Psychological Story Contest

On a warm Sunday in the middle of summer, I was walking on the sidewalk downtown when a squeal of tortured wheels reached my ears and forced me to turn to look a the road, where a car was drifting without control towards an oncoming van. The metal of both vehicles crunched and screamed as they made contact, and the smaller car that had been turning was almost completely destroyed, its front collapsed like a smashed soda can. The tinkling of broken glass hitting road lasted for seconds afterwards, the van’s window having burst. My first instinct was to rush over to the cars, since there was little traffic, and when I reached the large white van I flung the door open to find

No one.

The entire vehicle was empty, except for the seats and some trash. No passenger had been sent careering into the back of the car. No one had gotten out of the other side, which was convex and deformed due to the collision. I blanched, feeling my face whiten with horrified wonder. I backed away and walked around to the side of the van in which the oncoming car had lodged itself. Without even needing to open the door, I could see that it was devoid of life or a corpse as well.

I turned around, sweating now from the adrenaline of seeing the crash and confusion. Now that I took a moment to take in my surroundings, I realized something eldritch was at hand.

There were no other cars to be seen in any direction from the four-way intersection I stood in the middle of. No pedestrians on either sidewalk, when minutes before the crash there had been dozens. The wind, which had been blowing my long strands of hair about on my face and neck and had plastered my clothes on one side of my body with its force, had completely died down. No sounds reached my ears besides the thumping of my heart and, I thought, the blood in my ear rushing to create the illusion of noise.

Perplexed and beginning to be worried, I stood in the road for a few moments more. The sun still beat down on me, but was significantly less warming than it had been. I felt my skin, and it was burning hot, fervid. I chalked it up to excitement and forgot about it. What I had to do was find another person.

I strode along the cement walkway in a rush, looking in glass doors of business and boutiques. The cafes of Decesso Way were destitute and barren. The usual haunts of homeless supplicants were voids as well. I even went so far as to check the Episcopalian church, in which the devout of this town were wont to be even into the late Sunday nights. Empty.

A whole town, empty.

It was inconceivable. It couldn’t be true.

How could it be true?

I pondered this, on the verge of tears of nonsense, and sat down on a wooden bench on Holle Street to rest after the winded search for others. I let a few drops past, hoping someone would pop up and see them so I could be embarrassed, but no such fortune came to me.

Without warning, a welcome gust of wind came, blowing trash along with it. Among the litter was a fold of the local paper, which caught my eye with a vivid color photo. I snagged it from the breeze and choked on my own breath as I comprehended the words.

“Van Driver Killed In Fatal Crash”

Word count: 599