they shouldn’t have, like my grandmothers apparent early love for a guy in her tiny hometown that drove a motorcycle and smoked. All of that said, I can safely say it want the worst trip I’ve ever been on.
After dropping them off at my grandmothers backwoods house, my mom and I started the hour and a half journey home. It got dark quickly but my no-bullshit mother made me feel safe as she’s been known to control raging men in her hospital. We started down a road i’d been down thousands of time, one that, during the day, is gorgeous. Golden corn stalks line the right side of the dirt road hundreds of rows deep. Occasionally, there are little paths through the corn, you know, standard. On the other side of the road, the only thing you can see is thick underbrush and tall oaks. 

We were listening to the radio and having a random conversation when, suddenly, we noticed a truck in front of us. We slowed down, figuring that we had just been driving a little quicker than we thought we were. I noticed that the truck had no license plates, but I want really surprised. Again, my grandmother lives in a backwoods middle of no where hick town, so seeing a truck, normally used for farms, with no license plates normal. He slowed down and pulled to the side of the road next to a drive way but, oddly, didn’t pull fully in. His car came to a complete stop, far from the mailbox, and he turned it off but kept the lights on. My mom tensed, her hands gripping the wheel tighter. I heard her mumbling that she would hit him if he came towards us, that she wouldn’t be scared to hit him. Slowly, she gave the car some gas, creeping slowly past the truck. 

Now, I swear when i tell you this it wasn’t a product of my imagination. It wasn’t because I was tried or because I was scared. I swear to you that this is exactly what I saw. 

As we passed the truck, out of pure fear of letting the man out of my sight, I turned and watched him as we passed. When I looked in, his lights were on and he was staring at me as if he was memorizing my face. I must have took in a breath, because my mom slammed on the gas, rocks flying behind her little red minivan. Still, I couldn’t take my eyes off of his truck in the rear view mirror. He turned it on, and without stopping, he drove directly into the field. 

When we stopped to get gas my mom had to beg me to get out of the car in the dark parking lot. We drove home in near silence, and, when we got home, I silently went up stairs and went to bed. 

I still think about that guy pretty often. I find myself wondering if he really was memorizing my face and, if so, why? Was he crazy? Was he planning something? What if my mom wasn’t as street smart as she is? What if she hadn’t sped up? Why did he go into the field?

I don’t have the answers, but what I do know is that my mom absolutely refuses to drive with just the two of us in the car at night in sparsely populated areas.
And who knows, maybe he was just being kind and letting us pass him so he could pull into the field without interrupting our commute. Honestly, I hope that’s what it was. 

I often wonder if i’ll ever see him again. 

I hope not.”

By: @bethasaurousrex