# 9 True Circle K Horror Stories For Sleep Real Terror at the Gas Station!

An episode of [AfterDark Reddits](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1896809423), 13 Oct 2026, 1 h 07 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/74987434/095_9_true_circle_k_horror_stories_for_sleep_real_terror_at_the_gas_station.mp3



## Transcript

[0:03] Speaker 1: I never liked working the closing shift, but when your
[0:05] Speaker 1: grandma's on oxygen and your rent's overdue, you don't exactly
[0:08] Speaker 1: get to be picky. I was 22 when this happened,
[0:12] Speaker 1: still living out in Roswell, the real Roswell, not the
[0:15] Speaker 1: alien-themed tourist trap. Just trailers, gas stations, too many empty lots.
[0:22] Speaker 1: I worked nights at the Circle K off Route 84,
[0:25] Speaker 1: the one between the truck stop and that old diner
[0:27] Speaker 1: nobody ate at anymore. Back then... I lived with my
[0:31] Speaker 1: grandma in a two-bedroom trailer with a busted swamp cooler
[0:34] Speaker 1: and a leaky roof. After her cancer diagnosis, school went
[0:38] Speaker 1: out the window. Bills didn't care about your GPA. Most
[0:42] Speaker 1: nights at Circle K were dull. I'd do closing with Rico,
[0:46] Speaker 1: the assistant manager, ex-military mid-thirties, kind of a smartass but solid,
[0:52] Speaker 1: and Angela, a 17-year-old with smudged eyeliner and earbuds always
[0:56] Speaker 1: hanging from her hoodie. She was saving up for prom
[0:59] Speaker 1: and talked about it like it was the only thing
[1:01] Speaker 1: that mattered. That night, it was windy. April in New
[1:06] Speaker 1: Mexico gets weird that way. Hot one hour, then freezing
[1:10] Speaker 1: with sand in your teeth the next. It was about 11.30
[1:13] Speaker 1: when Angela said it. He's been standing there a while.
[1:19] Speaker 1: I looked up from stalking behind the counter. There was
[1:21] Speaker 1: a man just outside the glass doors. Just standing, not moving,
[1:26] Speaker 1: hands at his sides. No shopping bag, no car nearby.
[1:31] Speaker 1: Eyes fixed straight through the glass like he was watching
[1:33] Speaker 1: a movie. At first I thought he was homeless. We
[1:37] Speaker 1: got a few who came in for coffee or to
[1:39] Speaker 1: warm up near the microwave burrito rack. But this guy
[1:43] Speaker 1: didn't move. Didn't even blink. Rico looked up. We're closed
[1:48] Speaker 1: in twenty, he said flatly, then walked over and flipped
[1:52] Speaker 1: the lock early. The guy didn't react, just stood there
[1:55] Speaker 1: for another second. then slowly turned and walked around the
[1:59] Speaker 1: side of the building, out of view. Angela said quietly,
[2:04] Speaker 1: That was weird. It was. But I told myself, people
[2:09] Speaker 1: get lost, get high, get tired. This place wasn't special.
[2:15] Speaker 1: It just looked that way when you stared at it
[2:16] Speaker 1: too long. Still, I felt something then. Not fear exactly,
[2:22] Speaker 1: just that twitch in the back of your neck when
[2:23] Speaker 1: your body knows more than your brain does. After the
[2:26] Speaker 1: guy disappeared, things got back to normal. Sort of. We
[2:30] Speaker 1: went back to closing duties. Mopping the back, restocking gum,
[2:34] Speaker 1: cleaning the bathrooms. I took the restroom key, grabbed the
[2:38] Speaker 1: cleaning bucket and headed to the back. Angela said something
[2:42] Speaker 1: behind me. Soft, almost nervous. I think he's still out there.
[2:49] Speaker 1: I turned, but she wasn't looking at me. Just back
[2:53] Speaker 1: at the door. The wind pushed against it like it
[2:56] Speaker 1: was trying to come in. He's probably gone, I said,
[3:01] Speaker 1: mostly to myself. I went into the bathroom. The overhead
[3:05] Speaker 1: light flickered when I flipped it on. Nothing unusual for
[3:09] Speaker 1: a building that hadn't had real maintenance since Obama was president.
[3:13] Speaker 1: I pulled on gloves and opened the stall door. There
[3:16] Speaker 1: was no one there. But then I saw the mirror.
[3:20] Speaker 1: Not a full figure. Just the sense of someone. like
[3:24] Speaker 1: someone had just stepped out of frame. My own reflection
[3:27] Speaker 1: looked a little off, pale, eyes too wide, hair sticking
[3:32] Speaker 1: to my cheek with sweat I hadn't noticed. I stared
[3:36] Speaker 1: for a few seconds longer than I should have, not
[3:39] Speaker 1: because I saw anything, just because I felt like I might.
[3:43] Speaker 1: Then I heard something, a soft whisper, not words, just air,
[3:50] Speaker 1: like breath. I froze. I froze. The faucet creaked slightly.
[3:55] Speaker 1: I hadn't touched it. I dropped the cleaner and backed
[3:57] Speaker 1: out of the room. Fast. My heart was thudding hard.
[4:02] Speaker 1: Not from what I saw, but from what I thought
[4:03] Speaker 1: I might have seen. I walked back toward the front
[4:07] Speaker 1: and found Angela near tears and Rico staring at the
[4:09] Speaker 1: security monitor. Did you see him come back in? I asked, breath-catching. No.
[4:17] Speaker 1: Rico said quietly. Nothing. Nothing. I told them what I
[4:22] Speaker 1: thought I saw, or felt, in the bathroom. Rico grabbed
[4:27] Speaker 1: the bat we kept under the counter and swept the store.
[4:30] Speaker 1: Angela followed him, but I stayed put. I couldn't shake it,
[4:34] Speaker 1: the feeling that something had shifted. They came back five
[4:38] Speaker 1: minutes later. Nothing, Rico said again. But I noticed he
[4:44] Speaker 1: double-checked the lock this time. We didn't hang around after close.
[4:49] Speaker 1: We locked up ten minutes early and left together in
[4:51] Speaker 1: Rico's car. No one wanted to go out alone. Rico drove.
[4:56] Speaker 1: Angela stared out the window, chewing her sleeve. I sat
[5:00] Speaker 1: in the back, watching the gas station fade behind us.
[5:03] Speaker 1: It felt like we were being watched, but I knew
[5:06] Speaker 1: better than to say that out loud. You say stuff
[5:08] Speaker 1: like that and people start looking at you differently. Like
[5:12] Speaker 1: maybe you're the problem. I've worked here five years, Rico said,
[5:17] Speaker 1: breaking the silence. Never seen that guy before. Never seen
[5:21] Speaker 1: you run like that either. I didn't see anything, I said.
[5:26] Speaker 1: I just... felt like I did. Angela murmured. It didn't
[5:31] Speaker 1: feel right. The air in there. We dropped her off
[5:35] Speaker 1: at her house. She didn't even say goodbye. Just got
[5:38] Speaker 1: out and walked up the driveway with her arms wrapped
[5:40] Speaker 1: around herself like she was cold. I didn't go home either.
[5:44] Speaker 1: Called my cousin. Said I needed a place to crash.
[5:47] Speaker 1: She didn't ask questions. didn't sleep much just kept thinking
[5:51] Speaker 1: about that moment in the bathroom the mirror the whisper
[5:55] Speaker 1: the heaviness in the air maybe i was tired maybe
[6:00] Speaker 1: my brain had rewired itself from too many late nights
[6:03] Speaker 1: and not enough real rest next morning i called the
[6:07] Speaker 1: store manager left a voicemail i'm sorry i'm done i
[6:12] Speaker 1: can't do nights anymore that was it rico quit later
[6:17] Speaker 1: that week About 10 days after I quit, I got
[6:20] Speaker 1: a text from Angela. No words, just an image attached.
[6:24] Speaker 1: It was a selfie, posted on Yelp by some tourist.
[6:28] Speaker 1: Bad lighting, crooked angle, taken in the snack aisle, harmless
[6:32] Speaker 1: at first glance. But in the reflection on the end
[6:35] Speaker 1: cap mirror just behind the energy drinks, there was a figure,
[6:39] Speaker 1: not clear, not detailed, but standing still, face in shadow,
[6:44] Speaker 1: shape too familiar. The timestamp on the post, 10.14pm. Almost
[6:50] Speaker 1: an hour before we saw the man outside the doors.
