A sharp inhale jolted me awake.
The familiar outline of my bedroom ceiling should have been above me. Instead, a steering wheel sat inches from my chest, and a cold window pressed against my shoulder. My neck ached, and the faint smell of old coffee and gasoline hung in the air.
I blinked hard.
This wasn't my room. This wasn't my bed.
Where am I?
Awareness settled in slowly. I was in a car... my car.
Am I dreaming?
A quick slap to my face confirmed I was wide awake.
Through the windshield, a nearly empty gas station parking lot stretched before me. A red LED clock glowing through the station window read 2:31 a.m.
What the hell is going on?
I squeezed my eyes shut and searched for a memory. Home. I remembered being home.
After that, nothing.
I looked down. Mud coated my shoes. Dark stains streaked the cuffs of my jeans. Dirt was packed beneath my fingernails, and a faint scratch crossed my wrist.
The engine was off. A coffee cup sat in the console. My jacket lay crumpled across the passenger seat. My purse beside it.
I dug through it, checked beneath the seats, and searched the center console.
No keys.
But I did find my phone.
Thank God.
Relief vanished when the power button produced no response. The screen stayed black.
Dead.
No keys meant no way to charge it.
How did I get here?
The fluorescent lights of the gas station glowed against the darkness, the only sign of life for miles. With no other options, I climbed out of the car and headed inside.
A clerk stood behind the register, and beside him, a phone sat on the counter.
For the first time since waking up, I felt a glimmer of hope.
Before I could ask to use it, another customer stepped in front of me: an older man arguing about something that seemed completely insignificant. A receipt, a price, a lottery ticket. I wasn't sure. All I knew was that he wouldn't stop talking.
Every few seconds, my gaze returned to the phone beside the register. My fingers dug into my palms as I struggled to keep my composure.
Then, movement outside the window caught my eye.
A dark vehicle sat at one of the pumps. Beside it stood a man, the station lights illuminating just enough of him to make out his outline. Tall. Motionless.
He wasn't pumping gas. He simply stood there, staring into the distance as if he'd forgotten why he'd stopped. He wasn't doing anything threatening, but something about him unsettled me.
Why do I feel like I know him?
Our eyes met through the glass for a split second and my chest tightened. I looked away.
When I glanced back, he had started pumping gas and was no longer looking in my direction.
The customer was still arguing, and the clerk was no closer to helping me. I had to get out of there.
Across the parking lot, a barbershop glowed beneath a lit sign. Open after 2:30 in the morning? That should have felt strange.
Instead, it felt familiar. Safe.
The feeling made no sense, but I trusted it anyway. Without another thought, I left the gas station and crossed the lot.
As I walked, I glanced toward the man by the pump. He wasn't looking at me. His attention seemed fixed somewhere else as he continued filling his tank.
I looked away and kept moving, unaware that behind me, he slowly lifted his head and watched me disappear into the barbershop.
A small bell chimed as I stepped inside.
The shop was nearly silent. A man swept loose hair into a pile beside one of the chairs. He paused mid-sweep as his eyes swept over my mud-caked shoes, wrinkled clothes, and anxious eyes.
“Everything okay?”
The question caught me off guard. I hesitated.
“No.”
The honesty surprised me.
He leaned the broom against the wall. “I’m Ray. I own this shop. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
I told him what little I knew. My name was Seleh. I’d woken up in my car. My phone was dead. Hours of my memory were missing.
Ray didn’t laugh or look at me like I’d lost my mind. He just listened. Calm. Almost too calm. Did lost, panicked girls wander in here often?
Still, my heartbeat finally began to slow.
Ray opened a drawer beneath one of the stations. “I’ve got a charger.”
Something inside me nearly broke.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
He plugged my phone into a nearby outlet. The screen stayed dark, but it was charging. Slowly. Patiently. Unlike me.
For a while, we talked about nothing important, just enough to keep my thoughts from spiraling.
“If you don’t mind me asking, where do you live?”
“Westhaven.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You’re a good bit from home.”
A knot formed in my throat. “How far?”
“About an hour.”
“An hour? Where am I?”
“Briar Ridge.”
The name hit me like a punch to the chest.
Briar Ridge? No. That can't be right.
“You know somebody here?” he asked.
I looked away. “No.”
The answer came too quickly. After a moment, I added, “I haven’t been here in a long time.”
Something shifted in his expression. Not suspicion, curiosity. But he didn’t push.
“You want some water?”
I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll be right back.”
As soon as Ray disappeared into the back room, I crossed to the phone charging beside the mirror. Holding my breath, I pressed the power button.
Nothing.
The screen stayed black. Still not enough charge.
I exhaled slowly, gripping the phone tighter as my gaze drifted to the front window. The gas station glowed across the lot. Quiet. Too quiet.
My eyes searched for the man I'd seen earlier. The dark vehicle was still there. He wasn't.
I scanned the pumps, the sidewalk, the storefront.
Nothing.
Gone.
A chill crept down my spine.
Where did he—
BZZZ.
I jumped. The vibration nearly sent the phone slipping from my fingers as the screen lit up.
A breath I hadn't realized I was holding escaped me. Finally, something was going right.
Reaching out for help should have been my first move, but it wasn't. A voice in the back of my mind urged me to look for clues instead.
There were missed notifications and a few texts, but nothing unusual. Then I opened my photos.
At first, everything looked normal. Screenshots. Old pictures. A selfie from earlier that week. Then I reached the newest images.
My stomach dropped.
Dozens of photos I didn't remember taking. Dark. Blurry. Outdoors. Trees. Mud. Shadows.
I swiped faster.
Then stopped.
One image was clearer than the rest. A figure stood in the distance, watching. Too far away to identify. Close enough to know it wasn't an accident.
I zoomed in.
My grip tightened around the phone.
The silhouette looked scarily familiar.
“Hey.”
Ray’s voice startled me.
He stood beside me holding a bottle of water. “What is it? Are you okay?”
I couldn't answer.
Meanwhile outside the shop window, unnoticed by either of us, the dark vehicle slowly pulled away and disappeared into the night.