The Fog Lamp

A dim night, 10:00 pm exactly, you lay your hands on top of a steering wheel. A cold evening, or maybe it is just the cold of the air conditioner’s breath as it surrounds the insides of the taxi. You whistle to the jingles of the radio, same old songs play in a cycle as it turns to commercials then to time checks. You await nothing, but the end of your shift at 11:00 pm. You wish to see your sleeping daughters and sons, but you know your time with your job demands much.

You hear a knock. Before you could react, a figure hastily opened it, came in, and slammed the door shut. How rude, you thought.

“Please, please take me home-- now.”

Truly rude, truly disrespectful, yet with every word there was a shiver.

“Where is your destination? Please be quick, my boss was waiting for me to return the car,” for once, you broke character and conduct.

“To the left,” she said, pointing to the long road in between an alley. You gave a nod, turning your head. Hesitation was in your eyes.

“Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” you quickly muttered.

You decided not to leave this girl on the streets- not this late. You glanced at your passenger seat, and there she was. She looked well off, long dark hair decorated with an intricate pin, an off-white dress made of probably an expensive cloth, and her wrists decked out in bracelets. Wouldn’t this girl have a driver to pick her up? After a few moments of settling in, you mustered courage and turned left into the lightless halls.

“I see you have been very quiet,” she said.

“Well, this place looks unfamiliar to me,” you said trying to ease up your voice.

“I know this place like the back of my hand. On the left was where my friend and I played together. We tumbled down the hillside and played hide and seek. There used to be large trees here, with long, long vines that we used as a swing. Have you ever tried that?”

Trying to focus on the roadway, you failed to reply to her. She sat in stillness, her eyes sighing in what she said. After all her words fell on deafened ears. Your foot leaned on the gas pedal a little bit more, your vehicle’s gears revving.

“I have never swung on a swing before, my mother would spank us.”

“Such a shame,” the girl muttered.

You looked at her side of the window, oddly enough you noticed light purple spots in her hands that slowly climbed up to her shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” you asked her.

“Why do you say so? Why would you care? To be honest, you are quite a creep,” she replied. You were taken aback by what she said, so you kept your curiosities to yourself. Were those bruises you saw? You look straight ahead as you see a parade of trees with swirling roots, covering the night sky, and snuffing the light that your car emits.

A long road ahead. It felt like you have been going on an endless ride, s-curve after s-curve. Your heart begins to beat faster and faster, you feel lost, you feel suffocated. Despite that, you kept your eyes on the road, seeing past the darkness of the night. Your mind still facing the endless cave of trees, you hit the brakes causing your vehicle to screech.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, terrified, as she placed her hand down from the backrest of your seat.

“Cold,” you said, “I felt something cold go down from my back and it-.”

“I guess you can lower your aircon. It is pretty cold,” she said, crossing her two hands. You looked into your control system and noticed that your settings seemed to have been turned off.

“The aircon is off,” you said. She looked at you in shock and confusion. You see her unfold her crossed arms, leaving trails of dark stains along her white dress.

“Are you hurt?” you asked once more, genuinely concerned.

“My boyfriend and I fought,” she said, “I told him to stop, but no he continued to hit me as we were on the road. I- I decided to run and call for help.”

You looked at her, her long hair losing its luster, turning heavy and messy. Her arms now almost cloaked in a dark film, imprinting on your seat covers. She looked sickly and sullen. Did you hurt her? No, you didn’t, you merely stopped the car.

“Why are you telling me to drive up this road? Look, you are bleeding! The hospital is in the other way-,” you said in a rush trying to take a U-turn. You felt one of her hands holding yours in a tight grip, and her other hand breaks. Coldness, rushed from your hand to your spine, a shot of ice through your body as you felt her hands. She let go. They were cold.

Ice cold.

“Thank you for the ride,” she looked at you with her doe-like dull brown eyes. You were stiff and frozen, unwilling to mutter a word to her. You heard a clacking of coins beside you. She was gone. Your mind; however, seemed to wander off. Things here do not line up.

You looked at your right shoulder, seeing if traces of her blood soaked dress remained. You fixed your eyes on the aircon meter- it was on once more, circulating air once more. You found coins, littered on the floor, were they yours to begin with?

You switched on your fog lamps as it filled the cavern of trees with light. A sigh of relief, a life to be snuffed out. Your vehicle ran and ran in the distance, until the balete trees were no longer by your side. A wash of red remains to follow you. You pressed the gas until your car aches, aches, and burns.

Her blood was spilt that night, her wounds cut deeply, turning into petals that decorate her dress. Lovely. Now turn the fog lights on and you will truly see - How do I know this story, you may ask?

Simple, this is my story after all.