[6:54] Speaker 1: I stared at the photo for a long time. Longer
[6:57] Speaker 1: than I want to admit. Then I turned off my
[6:59] Speaker 1: phone and didn't turn it back on for the rest
[7:01] Speaker 1: of the day. I never texted Angela back. What was
[7:05] Speaker 1: I going to say? I passed by the store again
[7:08] Speaker 1: a year later. It was boarded up. The windows smashed out.
[7:12] Speaker 1: A hand-lettered for lease sign hung crooked on the front.
[7:15] Speaker 1: It looked hollow. Forgotten. But I parked across the street anyway.
[7:20] Speaker 1: Just sat there for a while. You don't think these
[7:23] Speaker 1: places will mean anything. Gas stations. Fluorescent lights. Late nights
[7:27] Speaker 1: wiping down a microwave. But they do. They get inside you.
[7:33] Speaker 1: Especially when no one else sees what you did. Or
[7:36] Speaker 1: what you thought you did. In the rear view I
[7:39] Speaker 1: saw something shift in the glass. Not a man. Not
[7:43] Speaker 1: a ghost. Just a trick of the light. Probably. Probably.
[7:48] Speaker 1: I think about that night more often than I'd like
[7:50] Speaker 1: to admit. Not because of what I saw, or maybe
[7:54] Speaker 1: didn't see, but because of what it meant. Sometimes the
[7:59] Speaker 1: scariest thing isn't a ghost. It's feeling like you're the
[8:02] Speaker 1: only one who noticed something wrong. That everyone else will
[8:06] Speaker 1: write it off while you lie awake wondering if you're
[8:09] Speaker 1: losing it. Here's what I know now. Isolation can do
[8:13] Speaker 1: strange things to the brain. So can silence. And when
[8:18] Speaker 1: people say they're scared or tired or off, you believe them.
[8:23] Speaker 1: Because it doesn't take a haunting to make someone disappear.
[8:25] Speaker 1: Sometimes all it takes is no one listening. If you've
[8:31] Speaker 1: never worked retail on a Friday night, let me tell you.
[8:34] Speaker 1: It's not for the faint of heart. Especially not at
[8:37] Speaker 1: a gas station off Lake Point Avenue in Cedar Glen, Ohio.
[8:40] Speaker 1: Especially not during football season. I was 19 when this
[8:44] Speaker 1: all went down. I worked part-time at Circle K, juggling
[8:47] Speaker 1: community college classes and helping my mom pay off a
[8:50] Speaker 1: second mortgage that we never talk about. My days were
[8:53] Speaker 1: a blur of lectures, coffee, and fluorescent lights. I didn't
[8:57] Speaker 1: mind the job. It was money. Devin, my usual closing partner,
[9:02] Speaker 1: kept to himself. Good guy. Quiet. The kind of person
[9:06] Speaker 1: who'd remind you to clock out, then vanish. Every Friday
[9:11] Speaker 1: after the home games... The same crew of high school
[9:14] Speaker 1: football players rolled in like they owned the place, shoulder
[9:17] Speaker 1: pads half off, cleats clacking on the tile, smelling like
[9:20] Speaker 1: sweat and Axe body spray. They never bought much, mostly
[9:25] Speaker 1: harassed the soda machine and flirted with anyone under 30.
[9:29] Speaker 1: Zach was their ringleader. Tall, smirky, loud, the kind of
[9:34] Speaker 1: kid who'd get voted most likely to get away with it.
[9:37] Speaker 1: That night, he swaggered in, grabbed a 44-ounce cup, and
[9:42] Speaker 1: made a show of pretending not to pay. Free refills, right?
[9:46] Speaker 1: He asked, already filling it with Sprite. Only with a receipt,
[9:50] Speaker 1: I said, tapping the plastic sign right in front of him.
[9:54] Speaker 1: He laughed. Come on, it's just Circle K, not like
[9:57] Speaker 1: this is NASA. Still gotta pay he didn't like that
[10:02] Speaker 1: his eyes narrowed just enough to make it weird all
[10:05] Speaker 1: right officer lane he dropped the cup on the counter
[10:09] Speaker 1: not hard but not gently either and walked out muttering
[10:13] Speaker 1: something under his breath i couldn't catch whatever I went
[10:18] Speaker 1: back to wiping down the hot dog rollers, more annoyed
[10:21] Speaker 1: than anything. Then I saw it. A folded napkin, tucked
[10:25] Speaker 1: under the edge of the counter. I almost tossed it
[10:28] Speaker 1: in the trash, but something about the ink bleeding through
[10:30] Speaker 1: made me stop. Better watch your back. You're making enemies.
[10:36] Speaker 1: I stared at it for a long time. Then I
[10:38] Speaker 1: showed it to Devin. He looked at it, sighed, and said,
[10:42] Speaker 1: They're just kids, Marissa. Messing around, but my hands were
[10:47] Speaker 1: already shaking. Because a friend of mine, Ashley, had been
[10:51] Speaker 1: followed home two months ago. Same setup, same kind of boys,
[10:55] Speaker 1: and nobody believed her either. I couldn't stop thinking about
[10:58] Speaker 1: that note. It stayed with me all weekend, folded and
[11:02] Speaker 1: refolded in my backpack like a secret. I didn't show
[11:05] Speaker 1: it to my mom. She had enough on her plate
[11:08] Speaker 1: with two jobs and my little brother. When I mentioned
[11:11] Speaker 1: it again on Monday, Devin just gave me that same look,
[11:14] Speaker 1: like I was overreacting. They hang out here every Friday,
[11:19] Speaker 1: he said. You know how they are. You challenge them,
[11:22] Speaker 1: they get cocky, that's all. But it didn't feel like all.
[11:26] Speaker 1: It felt personal. The following Friday, I parked closer to
[11:30] Speaker 1: the store than usual. Under the streetlight, camera facing me.
[11:34] Speaker 1: I told myself I was being careful, not paranoid. The
[11:38] Speaker 1: same boys came in, right on time. Zach didn't even
[11:42] Speaker 1: look at me this time. Just knocked over a bag
[11:45] Speaker 1: of pretzels, laughed. and walked out holding a Gatorade. They
[11:49] Speaker 1: didn't pay. Devin muttered something about not starting a scene,
[11:53] Speaker 1: but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming.
[11:57] Speaker 1: After closing, I grabbed my bag and headed to my car.
[12:00] Speaker 1: That's when I saw it, my Civic sitting low on
[12:02] Speaker 1: one side. I crouched down and saw the gash in
[12:05] Speaker 1: the tire, not a nail, not road damage, a clean slice,
[12:09] Speaker 1: both rear tires, same angle, same depth, like someone had
[12:14] Speaker 1: done it slow, deliberate. My mouth went dry. Back inside,
[12:19] Speaker 1: I called Devin over. Jesus, he said. You sure someone
[12:23] Speaker 1: didn't just, I don't know, to screw with the air pressure?
[12:26] Speaker 1: I'm sure. We called the manager. No answer. Left a message.
[12:32] Speaker 1: Then I called the non-emergency police line. A young officer
[12:35] Speaker 1: came out, clipboard and all. No cameras on that side?
[12:39] Speaker 1: He asked. Nope. Well, without proof or a witness, there's
[12:43] Speaker 1: not much we can do. You want to file a
[12:45] Speaker 1: report anyway? I did, but we both knew it wouldn't
[12:50] Speaker 1: go anywhere. Devin drove me home that night. Neither of
[12:53] Speaker 1: us said much. I could feel the silence trying to
[12:56] Speaker 1: tell me something, and I didn't like what it had
[12:59] Speaker 1: to say. This wasn't a prank. This was a warning.
[13:04] Speaker 1: On Monday, I checked the new schedule. Afternoon shifts, four
[13:08] Speaker 1: to nine, every single day. I called the manager. Hey,
[13:13] Speaker 1: I usually close Fridays. I saw the shift change. Is
[13:17] Speaker 1: that permanent? He hesitated, just long enough to confirm my suspicion.
[13:23] Speaker 1: We just think it's... safer. For everyone. Safer for who?
[13:29] Speaker 1: You're pulling me off nights because of them? I asked.
