I have had too many cocktails with my friends tonight, when my vision started to blur from the intoxication, I decided to stop and go home. Everyone uses Uber, right, so even after my friends insisted on dropping me home, I refused and ordered an Uber. I just wanted to go home. My app dinged with the name James. I loved that they let you know the name of the person picking you up. It makes you feel like you
have a sense of familiarity with the person. I could barely stand when the black car pulled right next to me.
Oh thank god.
I jumped in the back, buckled up, and we set off to my destination. Before the car started, I heard the locks click and didn't think much of it. Water bottles were placed in a cooler pack in the middle seat, along with a tray of snacks consisting of granola bars, Jolly Ranchers, etc. I loved it when the drivers did this. I would give them five stars, especially after a night of drinking. Those water bottles were gods. I dug through the pile of snacks and tossed a candy in my mouth.
Hey James, do you have any good tunes? He didn't respond. Indeed, he heard me, or maybe I was drunk and slurring. I piped up again, this time louder. After clearing my throat, James, excuse me, He looked at me through the rear view mirror. Sure, he answered in a cold way, and turned on the music. James finally began to speak up after a few minutes of awkward silence. You've been drinking tonight? I looked out the side window and.
Replied, yeah, just a few drinks.
Now. His eyes were stuck on the rear view mirror. One hand was on the steering wheel as he kept us steady on the road. I could tell that he was trying to catch glimpses of me without me noticing. He spoke up again, this time with a grin what did you drink tonight? Bored with the dragging of the ride, I figured this was innocace, small.
Talk, well, some bears and a few shots of you know what.
He sat up in his seat, one arm still on the wheel. Those deep brown eyes kept flickering at me in the rear view mirror. Almost every couple of seconds. He started to pry, you drink tequila often? I casually replied, while I kept my eyes out the window.
Sometimes depends on my mood.
He laughed, So you must be feeling drowsy. Huh. Now I started to feel uncomfortable. Why was he questioning my level of coherence? I kept my eyes focused out the window because I was getting creeped down. Ummm, nope, just a little relaxed. He kept a tight lipped smile and then spoke, you want to be drunk, though I have a bottle at tequila back there. I stared at my phone. Just five minutes more till I was home.
No thanks, I'm actually good.
He had both hands on the steering wheel now, gripping it tight and rubbing his hands against the leather. This nervous feeling rose in my gut. And I know they say never to ignore your gut feelings. But I was already in the car with this guy. I was a few minutes from my house. What was I supposed to do? I sat there and kept my eyes glued to the window. Perhaps he would just get me home without suggesting anything inappropriate if I didn't show any interest in conversing with him.
Whatever I was doing seemed to work, because he changed his tune through his following response, So you're done partying? For the night. Huh responsible. I let out a short chuckle and agreed with him, I was being responsible. He piped up again, this time more friendly than before and less interrogating. Well, help yourself to the water, I have plenty. My heart started to slow, and I realized that he was just trying to earn that five star review by
being accommodating. He may be trying to be excellent. He has all these snacks and drinks in his car and free alcohol. Perhaps he was trying to get his Uber score up. He may have a family at home who's trying to provide for Was I being too judgmental? I silently scolded myself for the intrusive thoughts. I grabbed the water bottle, twisted the lid off, and took a couple of gulps. I saw the turn from my street ahead, and a rush of relief washed over me. That is,
until he passed it. That's right, he ultimately passed my street. I sat in my seat, screwed the lid back on the water bottle, and spoke up, Hey, you passed my street. He didn't say a word, only smiled, Hello, you passed my street. What he said next made my heart jump into my throat. I know, wait, what why didn't you stop?
Then?
That's because you aren't going home tonight. My body started to shake. I immediately opened my app to report him and call for an emergency when I got the biggest shock in my life. The uber I ordered before getting into his car has charged me for making him wait and then not showing up. This means the car I'm in right now was never my ride home. My shaking hands slowly went to the door handle, but but it was stuck. Why isn't wait, this isn't stuck. Something is
the doors won't open for me inside I've activated the childlock. Suddenly, he stopped the car in the middle of the empty street and turned back at me with a huge knife.
What you know, Please don't do this.
The story you just saw is loosely based on the tragical death of Samantha Josephson. Twenty one year old Samantha got into Nathaniel Rowland's car after a night out in Columbia's Five Points entertainment district. She mistook his car to be her Uber ride that would take her back to her apartment. Halfway down the journey, Samantha started suspecting Roland's odd behavior, but it was already too late for her. She found herself trapped inside the car as Roland had
the child proof locks on her body. Has later found with one hundred and twenty stab wounds in remote woods, sixty five miles from Columbia. No outright motive for the killing was suggested by prosecutors during the course of Roland's trial, but Judge Newman said the killer was totally heartless. When the news reporters questioned about Roland's motive, the top prosecutor, Byron Gibson said it was absolutely a random act of violence.
