|Old Oak Boulevard
Author: OneLastEndeavor PM
A ghost story...kind of. actually, there are no ghosts...it all depends on different peoples' interpretations of it...umm...just RR!Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Horror/Suspense - Words: 1,612 - Published: 02-01-05 - id: 1823423
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Beep, beep, beep. The sound of the cell phone startled May as it rang shrilly throughout the cold night. May's shaking hand picked up the phone and she gasped when the bright blue screen showed her the one name she least expected to see: John. Shivering in the bitter cold, May answered the phone.
"Hello?" she said, her teeth clunking against one another. She only received static.
"Hello?" she said again. This time, she could hear the faint noise of a voice, speaking softly, almost whispering.
"May-May-get out. Get out!" the voice said.
"GET OUT!!" the voice said so loudly, it left a shrill and uncomfortable ringing in her ears. Her heart pounding May turned off her cell phone and sighed. The same message. Of course. What else could she expect?
John had been calling her for over a year now. Why, she did not know. But everyday, he had always said the same thing: to get out. To May, these words were wasted and meaningless. Why would she want to get out? She had tried talking to John once, but he had just hung up. Never once had she clearly heard his voice; there was always too much static to distinguish his voice from others that call her on her cell. After a couple of months, May had begun to ignore him, to just take his calls and not give him a second thought.
Then, they had stopped. It was the night of the accident. May had been driving home one dark night, and suddenly, there was a flash of light and her car hit a tree just off the road. May sustained enough damage to her brain to be officially called "insane". That was when she got her last call. It was the same message as always, but after that night, John had never bothered to call her again.
Until tonight. May stared down at her phone and felt the first twinges of fear. A shiver menacingly crawled down her back and once again, she shivered. John had not called in over six months. Why would he start again? Different reasons swarmed and clouded May's mind, each more ridiculous and unreasonable than the last. John never called for social reasons. His calls were always followed by some sort of pain or revelation. But what could happen hear?
A soft cry of a wolf rang through the night and May sat in her car, frightened. She looked down at her watch and found that she had been asleep for almost three hours before the cell phone woke her up. May looked around and thought once again about the dire predicament of her situation. She was a young, aspiring writer stranded on a lonely Old Oak Boulevard in the dead of night. Silently, she reviewed what she was going to say to the police officer that finds her stranded here. I am May Flower, she thought, and my vehicle broke down at approximately 9:50 PM last night on April 23rd, 1999. I was on my way back to my hotel from a meeting when my engine sputtered and died. I am in need of assistance. Thank you. In her head, the words sounded normal, casual with a sense of urgency. But May was not in haste, despite the fact that she was sitting on a lonely, deserted road at night with no food or drink. As she waited for the police officer to come, May found herself drifting off to sleep again and unknowingly, fell back into the land of dreams.
Beep, beep, BEEP! The cell phone rang once again and sharply pulled May back into reality. Groaning, she flicked open the cover and found that John was calling her.
"GET OUT NOW! THEY'RE COMING!" May felt her heart skip a couple of beats. In the history of John's calls, never once was any kind of "they" ever mentioned.
"What?! John, who's THEY?" she cried into the phone.
Silence answered her. John was gone. Breathing heavily, May closed her phone and glanced at her watch. It was 3:25 AM, more than five hours since her car had broken down. Where was the police officer that was supposed to arrive? May thought back to the first few moments of panic when she had realized what happened to her car. Had she called 911? Yes, she had. May was absolutely positive that she had. In fact, she could recall herself taking her phone out of the bag, dialing a number and screaming that she needed help into the phone. She could remember the soothing voice of the man who assured her that someone would be sent out immediately to aid her.
Then what was wrong? May sighed and flipped open the phone cover again. She would call again, that's what she would do. She wouldn't sit here and wait until some unwary stranger passes her by and takes pity on her. The phone rang and without warning, died. May stared at her cell phone in disbelief. Cursing, she threw her phone down and felt the burning sting of fresh, hot tears in her eyes. Now, she was truly trapped. Finally, the danger of her situation began to sink in.
May suddenly sat up. She couldn't give up yet. She must walk down the road until she meets someone or until she comes upon a CallBox or some sort. May's hand was halfway to the door handle when a sharp cry of a wolf pierced the silence of the night. May shrunk back from the door, shivering in fright. No. She couldn't leave the car. Here, at least, she was safe. No. She would wait until daylight to seek help. Until then, she would just sleep the night off in her car. Simple as that. Slowly, May drifted into a troubled sleep.
Beep, beep beeeeeppp! May awoke with a start for the third time and stared incredulously at her phone, which was ringing noisily. Panting in fright, she picked it up and opened the cover, John. How could he call when her phone was out of batteries?
"He-Hello?" she asked. John's voice was faint and was hardly audible amid the static.
"They're…here." May heard a click as John hung up. May drew in a deep and shaky breath. Suddenly, a deafening and screechy scream pierced the night and it took May a minute to realize that the scream was her own. Her car started rocking back and forth, as if many creatures were pushing it from side to side. More screams filled the night and May knew that not all were her own. Something else was out there, screaming at her. The windows shattered and May found her breath constricted. Her efforts to free herself from the black creatures' grasps were futile and slowly, she fell into darkness, screaming and kicking…
"Doctor, all readings have settled back to normal in the case of May Flower," the nurse said. Dr. John Hendry looked up and gave a relieved smile.
"Good. Has she stopped screaming and kicking?" he asked while looking at May's medical chart.
"Yes. But she keeps mumbling something about black creatures and arbitrary cell phone calls. It really is quite strange," the nurse replied. Dr. Hendry sharply looked up.
"Dark creatures? She hasn't mentioned them in over six months. Same with the cell phone calls," he said. The nurse shrugged.
"She was mumbling something about a man named John calling her also. I am not sure who this John is. According to Detective Galloway, there was no one in her life by the name of John previous to you, Dr. Hendry." Dr. Hendry's eyes flashed.
"What are you implying, Martha? That I have something to do with May's state?" The nurse quickly shook her head,
"No, of course not. What I mean is, maybe she is not completely unperceptive to her surroundings. Maybe she knows more than we think she does." Dr. Hendry sighed.
"I don't know, Martha. What I think is that May has been reliving the night of the accident. You said she mentioned an Old Oak Boulevard? Yes, well, that was where her car had crashed."
"But Doctor, that still doesn't explain the dark creatures and cell phone call," Martha stated. Dr. Hendry sighed and closed his eyes, deep in thought.
"I don't know, Martha. What we know is that she has been in this come since the accident. And what we want is for her to wake up. For now, let us concentrate on achieving that. Besides, I think that these 'dark creatures' are just some sort of manifestation of one of May's many fears. It doesn't matter. You say that May has become normalized now? Well, that's good. Good night Martha," Dr. Hendry said, closing the discussion. Shaking her head for no particular reason, Martha left and Dr. Hendry sat, thinking.
He was fully aware of what had caused the sudden deterioration of May's brain. There had been stories ever since he was a little kid of evil spirits on Old Oak Boulevard. He was, without a doubt, sure that May had been affected by someone, or something, which had lingered on that old and empty road. Sighing, Dr. Hendry turned back to his report on another patient. May Flower was old news now. There was nothing more to be done than try and awake her. As the night wore on, any traces or thoughts of May that had been in Dr. Hendry's mind temporarily vanished.