[13:33] Speaker 1: Not exactly, he said. But we can't afford any more incidents.
[13:38] Speaker 1: If something happened on our watch... So you're avoiding the problem.
[13:43] Speaker 1: Got it. He didn't deny it. That's when I realized
[13:47] Speaker 1: I wasn't being protected. I was being pushed aside. Quietly. Cleanly.
[13:52] Speaker 1: Like a coffee cup sliding off a counter. Zach and
[13:56] Speaker 1: his friends kept coming in. Every Friday. Still laughing. Still loud.
[14:01] Speaker 1: Still taking whatever they wanted. Sundays are usually my favorite
[14:07] Speaker 1: day of the week. Not because I do anything exciting,
[14:10] Speaker 1: but because of the routine. I've always needed structure. It
[14:15] Speaker 1: helps me breathe easier, especially since last semester, when my
[14:19] Speaker 1: panic attacks started during finals. Just the thought of walking
[14:23] Speaker 1: into a packed exam room made my vision blur and
[14:26] Speaker 1: my chest go tight. I'm better now, mostly, but the
[14:30] Speaker 1: feeling never fully leaves, like a sleeping animal you hope
[14:34] Speaker 1: doesn't wake up. That's why Sundays matter. Me and Olivia,
[14:38] Speaker 1: my roommate and best friend since sophomore year, do errands together. Groceries, laundry,
[14:44] Speaker 1: sometimes a walk if the weather's decent. I drive. She
[14:48] Speaker 1: picks the music. We stop at Circle K almost every
[14:51] Speaker 1: time because Olivia swears they have the best iced coffee
[14:54] Speaker 1: under three bucks, and I always grab sour gummies or
[14:57] Speaker 1: trail mix for the week. We'd just finished at Target
[15:01] Speaker 1: and were heading back when she said, let's swing by
[15:03] Speaker 1: Circle K. I forgot my energy drinks. I pulled in
[15:07] Speaker 1: without thinking. The lot was about half full, not busy,
[15:12] Speaker 1: not empty. the kind of in-between that usually feels safe.
[15:16] Speaker 1: Olivia went inside to grab the drinks and check out
[15:19] Speaker 1: while I said I'd start loading the trunk with what
[15:21] Speaker 1: we bought from Target. I wasn't scared. Not even a little.
[15:27] Speaker 1: I wasn't looking over my shoulder. The sun was high.
[15:30] Speaker 1: It was the middle of the day. But while I
[15:33] Speaker 1: was putting the last case of bottled water in the trunk,
[15:35] Speaker 1: I felt it. That sudden prickle like the air had
[15:38] Speaker 1: changed behind me. A tight feeling at the base of
[15:42] Speaker 1: my neck. I've had that sensation before. Usually when something
[15:47] Speaker 1: bad was coming. I turned slowly. Across the parking lot,
[15:53] Speaker 1: maybe four rows down, stood a man. Faded green hoodie.
[15:58] Speaker 1: Long sleeves. Hood halfway up. He was beside a red sedan,
[16:03] Speaker 1: leaned against it just slightly. But his posture wasn't relaxed.
[16:06] Speaker 1: He wasn't on his phone. Wasn't smoking. Just watching. Me.
[16:13] Speaker 1: It could have meant nothing. but I wasn't so sure.
[16:17] Speaker 1: At first I thought maybe I was being dramatic. That
[16:20] Speaker 1: maybe this was one of those moments where your brain
[16:22] Speaker 1: invents danger because it's wired to. But then he moved.
[16:26] Speaker 1: He started walking. Not fast. Not like a guy late
[16:30] Speaker 1: for work or running from something. Just straight, steady, toward me.
[16:35] Speaker 1: I reached for my phone, reflex, but realized it wasn't
[16:38] Speaker 1: in my pocket. It was inside. I'd left it with
[16:41] Speaker 1: Olivia at checkout so she could use my rewards app
[16:44] Speaker 1: for the gas points. My stomach turned. My hands were shaking,
[16:48] Speaker 1: but I did my best to play it off. I
[16:50] Speaker 1: shut the trunk calmly, like nothing was wrong. My keys
[16:54] Speaker 1: were already in my hand, the metal cool against my palm.
[16:59] Speaker 1: I slid one between my fingers, just like Olivia showed
[17:02] Speaker 1: me once. It's not a weapon, she'd said, but it's
[17:06] Speaker 1: better than nothing. The man didn't stop. I thought about running,
[17:12] Speaker 1: but my legs felt rooted to the spot. There were
[17:15] Speaker 1: people in the store, cars nearby. If I screamed, someone
[17:20] Speaker 1: would hear, right? Still, I didn't scream. I just backed
[17:25] Speaker 1: toward the driver's side door and pressed the unlock button.
[17:28] Speaker 1: He got within 10 feet before stopping. That's when he
[17:32] Speaker 1: said it. Calm, almost casual. Is that a Honda Civic?
[17:39] Speaker 1: I blinked. He stared at me. My sister had that
[17:43] Speaker 1: exact one before she disappeared. His tone was flat, but
[17:47] Speaker 1: there was something off in the way he said disappeared,
[17:50] Speaker 1: like it wasn't just a story, like I was somehow
[17:53] Speaker 1: involved in it, whether I knew it or not. I
[17:57] Speaker 1: didn't answer, didn't move except to open the car door,
[18:00] Speaker 1: get in, and lock it fast. My hands were slippery
[18:04] Speaker 1: on the wheel. I reversed without checking properly, nearly clipping
[18:08] Speaker 1: a trash bin. My chest felt like it was about
[18:11] Speaker 1: to cave in. Olivia came running out, holding two iced
[18:15] Speaker 1: coffees in a plastic bag, confused. What the hell? She asked,
[18:20] Speaker 1: climbing in. I'll explain later, I said, pulling out onto
[18:24] Speaker 1: Watterson without looking back. We didn't say much on the
[18:27] Speaker 1: way home. Olivia kept looking at me sideways, waiting for
[18:31] Speaker 1: an explanation. I gave her the basics. Man in a hoodie, staring,
[18:35] Speaker 1: walking toward me. Creepy comment. Did he try to touch you?
[18:40] Speaker 1: She asked. No, I said. But he didn't have to.
[18:46] Speaker 1: She got quiet after that. I think she understood. She's
[18:51] Speaker 1: been with me through panic attacks, through the nights I
[18:53] Speaker 1: couldn't breathe when even shadows made me spiral. She never
[18:57] Speaker 1: once called me dramatic. But still, a part of me
[19:01] Speaker 1: wondered if I was reading too much into it. People
[19:04] Speaker 1: grieve in weird ways. Maybe the car really did remind
[19:08] Speaker 1: him of something. Maybe he wasn't a threat. Maybe I
[19:12] Speaker 1: projected it all onto him. But that night I couldn't sleep.
[19:16] Speaker 1: My ears strained for sounds that weren't there. Every creak
[19:20] Speaker 1: in the townhouse made my heart skip. And the next
[19:24] Speaker 1: day at lunch I noticed a red sedan parked across
[19:26] Speaker 1: the street from campus. Nothing illegal. Just sitting there. Same make.
[19:33] Speaker 1: Same faded paint. Coincidence? I don't know. but I parked
[19:39] Speaker 1: in a different spot the next day, and the next
[19:41] Speaker 1: after that, just in case. By Wednesday, I'd stopped using
[19:45] Speaker 1: logic to soothe myself. I needed something tangible, so I
[19:49] Speaker 1: went to a car accessory store after class and bought
[19:52] Speaker 1: a dash cam. $ 58. 97 plus tax. Worth every penny. The
[19:59] Speaker 1: guy behind the counter offered to install it for a fee.
[20:03] Speaker 1: I declined. Went home, read the manual twice, and figured
[20:07] Speaker 1: it out. plugged it into the cigarette lighter port, mounted
[20:11] Speaker 1: it just above the rearview mirror, checked the angle three times.
[20:16] Speaker 1: That night, I slept a little easier. Not because I
[20:19] Speaker 1: thought it would stop anything from happening, but because I
[20:22] Speaker 1: finally had something recording in case it did. We never
[20:26] Speaker 1: went back to that circle K, not once. I changed
[20:30] Speaker 1: my usual Sunday routes, even switched gyms. I told Olivia
[20:34] Speaker 1: she didn't have to change anything for me, but she
[20:37] Speaker 1: did it anyway. That's who she is. A few weeks later,
[20:42] Speaker 1: I saw the red sedan again. This time in the
[20:44] Speaker 1: lot near our townhouse. It left after five minutes. Again.