In college, I started working as a bike rider for Ruber around the town. I would drop off young students like myself at an affordable fair. It was a new thing at that time. My busiest time was helping my friends sneak out for parties in the middle of the night who had wealthy parents paid a lot. Sometimes they would invite me to the party as a friendly gesture. I had this one friend called Aston, who got caught
throwing parties in his parents' absence. So the next time Aston's parents went for a trip, they sent Aston to stay with his grandparents. Who lived on the outskirts. On a Saturday night, Aston rebooked me to pick him up from his grandparents' house. He texted me the address in detail and told me to be there around eleven thirty. I agreed. It was late November. I finished my dinner and was headed for the address. The house was pretty far and the way to reach it could have been better.
The road was terrible, with so many bumps. There was no street light throughout the entire drive. I had to rely on the light of my bike. I remember asked in mentioning a turn for a shortcut. The cold air was poking straight into my lungs, even after all the layers of clothing. I drove for fifteen minutes but couldn't find the turn. Slowly, I began to realize that I was lost. Eventually, when I hit a dead end near an old house, my realization became a fact. I stopped the bike and called asked.
In where are you, dude? I think I'm lost. Man, the GPS needs to be fixed here. You gotta guide me. Where are you now? Can you tell me a landmark? Uh, there's an old house on the side of the road. You missed the turn back, take a U turn, and then take the first ride. I'll be on the call with you.
I went to make a U turn when I saw something on my left. It appeared to be a shadow in the front yard of that old house. I had no clue someone was standing there and watching me. The shadow was very close to the road.
Oh shit, some guy standing in his front yard looking at me. I'm probably wondering why the hell I'm just sitting here at the stop sign.
The app showed that I had been stopped at the stop side for about five minutes, so I could imagine I seemed sketchy. I began to turn my bike left. My headlights illuminated the shadows end. My headlights revealed an old lady standing there with her hands folded as if she was praying. She looked up at the sky and her mouth moved quickly. I couldn't make out anything she was saying at a home. All I heard was her creepy, hurried whisper. Her mouth was just moving one hundred miles
an hour. She seemed like she was in a trance. She was five feet from my bike. I sat there and stared. It was probably ten degrees outside, and she was wearing a white dress. My headlights were directly on her, and she didn't even look at me. I didn't know what to do precisely. At first, I was concerned for the old lady, but the more she stood there, the creepier everything started. Aston realized I hadn't said anything for a few minutes.
Dude, are you still there? Yeah, this old lady is just standing here. What is she doing? She's just just praying right by the road. What the hell it's past midnight? Is she okay? I think so. I don't know. I really don't want to ask.
She started moving her upper body back and forth like she was possessed. I was scared to move ahead, thinking she would run in front of my bike. As I slowly drove by, having her inches away from me, my heart beat slowly. She stil didn't budge her mouth, never stopped mumbling.
Wait, is this the house with the red door?
That's when I first noticed the dim lighthouse porch. Yes, the house at a red door, which looked.
Od Yeah, I've never seen any house like this. Just get the hell out of there, man. The woman who lived in that house hung herself in the attic a week ago.
My stomach dropped and I quickly looked at the lady, but but she wasn't there. I began sweating in fear. I clearly remembered seeing her a few seconds ago, or did she go there? I felt the back seat being pushed down, like somebody had just sat on the bike behind me. Two pale, skinny hands slowly wrapped around my waist. I never felt this cold before. The hands were freezing
like ice. My trembling face moved slowly. I looked at the side mirror attached to the bike handles, and then all of a sudden, her head tilted to the side, making a breaking noise, and I saw the bone inside her neck pierce out from the corner, and then she disappeared into thin air. Ah. I stumped on the gas pedal about ep until I got close to town. When I arrived at Aston's I told him everything I saw. We were both in disbelief. Aston didn't go to the
party that night. He let me crash at his grandparents place, and I caught a high fee for that night. I kept having bad dreams for a week after that incident. Now I take a different way to Aston's Grandma's if I go there at night. Remember, don't stop for the old lady if you guys stumble upon the same neighborhood. The story you just saw is loosely based on this footage running around the internet, and the footage you can see a guy driving through a remote location in the
middle of the night. The man was completely relaxed and seemed to be enjoying his late night ride. When he spots something beside the road, he passes too quickly, but if you look carefully at the footage, you can see a woman wearing a white dress standing on the side of the road. Once the man notices this suspicious woman standing alone in the middle of the night, he doesn't hesitate to slope down at first, but as he gets closer to her, you can see him suddenly pick up
speed and move past her quickly. Lucky that he didn't stop that night. There's no follow up on the footage on whether that woman was a demonic spirit or a crazy woman with some scary intentions. What do you think? I've been driving uber for about a year now and never really had an incident, except for that one time when a drunk student tried to punch out my backseat window on a Friday night, but we've all been there. But this particular incident is the only reason why I
put an end to this job. Twelve thirty am on a Monday. Out here, it doesn't matter what night it is. People are out and about and you barely have to wait long for a ride. I was parked near the sidewalk when I got a request pick up Pamela, located zero point four miles away. Let's do this, Pamela. I arrived at the address given, but no one was outside,
not unusual. I began messing with the radio and getting the ox cord set in case Pamela wanted to play some sweet Jams, and that's when the rear right door opened. I looked back, and I was confused right away. Pamela was old like the early eighties. At least ought to see someone in this demographic this late, but I've had others in the same age range, so I ignored it.
