If you see a school zone sign flashing at night, don’t slow down
Personal Note: I’ve heard that eyewitness testimony is usually unreliable. It doesn’t matter how strong an experience is imprinted on the mind, memories tend to be less accurate than we think. For my sake, I hope that’s the case for me. As a Christian, I’m ashamed to admit that my faith has been affected. I haven’t told anyone about my experience, but I have to share it with someone. Thanks for listening.
I looked over at the chips scattered on the passenger seat. The red glow of a stoplight hung in the air and wrapped around my dashboard. I was a little ashamed that I had brought a girl into such a messy car. I could still smell her perfume in the air. The scent of oranges mixed with the burning smell that often made its way out of my 2006 Subaru Outback. I later found out that my car was leaking oil, but car concerns didn’t end up at the forefront of my mind. I knew I was on the phone with Sarah, that I’d be seeing her again the next day, and that’s pretty much as far as my cares went.
The light turned green. The streets were empty, as usual. It was a late night, probably just a few minutes after midnight. I would always make a point to drive a little cautiously at night, because a few months before some idiot ran a stop sign and totaled my car when I was driving home from work. Plus, something about driving at night feels so exposed to me.
Whatever the reason, when I saw the flashing School Zone sign, I instinctively slowed down. It was the sign for my elementary school, right by my house. Kids would always be crossing to the apartments across the street. Only this time, there were no kids, no crossing guard, and no cars to be seen.
“Hey, the school zone light’s flashing”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the light that tells you to slow down for the school zone. It’s turned on!”
“No I mean, why is it on?”
“I don’t know- maybe there’s some kind of event? No wait, the school’s empty”
“Huh, weird. Did you slow down?”
“Yeah”
“But no one’s there?”
“Yeah”
Just then, I heard two short knocks on my window. My heart skipped a beat and I whirled around, but there was no one there.
“Oh my God, that scared the shit out of me!”
The phone crackled with interference, but Sarah responded.
“What happened?”
“I just heard something knock on my window! I’m kinda freaked out”
“Maybe you should-“
My phone beeped with the sound of a hang up. I remember staring dumbly at my phone for half a second. I reached down to call her back.
It was then that I realized that I wasn’t making much progress towards my street, and in a light panic I sped up again. I just wanted to make it home.
My phone kept ringing. Why wasn’t she picking up? It was probably only for about 10 seconds that I followed the school zone sign. But when I accelerated again, nothing seemed to move. I could see the road lines zip past me, but the scenery didn’t change. The elementary school waited patiently behind the parking lot. At this point I started to accelerate out of panic. 50 miles per hour, then 55, 60, 70, 85. My engine roared to life, my wheels were turning. I was flying down the road, but the school was still waiting.
My phone kept ringing. It should’ve gone to voicemail by now. I remember racing down the road in vain like a madman, gripped so tightly by panic that I barely noticed the silhouette of a person standing motionless in the middle of the road.
I felt the impact before I even noticed what was going on. I slammed on the breaks. My engine hummed as I sat. My ears were ringing. My mind raced. I had just hit someone. Should I call the cops? I shouldn’t drive away. Overrun with panic, I instinctively reached for my door. When I felt the click of the handle and heard the car unlock itself, my heart dropped. I was frozen. I knew immediately that I should never, for any reason, open that door. I fumbled with the lock button. When I heard the car click locked, I felt the slightest bit of relief.
The click of the doors also alerted me that the noise of my engine had stopped entirely. I was trapped in cold, undeniable silence, interrupted intermittently by the sound of my phone ringing.
I sat there for a good three minutes, but it might as well have been an hour. My adrenaline induced trance was broken by a scraping sound. It was so soft at first I didn’t notice. It sounded like nails against glass, but it felt like it was on the inside of my skull. When i finally perceived the noise, I caught a glimpse of a dark shape moving in the rearview mirror. Thin, disjointed arms flailed like a ragdoll against my back window, smearing itself desperately onto the smooth glass. I heard a faint groan, barely more than a whisper. It didn’t sound far away though, it was right in my ears, like the sound was playing through airpods.
“H-help— me”
It was a broken voice. I can only describe it as deeply familiar, like it gave me a sense of deja vu.
The scraping continued as the figure pleaded with me.
“You- h-hurt me. P-please- save me.”
I couldn’t even bring myself to turn my head around, but in the rearview I could see the pitiful form of the figure pressing its wretched body across my back windshield. I can’t describe the level of panic I was feeling. All I could do was stay frozen and wait.
My phone kept ringing.
“I h-hear you in there! D-don’t leave me hear to d-die”
The whisper continued deep in my ears.
A distant siren began wailing. I don’t think I even noticed until I saw the flashing red and blue lights in my rearview. Even when the police car parked right behind me, the sirens didn’t seem to get any louder. I saw a tall police officer step out of the vehicle. The distant siren continued for a few seconds after the officer left the car, like a poorly edited sound effect in a low-budget movie.
I tried to rationalize my situation. I had just been speeding, and I hit someone, and now the police were here. I was probably going to go to jail.
I was snapped back into reality by two sharp knocks on my window. I couldn’t make out what the officer looked like, the fog of darkness was too thick to see any details.
I reached over to roll down my window, but then stopped. Something deep in my gut prevented me from rolling down the window.
“Please step out of the vehicle”, the man spoke briskly. Again, the voice sounded like it was coming from my ears. He began knocking again, this time faster and louder.
“Please exit the vehicle! Do not make me use force. You are required by law to exit the vehicle!”
The man spoke in the same way as before, just much louder, like someone had just turned up the volume on a microphone. I covered my ears, trying to block out the sound, but the yelling and the knocking just kept getting louder and louder. Pain shot through my head as the sound kept growing and growing.
“Stop! Please make it stop!” I screamed from the bottom of my chest.
“Make what stop?” asked Sarah, confused. “Are you feeling okay?”
I blinked. The call had come through.
“I- wait. Give me a second”
The officer and the figure were gone. I took the keys out of the ignition, then started the car again. A car honked as it swerved around me. I put the car in drive, and the road moved like normal again.
“I’m fine” I said.
“Why’d you hang up?” Asked Sarah.
I babbled something about being pulled over.
“You mean you got pulled over earlier?”
“No I mean just now.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure you’re okay?”
When I talked about it with her later, she seemed to think she only took a few seconds to pick up the phone, but I know what I saw. It’s easy to just assume I’m going crazy. I’ve never told anyone about this. I haven’t been so keen on leaving the house after that, but I’ve been good at rationalizing it away as some kind of psychotic break. I’ve been out and about a few times in my car, and I was fully ready to move on from the whole incident. But this morning, I noticed the scratches on my back window.