[20:49] Speaker 1: Could have been nothing. But I stopped parking on the
[20:52] Speaker 1: street after that. Some people think fear is loud. That
[20:56] Speaker 1: it shows up as screaming or running or a horror
[20:58] Speaker 1: movie jump scare. But it's not. Not always. Sometimes fear
[21:04] Speaker 1: is quiet. Subtle. The way your body stays tense in
[21:08] Speaker 1: a well-lit parking lot. The way you memorize license plates
[21:11] Speaker 1: without realizing. The way you stop going to places that
[21:15] Speaker 1: used to feel normal. I never saw the man in
[21:18] Speaker 1: the green hoodie again. Not clearly, at least. But every
[21:22] Speaker 1: time I walked to my car after that, I double-checked
[21:25] Speaker 1: the back seat. Every time I turned the ignition, I
[21:29] Speaker 1: glanced at the dash cam light just to make sure
[21:32] Speaker 1: it was recording. People say you shouldn't live in fear.
[21:36] Speaker 1: I get that. But when something doesn't sit right, when
[21:39] Speaker 1: your gut tells you to move, you listen. Because sometimes
[21:44] Speaker 1: the danger is real. And sometimes the scariest part is
[21:49] Speaker 1: not knowing for sure. Trust your instincts. Even when no
[21:54] Speaker 1: one else does. Because sometimes your brain isn't overreacting. It's
[22:00] Speaker 1: trying to protect you. Better safe. Aware. and a little
[22:05] Speaker 1: paranoid than silent in regret. They always told me warehouse
[22:12] Speaker 1: work wasn't for quiet people. You gotta be sharp, fast,
[22:17] Speaker 1: loud on the floor, the supervisor said the day I started.
[22:21] Speaker 1: But I've lasted three years on the night shift in
[22:23] Speaker 1: that massive distribution center just south of Des Moines, unloading crates,
[22:27] Speaker 1: scanning boxes, stacking pallets. It's not glamorous, but it's consistent.
[22:33] Speaker 1: And I like consistent. Most nights I don't talk to
[22:36] Speaker 1: anyone beyond a polite nod or good shift. My feet
[22:39] Speaker 1: are sore, my back's usually tight, but when I clock
[22:42] Speaker 1: out around 9.30 p.m., I get in my 2009 Camry
[22:47] Speaker 1: and head straight to Circle K on Meadowbrook Road. It's
[22:51] Speaker 1: not much, but it's my routine. A gas station hot dog,
[22:55] Speaker 1: an energy drink, sometimes a warmed-up sandwich. I sit at
[23:00] Speaker 1: the stool by the window. the one where I can
[23:02] Speaker 1: watch the headlights on the road and feel a little
[23:04] Speaker 1: less boxed in. It's the only time I slow down
[23:07] Speaker 1: and breathe before heading to my tiny studio apartment. That
[23:11] Speaker 1: Friday night, it was colder than usual. March in Iowa
[23:15] Speaker 1: can't decide if it's winter or spring. I remember because
[23:19] Speaker 1: I had to dig the ice scraper out of the
[23:21] Speaker 1: back seat before leaving work. I walked into Circle K,
[23:25] Speaker 1: pulled the hood off my head, and immediately noticed something off.
[23:30] Speaker 1: There was a man standing by the coffee station. Dark
[23:33] Speaker 1: green coat, knit cap pulled low over his ears. He
[23:37] Speaker 1: was just... standing. Not pouring coffee. Not looking at the options.
[23:44] Speaker 1: Just staring at them like they might change. I walked
[23:48] Speaker 1: past him, nodded out of habit. No response. Not even
[23:52] Speaker 1: a blink. Weird, but not unheard of. It's a gas station.
[23:58] Speaker 1: People come in half asleep, hungover, high, or all three.
[24:03] Speaker 1: I grabbed a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich from the
[24:06] Speaker 1: microwave case, paid in cash, and sat down in my
[24:08] Speaker 1: usual seat by the window. Opened the sandwich, unwrapped half,
[24:13] Speaker 1: took a bite. That's when I noticed him again, still
[24:17] Speaker 1: hadn't moved, just standing between the drink machine and the
[24:20] Speaker 1: hallway to the restrooms. Every so often he'd take three
[24:24] Speaker 1: or four steps toward the back, then stop, then back again,
[24:29] Speaker 1: then stop, Something wasn't right. I've never been the kind
[24:34] Speaker 1: of person to assume the worst. But something about this
[24:37] Speaker 1: guy's pacing felt different. Too slow. Too deliberate. Like he
[24:43] Speaker 1: didn't know if he should go in the restroom. Or
[24:46] Speaker 1: if he'd already been in and forgotten. Ten minutes went by.
[24:51] Speaker 1: I was halfway through my sandwich when I saw the
[24:53] Speaker 1: employee at the register glance up. She had short blonde
[24:57] Speaker 1: hair and a name tag that said Ava. She looked tired,
[25:02] Speaker 1: the kind of tired you don't fix with caffeine. Hey,
[25:06] Speaker 1: she called over to the second worker, a younger guy
[25:08] Speaker 1: stocking drinks. Is that dude still back there? He looked
[25:12] Speaker 1: toward the hallway. Yep. Ava lowered her voice, but I
[25:16] Speaker 1: still heard it. That's the third time this week. Third time?
[25:22] Speaker 1: I looked back at the man. He was at the
[25:24] Speaker 1: edge of the restroom hallway again, staring at the floor.
[25:27] Speaker 1: Same blank expression. No blinking. His hands were in his
[25:31] Speaker 1: coat pockets, sleeves too long, like they'd been chewed up
[25:35] Speaker 1: or stretched. Then, bang. It sounded like a trash can
[25:39] Speaker 1: or maybe one of those plastic wet floor signs hitting
[25:42] Speaker 1: the wall. Loud. Sharp. Then silence. Both employees froze. Ava
[25:49] Speaker 1: set the phone down and started walking toward the back.
[25:52] Speaker 1: I stood up, sandwich in hand, unsure if I should
[25:54] Speaker 1: follow or just... leave. Then I heard her say, Oh
[26:00] Speaker 1: my god. She stopped dead in the hallway. I walked
[26:05] Speaker 1: slowly toward her. I didn't want to intrude, but I
[26:08] Speaker 1: also didn't want to pretend I didn't hear that noise.
[26:12] Speaker 1: She turned slightly, and her face looked pale under the
[26:15] Speaker 1: fluorescent lights. Call 911, she said. Her voice was flat,
[26:22] Speaker 1: too calm to be okay. I leaned and looked down
[26:25] Speaker 1: the hallway. The restroom door was half open, and I
[26:28] Speaker 1: saw legs sticking out. The man was on the ground,
[26:32] Speaker 1: face up, blood slowly pooling under his head and just
[26:36] Speaker 1: beside his hand a folded piece of paper. Ava stepped away,
[26:40] Speaker 1: covering her mouth. I didn't move. I just stared at
[26:44] Speaker 1: that note on the ground. The paper was wrinkled, stained.
[26:48] Speaker 1: Looked like it had been in his pocket for days.
[26:51] Speaker 1: A corner was torn. I didn't pick it up, but
[26:54] Speaker 1: I could read the writing from where I stood. Thick,
[26:57] Speaker 1: uneven black letters written in marker. Tell them I tried
[27:00] Speaker 1: to be normal. That's it. That's all it said. The
[27:04] Speaker 1: younger worker called the cops. Ava leaned against the drink cooler,
[27:08] Speaker 1: arms crossed, her breath shallow. I knew something was wrong,
[27:13] Speaker 1: she said, more to herself than anyone. He just kept
[27:17] Speaker 1: coming back. While we waited for the ambulance, I learned
[27:22] Speaker 1: the guy's name was Lucas Moran. Forty-ish, maybe thirty-nine. No
[27:27] Speaker 1: fixed address. He'd come in a few times over the
[27:30] Speaker 1: last few weeks, never bought anything, never said much, just
[27:34] Speaker 1: hung out near the restrooms or stared at the hot
[27:36] Speaker 1: dog machine for 20 minutes. He asked me once what
[27:40] Speaker 1: time the sky changes color. Ava said, I thought he
[27:44] Speaker 1: was just high. When the police arrived, I stepped back,
[27:48] Speaker 1: gave a quick statement, told them what I saw, how
[27:51] Speaker 1: he didn't speak, just paced. The EMTs took their time.