So how's it going tonight, Pamela.
I asked. She didn't answer. She struggles in and shuts the door behind her. I glance in my rear view mirror to study her face. Nothing but blank looks in her eyes, almost as if she just woke up from a coma and can't decipher what's happening around her?
Where are we headed tonight?
Again? No response? Can she even hear me? Does she not speak English? Then my phone be new destination entered seventeen hundred North Lock Street Avenue. I shrugged my shoulders and started the engine. It's a short car ride, but I thought to try again.
Are you from Los Angeles?
I glanced in the rearview mirror, and she stared at me. Her gaze was sharp enough to pierce my soul. In a deep, shrill voice, she finally spoke, why don't you just take me to the address?
Okay, I get it. I'll just drive you to your destination.
We're ways off from the destination she entered when she spoke again, drop me off at the next corner. I looked up in the rearview mirror, her eyes still on me.
Are you sure we're still a monk? I'll stop at the next corner.
The way she snapped at me felt a little insulting. Now, all I tried to do was be polite, But some people don't deserve the good in you, right? Sure? I wanted her out of my car, so I was happy to oblige and stop. I pulled off on a quiet corner a few blocks off of Flock Street Avenue. I slightly turned my head to look over my right shoulder, saying.
Have a good.
But as I turned, she was right beside my face, leaned up and between the seats, just inches from me. I froze. I couldn't speak. My scared eyes were stuck onto her pale, white eyeballs. I've never encountered such dead eyes. Before she started breathing heavily. I could hear the gargle of wind struggling to pass through her throat and lungs. I don't know how long we kept staring at each other like that, But then she tried to listen to something.
Pamela, is everything all right?
She put her hand on my shoulder. Her touch was ice cold. I was wearing my hoodie, yet still her fingers chilled my bones. Her eyes were completely white, now wide open, like her pug had rolled up in her head. I began fearing for my life now. Before I could say anything, she whispered, creepily, take the stairs tonight. I stared back at her.
Sorry what She didn't repeat herself.
She just exited my car. I sat there watching her slowly waddle away into a beat up apartment building and then disappear inside it.
Okay, what the hell just happened?
I was in no position to take rides that night. I turned off the app and drove back to my apartment. When I reached my building, I sat in my car for ten to fifteen minutes trying to figure out that weird lady in her words before leaving. When I finally calmed down, I stumbled onto the entrance of my tenth floor apartment. I've recently shifted to this apartment for its cheap rent. Being an old building, the landlord needed help to increase the rate. The facility desperately required repair. The
landlord didn't care anymore. I lived on the sixth floor, so I walked up to the elevator. I pressed the button, and slowly the number plates started to change.
Gash.
I jumped, screaming. No one was around. Then Hoop whispered into my ear. Just now did Pamela follow me home? Maybe she's some old cycle woman whose stalks are praying. I couldn't wait for the elevator. I sweat started to curl up on my forehead. I rushed upstairs and almost crawled like a four legged animal. After a point, I constantly looked back to see if anyone was running behind me, but all I saw was pitch black darkness. When I got to my apartment, I slammed the door behind me
and sat on the floor. I was having difficulty breathing. Suddenly I heard it huge collision, like something had collapsed on the ground. The fire alarm started ringing and people were screaming. I opened my door and saw other tenants staring at the hall and talking to each other in a panic.
Hey, what happened? The elevator looks like it malfunctioned and broke down, crashing straight to the ground floor.
What my jaw dropped? But everyone thought I was only shocked like them. No one knew the actual reason for my surprise. The landlord was charged for the risky management of the building, and the tenants called the cops, fearing for their lives. Everyone was angry at the landlord for being irresponsible. Only I remained silent. I was just stunned to be alive. When the cops took the landlord away, I overheard you tenants.
Saying, remember that once he said he fixed it, but still missus Miller died. Yeah, dude, the poor lady got smashed. Even imagine how horrified she felt when the elevator crashed with her in it.
I asked, feebly, who who are you talking about?
Pamela Miller, the woman who lived in your apartment before you. She died in this same elevator, but the landlord somehow managed to get away with it. But not this time. I still visit her grave sometimes, God bless her.
My head was banking Pamela Miller? Did I just? I fumbled as I asked the last question.
Where's her grave? Not far that cemetery on lock Street Avenue.