[27:55] Speaker 1: They didn't rush in like on TV. They walked in slow,
[27:59] Speaker 1: calm quiet that's how I knew there was no emergency
[28:03] Speaker 1: left no saving a stretcher a zipped bag the paper
[28:07] Speaker 1: collected in a clear evidence envelope and that was it
[28:11] Speaker 1: I didn't sleep much that night I kept seeing his
[28:13] Speaker 1: eyes not scared not angry just gone like whatever held
[28:18] Speaker 1: a person together had left a long time ago I
[28:21] Speaker 1: told myself not to think about it not my fault
[28:24] Speaker 1: not my business I didn't know the guy but it
[28:29] Speaker 1: stuck with me. The next Friday, I drove past the
[28:32] Speaker 1: same Circle K, fully intending to stop, but I kept driving.
[28:37] Speaker 1: Ended up eating chips from a vending machine at work instead.
[28:40] Speaker 1: The week after I did stop, Ava wasn't working. A
[28:44] Speaker 1: new guy was at the register. There was a new
[28:46] Speaker 1: keypad lock on the restroom hallway. Employees only now. I
[28:50] Speaker 1: guess corporate got involved. That stool by the window was
[28:53] Speaker 1: still there, but I didn't sit. I paid for my
[28:56] Speaker 1: energy drink, walked out, sat in my car and just
[28:59] Speaker 1: watched the entrance for a few minutes nobody paced nobody
[29:03] Speaker 1: stared just people coming and going but the silence in
[29:08] Speaker 1: that building still felt heavy like it remembered him it's
[29:12] Speaker 1: been three months now i still work the same warehouse
[29:16] Speaker 1: shift i still grab gas station food more often than
[29:19] Speaker 1: i should but i haven't sat at that circle k
[29:22] Speaker 1: window since that night some nights when the I think
[29:28] Speaker 1: about Lucas. About that note. Tell them I tried to
[29:33] Speaker 1: be normal. There was something heartbreaking in the way he
[29:37] Speaker 1: wrote it. Not angry. Not dramatic. just... resigned. Like he
[29:44] Speaker 1: wanted someone, anyone, to understand that he did the best
[29:47] Speaker 1: he could. I don't know what his life was like,
[29:51] Speaker 1: but I know what it's like to feel invisible. To
[29:55] Speaker 1: want someone to see you before it's too late. If
[29:58] Speaker 1: I'd said something when I nodded, If someone had asked
[30:02] Speaker 1: him a real question, maybe it wouldn't have changed anything,
[30:07] Speaker 1: but maybe it would have. You never know what someone
[30:11] Speaker 1: is carrying behind their silence. Sometimes the smallest acknowledgement, a hello,
[30:18] Speaker 1: a question, a moment of presence is more important than
[30:21] Speaker 1: we realize. And sometimes being human means seeing humanity in
[30:25] Speaker 1: someone else before it disappears. It was supposed to be
[30:32] Speaker 1: a fun road trip. Just me and Tessa, a full
[30:35] Speaker 1: tank of gas, and an excuse to get out of
[30:38] Speaker 1: Indiana for a few days. We'd been dating about six months,
[30:41] Speaker 1: and this was our first big thing, driving all the
[30:44] Speaker 1: way down to Biloxi to visit her cousin. She was excited.
[30:48] Speaker 1: I was excited. Felt like our first real taste of
[30:52] Speaker 1: adult life. We left Bloomington early Saturday, stayed the night
[30:56] Speaker 1: in Memphis, and were halfway through Arkansas by the time
[30:59] Speaker 1: we rolled into Sunday. Somewhere near Little Rock we stopped
[31:03] Speaker 1: to refuel at this quiet little Circle K just off
[31:05] Speaker 1: Highway Exit 232. Not the usual kind with all the
[31:09] Speaker 1: chains clustered around it. This was one of those lone
[31:12] Speaker 1: stations by itself with dry grass and a heat shimmer
[31:15] Speaker 1: on the asphalt. I pulled in, filled up the tank,
[31:19] Speaker 1: and we headed inside for snacks. I grabbed an iced
[31:22] Speaker 1: tea and some trail mix, and Tessa picked out one
[31:25] Speaker 1: of those warm ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in foil.
[31:29] Speaker 1: She loved those things for some reason. We didn't think
[31:32] Speaker 1: twice about it. Outside, there were two metal picnic benches
[31:36] Speaker 1: along the side wall. We sat, stretched our legs, laughed
[31:40] Speaker 1: about some playlist we'd argued over earlier. Then I noticed
[31:44] Speaker 1: the white GMC pickup, parked near the dumpster. Windows tinted,
[31:48] Speaker 1: hood dusty like it hadn't moved much. A guy stepped out, tallish,
[31:53] Speaker 1: mid to late forties, beard patchy, skin red like he'd
[31:57] Speaker 1: spent too many summers in the sun without sunscreen. He
[32:00] Speaker 1: walked into the store, didn't buy anything, then came back
[32:04] Speaker 1: out and sat at the table right next to us.
[32:08] Speaker 1: Tessa went quiet. I tried not to make a big deal,
[32:12] Speaker 1: just smiled politely and nodded like, Yeah, we see you.
[32:17] Speaker 1: Not trying to start anything. That's when he leaned forward
[32:20] Speaker 1: and said, You two remind me of someone I used
[32:22] Speaker 1: to know. Just like that. Flat voice. Not warm. Not creepy. Just... empty.
[32:31] Speaker 1: I gave him a nod and a quick, cool, trying
[32:34] Speaker 1: to keep it light. But in my gut, I felt it.
[32:39] Speaker 1: Something about the way he looked at Tessa. Like he
[32:42] Speaker 1: wasn't seeing her exactly. Like he was remembering something she
[32:46] Speaker 1: had nothing to do with. We didn't rush off. Maybe
[32:50] Speaker 1: that was our first mistake. But we didn't linger either.
[32:55] Speaker 1: Tessa said she didn't feel like finishing her sandwich. I
[32:59] Speaker 1: could tell something had shifted. She wasn't chatty anymore. Just
[33:03] Speaker 1: watching the man from the corner of her eye as
[33:05] Speaker 1: we walked back to the car. When I pulled out
[33:08] Speaker 1: of the lot, I checked the mirror out of habit.
[33:10] Speaker 1: The white truck was still parked. Good, I thought. That's it. Done.
[33:15] Speaker 1: Two minutes later, I looked again. The truck was behind us.
[33:19] Speaker 1: Not tailgating, but not backing off either. You see that?
[33:23] Speaker 1: I asked. Tessa didn't answer right away. She glanced behind
[33:27] Speaker 1: us and whispered, Yeah. Yeah. He's following. I tried to
[33:33] Speaker 1: keep it together, took a normal left turn onto the
[33:36] Speaker 1: service road. The truck followed. I took a U-turn where
[33:40] Speaker 1: it made no sense to do one. The kind of
[33:42] Speaker 1: turn you only make when you forget something or you're lost.
[33:46] Speaker 1: The truck turned with us. That's when my stomach dropped.
[33:50] Speaker 1: We didn't know what to do. We weren't armed. No
[33:52] Speaker 1: pepper spray. Just a tire iron in the back and
[33:55] Speaker 1: a whole lot of panic. Tessa was crying quietly, phone
[33:59] Speaker 1: in her lap. I told her to dial 911, but
[34:02] Speaker 1: we were in the middle of nowhere. One bar of service.
[34:06] Speaker 1: The call wouldn't go through. Take an exit, she said. Anywhere.
[34:12] Speaker 1: Just take it. I took the next right. A narrow
[34:16] Speaker 1: pull-off labeled Scenic Overlook State Park Access. I didn't even
[34:21] Speaker 1: know where it led. It just felt like maybe someone
[34:23] Speaker 1: would be there. A ranger. A family. Anyone. Anyone. The
[34:29] Speaker 1: gravel crunched under our tires as I pulled into the lot.
[34:33] Speaker 1: It was mostly empty except for a rusted out sedan
[34:35] Speaker 1: and a couple trail signs. The white truck pulled in
[34:39] Speaker 1: right after us. I threw the car in park, got
[34:42] Speaker 1: out before I could talk myself out of it. I
[34:44] Speaker 1: grabbed the tire iron from the trunk and stood between
[34:47] Speaker 1: the man and our car. He stepped out of the
[34:49] Speaker 1: truck casually, like this was no big deal. Whoa, whoa,
[34:53] Speaker 1: he said. Easy, kid. Tessa stayed in the car, doors locked,
[34:59] Speaker 1: eyes wide. I stood there, heart pounding in my ears.
[35:03] Speaker 1: I didn't say a word. I didn't trust my voice.
[35:06] Speaker 1: That's when I saw it. A hunting knife in his hand,
[35:10] Speaker 1: half concealed behind his leg. It wasn't raised, but it
[35:13] Speaker 1: wasn't sheathed either. I just wanted to talk, he said.
[35:19] Speaker 1: She looks like someone I knew, that's all. I took
[35:23] Speaker 1: a step forward, pointed the tire iron at the ground
[35:25] Speaker 1: between us. You've been following us for 20 minutes, I said.
[35:29] Speaker 1: Stay back. The man's face shifted, like a switch. From
[35:34] Speaker 1: calm to agitated. His shoulders squared. He stepped forward. One step. Two.
[35:41] Speaker 1: I swung once. Not at him, but hard enough to
[35:44] Speaker 1: send a message. The sound of metal against gravel cracked
[35:48] Speaker 1: like thunder. That's when we both heard it. A voice
[35:51] Speaker 1: behind us. Put it down. Now. It was a ranger.
[35:57] Speaker 1: Walking down from the trailhead. Radio in hand. hand resting
[36:01] Speaker 1: on his hip. The man froze, didn't drop the knife
[36:04] Speaker 1: right away. I said drop it. This time he obeyed.
[36:09] Speaker 1: The ranger called it in, walked us away slowly. His
[36:12] Speaker 1: tone shifted once we were clear, more concerned than angry.
[36:17] Speaker 1: You two got lucky, he said. Man's been reported before.
[36:21] Speaker 1: No warrants stuck, always just off the line. The cops
[36:25] Speaker 1: showed up 20 minutes later. The man, Roy Holden, didn't
[36:30] Speaker 1: resist he barely said a word when they searched his
[36:34] Speaker 1: truck they found more than we expected empty food wrappers
[36:38] Speaker 1: maps a half-filled journal with bizarre notes and dates but
[36:43] Speaker 1: the thing that hit hardest was the photo they pulled
[36:46] Speaker 1: from his glove box a polaroid old and faded of
[36:50] Speaker 1: a young couple the guy looked a lot like me
[36:54] Speaker 1: right down to the messy hair the girl not tessa
[36:58] Speaker 1: but close Same brown hair, same frame, same smile, except
[37:04] Speaker 1: hers was strained. And in the photo, she had a
[37:07] Speaker 1: black eye. Tessa didn't say anything when they showed it
[37:11] Speaker 1: to us, just stared at it like it was something
[37:13] Speaker 1: out of a bad dream. I watched her clutch her
[37:16] Speaker 1: arm and slowly set her uneaten sandwich on the car
[37:19] Speaker 1: seat like it didn't belong in her hands anymore. One
[37:23] Speaker 1: of the officers muttered something about mental health, about prior
[37:26] Speaker 1: reports from other states. but it didn't matter. We knew
[37:31] Speaker 1: what could have happened. We knew we got out just
[37:34] Speaker 1: in time. Back on the road, neither of us spoke
[37:37] Speaker 1: for almost an hour. It's been six months since that trip.
[37:42] Speaker 1: We made it to Biloxi, but we left early. Couldn't
[37:45] Speaker 1: really relax after what happened. Tessa doesn't like road trips anymore.
[37:50] Speaker 1: She drives to work and class, that's it. She keeps
[37:53] Speaker 1: pepper spray on her keychain now and checks the back
[37:55] Speaker 1: seat before getting in. As for me, I don't stop
[37:59] Speaker 1: at out-of-the-way places anymore. Not if I can help it.
[38:03] Speaker 1: I plan gas stops ahead of time, stick to daylight hours,
[38:07] Speaker 1: fuel up when I hit half a tank. Just in case. Sometimes, though,
[38:12] Speaker 1: in certain parking lots or when someone stares too long,
[38:15] Speaker 1: I feel it again. That dry Arkansas air. That flat
[38:20] Speaker 1: voice saying, she looks like someone I knew. It sticks
[38:24] Speaker 1: with you. The scariest part isn't that it happened. It's
[38:28] Speaker 1: how easily it could have gone another way. Trust your instincts.
[38:33] Speaker 1: Even when it feels like overreacting, it's better to be
[38:36] Speaker 1: safe than sorry. Not everyone you meet is dangerous, but
[38:39] Speaker 1: the ones who are don't always come with warnings. Don't
[38:43] Speaker 1: ignore the pit in your stomach. It's there for a reason.
[38:49] Speaker 1: Every Tuesday, like clockwork, me, Marina, and Tiff would hit
[38:53] Speaker 1: our hot yoga class at the strip mall on Wilmington Island.
[38:56] Speaker 1: then cruise five minutes down Northridge Avenue to the Circle
[38:59] Speaker 1: K for snacks. I don't know when it became tradition,
[39:03] Speaker 1: probably sometime in junior year when everything else started feeling heavy.
[39:07] Speaker 1: College apps, parents fighting, and trying to hold it together
[39:10] Speaker 1: in a town where nothing really changes. Miss Cynthia always
[39:14] Speaker 1: greeted us with her bright smile and called us my girls.
[39:17] Speaker 1: She was that mix of southern charm and sass, and
[39:20] Speaker 1: she always knew our favorites. Glacier Freeze for Marina, Sour
[39:24] Speaker 1: Gummies for Tiff, and kettle chips for me. She made
[39:28] Speaker 1: the place feel warm, even when it smelled like burnt
[39:31] Speaker 1: coffee and pine cleaner. But the day she wasn't there,
[39:34] Speaker 1: something felt... off. He stood behind the counter, a tall,
[39:39] Speaker 1: wiry man with pale skin and huge, glassy eyes. Like
[39:43] Speaker 1: a frog. That's what Tiff whispered the second we got
[39:46] Speaker 1: back in my car. Froggy. total froggy vibes he barely
[39:52] Speaker 1: blinked barely spoke just muttered prices under his breath and
[39:56] Speaker 1: stared too long like he wasn't sure what people were
[39:59] Speaker 1: for at first we figured he was just tired or
[40:02] Speaker 1: new we've all had off days but froggy kept showing
[40:06] Speaker 1: up week after week never friendly never mean just weird
[40:12] Speaker 1: he'd forget to bag your stuff unless you reminded him
[40:16] Speaker 1: he'd chuckle at nothing One time he smelled the Gatorade
[40:19] Speaker 1: before handing it over, I swear. Tiff said maybe he
[40:23] Speaker 1: was on something. Marina said maybe he had a head injury.
[40:27] Speaker 1: I told myself to stop being dramatic. But I still
[40:30] Speaker 1: missed Miss Cynthia. We never asked where she went. That
[40:35] Speaker 1: was our mistake. One Tuesday we went earlier than usual.
[40:39] Speaker 1: Yoga got cancelled because of a plumbing issue. So we
[40:42] Speaker 1: hit Circle K around 6.30 instead of 7.15. Still hot out.
[40:47] Speaker 1: that late Georgia sun pressing down on the lot. Inside,
[40:51] Speaker 1: it was dead. No other customers. The coolers hummed loud.
[40:55] Speaker 1: It smelled weird, like burnt plastic and... something metallic. Marina
[41:01] Speaker 1: went to the fridges, Tiff made a beeline for the
[41:03] Speaker 1: snack wall, and I headed to the counter with my
[41:06] Speaker 1: usual kettle chips and a white chocolate protein bar. Froggy
[41:10] Speaker 1: was there, of course. He didn't say hi. He never did.
[41:14] Speaker 1: He scanned my stuff without looking down, Then he just
[41:18] Speaker 1: held the bag out. But he didn't let go. His
[41:22] Speaker 1: hand stayed wrapped around the plastic like it was glued there.
[41:26] Speaker 1: His eyes locked on mine, big and glassy. You like chicken,
[41:30] Speaker 1: don't you? He asked. My mouth went dry. What? He
[41:36] Speaker 1: didn't repeat it. Just smiled. That kind of smile you
[41:41] Speaker 1: see on people who laugh at their own thoughts. And
[41:44] Speaker 1: turned around. fiddling with the receipt printer like nothing happened.
[41:48] Speaker 1: When we got to the car, I tossed the bag
[41:50] Speaker 1: in the backseat and sat in silence. I didn't even
[41:54] Speaker 1: want to open the chips. Tiff was still giggling over
[41:58] Speaker 1: the name of some new energy bar. Blood Orange Rush.
[42:02] Speaker 1: She unwrapped it and passed me one of the chips,
[42:05] Speaker 1: half as a peace offering. I popped it in my mouth.
[42:09] Speaker 1: Something was off. Way off. It wasn't the salt. It
[42:14] Speaker 1: was metallic. Sharp. Like old vinegar in something I couldn't place.
[42:20] Speaker 1: My stomach turned. Tiff grabbed one and held it to
[42:23] Speaker 1: her nose. What the hell is this? She asked. It
[42:27] Speaker 1: smells like rust. I spit mine out and wiped my
[42:30] Speaker 1: tongue on my sleeve. It wasn't a seasoning I'd ever
[42:33] Speaker 1: tasted before. It didn't feel like a seasoning at all.
[42:37] Speaker 1: We drove straight to my house. My dad was in
[42:39] Speaker 1: the garage changing the oil in his truck. I was
[42:42] Speaker 1: shaking by the time we pulled in. Someone needs to
[42:45] Speaker 1: talk to that guy, I said. Seriously. My dad's a mechanic,
[42:51] Speaker 1: but more than that, he's a dad. Protective in that quiet,
[42:55] Speaker 1: fix-it-with-my-own-hands kind of way. I told him everything. The weird
[43:00] Speaker 1: chicken comment, the chips, how Froggy had been there for weeks.
[43:04] Speaker 1: He didn't laugh, didn't even roll his eyes like I expected.
[43:09] Speaker 1: Get in the truck, he said. We drove back. I
[43:13] Speaker 1: didn't go inside with him. Just watched from the passenger
[43:16] Speaker 1: seat while he walked into that too bright store with
[43:18] Speaker 1: his military boots and mechanics confidence. He came back out
[43:22] Speaker 1: five minutes later, shaking his head. He's not there, he said.
[43:27] Speaker 1: I sat up straight. What do you mean? The lady
[43:31] Speaker 1: at the counter, younger, maybe early twenties, him said there's
[43:34] Speaker 1: no one named that on payroll. No man, no temperature.
[43:38] Speaker 1: Said maybe I was confused with another location. No way,
[43:42] Speaker 1: I said. He was there an hour ago. He's always there.
[43:46] Speaker 1: Dad shrugged. She said only women work evening shifts now.
[43:50] Speaker 1: Cynthia's out on medical. Didn't say what. I wanted to
[43:53] Speaker 1: go back in. Make them prove it. Show security footage.
[43:57] Speaker 1: But I didn't. Something in the way the clerk looked
[44:00] Speaker 1: at my dad. That polite corporate please leave us alone look.
[44:04] Speaker 1: Made me stay put. That night, I threw away the
[44:08] Speaker 1: rest of the chips. My stomach still twisted every time
[44:11] Speaker 1: I remembered the taste. A week passed. We started going
[44:15] Speaker 1: to a different Circle K, ten minutes farther out, but
[44:19] Speaker 1: cleaner and brighter and, most importantly, froggy-free. We didn't talk
[44:24] Speaker 1: about him much. Part of me hoped it had been
[44:27] Speaker 1: some freak moment, a glitch in reality, something we'd laugh
[44:31] Speaker 1: about later when we were older. Then the postcard arrived.
[44:35] Speaker 1: It came to my house. No return address. Just my name,
[44:39] Speaker 1: Isabel Jordan, written in shaky red ink. The front was
[44:44] Speaker 1: a cartoon drawing of a chef holding a platter. I
[44:47] Speaker 1: flipped it over, scrawled across the back in uneven handwriting.
[44:52] Speaker 1: I'll cook something better next time. My hands went ice cold.
[44:56] Speaker 1: I ran inside and showed it to my mom. She
[44:59] Speaker 1: thought it was a prank my dad didn't. He called
[45:01] Speaker 1: the post office, then the cops. A report was filed,
[45:05] Speaker 1: but with no return address and no name. Nothing really
[45:08] Speaker 1: came of it. I stopped going anywhere alone after that.
[45:12] Speaker 1: marina offered to drive us all the time now tiff
[45:15] Speaker 1: deleted our snap map locations we never heard about miss
[45:19] Speaker 1: cynthia again sometimes i wonder if froggy was ever real
[45:23] Speaker 1: i know that sounds stupid we saw him week after
[45:26] Speaker 1: week his big bug eyes the way he hovered how
[45:29] Speaker 1: he never blinked but the postcard made me realize something
[45:33] Speaker 1: worse maybe we weren't the first girls he watched maybe
[45:37] Speaker 1: we just happened to notice we still go to yoga
[45:41] Speaker 1: still snack after but never at North Ridge. I don't
[45:46] Speaker 1: even take that road anymore. I check the mailbox every day.
[45:50] Speaker 1: My dad installed a camera. We started locking our doors,
[45:54] Speaker 1: like really locking them, even during the day. I started
[45:58] Speaker 1: carrying pepper spray in my backpack. The world didn't suddenly
[46:02] Speaker 1: become dangerous that night. It had always been. We just
[46:06] Speaker 1: didn't see it until then. And every time I open
[46:10] Speaker 1: a bag of chips now, I check for anything that
[46:12] Speaker 1: doesn't look right, anything that smells wrong, because you never
[46:17] Speaker 1: know who's watching or what they're planning for next time.
[46:21] Speaker 1: Just because someone seems harmless doesn't mean they are. Always
[46:25] Speaker 1: trust your gut, especially when something, or someone, feels off.
[46:32] Speaker 1: Safety isn't about being paranoid. It's about staying aware, even
[46:36] Speaker 1: when the world tries to gaslight you into thinking you're overreacting.
[46:44] Speaker 1: I never meant to leave the house that night. It
[46:46] Speaker 1: was one of those long Wednesdays that dragged into Thursday
[46:49] Speaker 1: before you noticed. I'd worked a full shift at the
[46:52] Speaker 1: used car lot off Sierra Highway, filled out paperwork for
[46:55] Speaker 1: a guy who backed out of financing after we detailed
[46:58] Speaker 1: the Civic, and then sat through two hours of my
[47:00] Speaker 1: manager explaining gross margin on warranties I'd already memorized. When
[47:05] Speaker 1: I got home, I microwaved leftover wings, threw on heat
[47:08] Speaker 1: for the millionth time, and zoned out. By 1.30 a.m.,
[47:12] Speaker 1: the wings were gone, my mouth was dry, and I
[47:14] Speaker 1: realized I hadn't stocked up on drinks or snacks. Circle
[47:17] Speaker 1: K was just six minutes down East Palmdale Boulevard. I
[47:20] Speaker 1: figured I'd run in, grab a Coke, some cool ranch Doritos,
[47:24] Speaker 1: maybe one of those sad little burritos they keep on
[47:26] Speaker 1: the rollers. I threw on a hoodie and flip-flops, keys
[47:30] Speaker 1: in hand, no wallet, just a crumpled $ 10 bill from
[47:33] Speaker 1: my car's center console. The place was mostly dark except
[47:37] Speaker 1: for the sickly flicker of fluorescent tubes near the back.
[47:41] Speaker 1: No music playing, which was unusual. Just that hum from
[47:44] Speaker 1: the fridge coolers and the occasional beep from the lottery machine.
[47:48] Speaker 1: Something about it felt... thinner. Like a place left behind
[47:53] Speaker 1: by time. That's when I noticed her. She stood by
[47:57] Speaker 1: the coffee station. Pale legs. Barefoot. Hair like it hadn't
[48:02] Speaker 1: seen a brush in weeks. A long, wrinkled gray dress
[48:06] Speaker 1: that hung too loose for her frame. She was staring
[48:09] Speaker 1: at the sugar packets like she was trying to remember
[48:11] Speaker 1: what they were for. Her fingers trembled near the stir sticks.
[48:15] Speaker 1: There was a clerk behind the register. A guy with
[48:18] Speaker 1: earbuds in. Probably in his forties. Looked like he was
[48:22] Speaker 1: halfway through a podcast. He kept sneaking glances at her
[48:26] Speaker 1: but never said anything. Just tapped at his phone like
[48:29] Speaker 1: it wasn't his problem. I should have walked away. Just
[48:33] Speaker 1: grabbed my coke and chips and left. But I didn't.
[48:37] Speaker 1: I walked toward the counter like it was any other night.
[48:40] Speaker 1: I didn't know then, but I was walking right into
[48:43] Speaker 1: something I wouldn't forget. I had just set the soda
[48:46] Speaker 1: and chips on the counter when she moved, fast, like
[48:49] Speaker 1: she was waiting for me. She turned from the sugar
[48:52] Speaker 1: packets and walked straight toward me, barefoot on the cold linoleum.
[48:56] Speaker 1: Her eyes were dark, not bloodshot, just hollow, like they'd
[49:01] Speaker 1: seen too much and stopped trying to process it. Her
[49:05] Speaker 1: skin looked like damp paper. stretched too thin. Have you
[49:09] Speaker 1: seen my dog? she asked. Her voice was barely a whisper,
[49:13] Speaker 1: but it carried. It was that kind of whisper that
[49:16] Speaker 1: makes the hairs on your arms rise, like it knew
[49:19] Speaker 1: how to bypass your ears and go straight to your chest.
[49:23] Speaker 1: I blinked. Uh. No. I haven't. What kind of dog?
[49:31] Speaker 1: He's a chihuahua, black and white. His name's Benny. He's small,
[49:35] Speaker 1: but he knows his way back. I glanced at the clerk.
[49:39] Speaker 1: who finally pulled one earbud out and sighed like this
[49:42] Speaker 1: had happened before. Ma'am, you asked the last three people
[49:46] Speaker 1: the same thing. Please don't block the register. But she
[49:50] Speaker 1: didn't move. Her eyes didn't leave mine. They weren't angry,
[49:54] Speaker 1: just lost. They took him, she said. I know they did.
[50:00] Speaker 1: The men with no eyes. I felt my jaw lock.
[50:04] Speaker 1: Then she pulled something from her coat pocket, a crumpled Polaroid.
[50:08] Speaker 1: and set it on the counter like it was evidence.
[50:11] Speaker 1: It was just grass. A blurry square of brownish green.
[50:15] Speaker 1: No house. No dog. No shadows. Just... grass. The kind
[50:21] Speaker 1: you see off any roadside in Palmdale. She tapped the
[50:24] Speaker 1: photo twice. He was there. I nodded. Not because I understood,
[50:29] Speaker 1: but because I didn't know what else to do. I
[50:32] Speaker 1: put the ten dollar bill on the counter and slid
[50:34] Speaker 1: my stuff toward the clerk. The woman didn't move. didn't blink.
[50:40] Speaker 1: As I backed away, she stayed planted by the counter,
[50:43] Speaker 1: gripping the photo like a child clutches a drawing. When
[50:46] Speaker 1: I left the store, the air outside felt colder than
[50:49] Speaker 1: when I arrived. It wasn't even about the weather. I
[50:52] Speaker 1: hustled to my car, heart beating a little too fast
[50:55] Speaker 1: for a snack run. She hadn't followed. I checked twice.
[51:00] Speaker 1: She stood just inside the circle K doors facing the glass,
[51:04] Speaker 1: not looking at me, not even looking out into the
[51:06] Speaker 1: parking lot. She was looking at herself. Or maybe at
[51:10] Speaker 1: something only she could see. I turned the ignition and
[51:13] Speaker 1: pulled out fast, tires crunching over loose gravel. For a
[51:17] Speaker 1: second I thought I saw movement behind me, the flash
[51:20] Speaker 1: of her dress in my rear view. But when I
[51:22] Speaker 1: glanced again, the window was clear. Empty. At home, I
[51:28] Speaker 1: left the snacks on the counter and went straight to bed.
[51:31] Speaker 1: But sleep didn't come easy. I kept picturing that photo
[51:34] Speaker 1: she held, that patch of dead grass. Her cracked voice saying,
[51:39] Speaker 1: they took him. Who were they? I told myself she
[51:43] Speaker 1: was just someone who'd lost too much. Maybe living out
[51:46] Speaker 1: of shelters. Maybe off her meds. That kind of sadness
[51:51] Speaker 1: makes people strange. I knew that. But it didn't explain
[51:55] Speaker 1: how still she was. How that empty store had felt
[51:58] Speaker 1: more like a waiting room for something wrong than a
[52:01] Speaker 1: convenience store. I didn't go back for two nights. But
[52:05] Speaker 1: I couldn't get her out of my head. It was
[52:07] Speaker 1: Sunday when I finally went back. During daylight this time.
[52:11] Speaker 1: The sun was out and families were pumping gas. It
[52:14] Speaker 1: felt normal. No flickering lights. No cold air that didn't
[52:19] Speaker 1: match the forecast. I bought gum and asked the morning cashier,
[52:23] Speaker 1: a younger guy with glasses and a friendly face. Hey,
[52:26] Speaker 1: that woman. Kind of thin, pale, barefoot. Long, gray dress.
[52:31] Speaker 1: You know who she is? He paused, then gave a
[52:34] Speaker 1: slow nod. Yeah. She's been coming around off and on
[52:38] Speaker 1: for years, mostly at night. Doesn't hurt anyone. Used to
[52:42] Speaker 1: live across the street before they tore those houses down
[52:45] Speaker 1: for the Dollar Tree. What's her story? I asked. He hesitated,
[52:51] Speaker 1: chewing his lip. She had a son, five, maybe six
[52:55] Speaker 1: years old. Got hit crossing the road out here, drunk driver,
[52:58] Speaker 1: real bad scene. Happened around midnight. She had a little
[53:02] Speaker 1: dog too, Chihuahua. Same night, dog ran off during the chaos.
[53:08] Speaker 1: Neither came back. I didn't say anything. Didn't need to.
[53:13] Speaker 1: He added quietly. She started showing up every few weeks.
[53:17] Speaker 1: Always talks about the dog. Sometimes the boy. Sometimes the photo.
[53:22] Speaker 1: I left the gum on the counter. Didn't need it anymore.
[53:26] Speaker 1: I never saw her again. Sometimes I wonder if I
[53:29] Speaker 1: imagined her. That's easier to believe than the truth. That
[53:34] Speaker 1: she's out there somewhere, walking barefoot down cracked sidewalks, asking
[53:38] Speaker 1: strangers about a dog that's been gone five years. But
[53:42] Speaker 1: I know I didn't imagine her. I remember the way
[53:45] Speaker 1: she stared. Not at me. Through me. Like I was
[53:50] Speaker 1: just the latest ghost she needed to talk to. And
[53:53] Speaker 1: I remember that photo. That empty patch of grass. Now,
[53:59] Speaker 1: every time I stop at that Circle K, always in daylight.
[54:03] Speaker 1: I glance toward the coffee station, and sometimes for just
[54:06] Speaker 1: a second I think I see someone standing there, thin, pale, waiting.
[54:12] Speaker 1: But there's never anyone. Grief doesn't always scream. Sometimes it
[54:17] Speaker 1: just whispers to strangers at 2 a.m. in convenience stores.
[54:21] Speaker 1: You never know what kind of pain someone carries. So
[54:23] Speaker 1: when something feels off, it might not be evil. It
[54:27] Speaker 1: might just be heartbreak in disguise. Stay human. Stay aware.
[54:32] Speaker 1: and always listen before you judge. I don't remember the
[54:38] Speaker 1: exact moment I realized my drive had turned into a blur.
[54:42] Speaker 1: Four hours straight from Dallas to Lubbock. No music, just
[54:46] Speaker 1: caffeine and exhaustion taking turns. I was tired in that
[54:49] Speaker 1: bone-deep way you feel after a long day at the
[54:52] Speaker 1: software support center and a weekend door knocking to see family.
[54:56] Speaker 1: By the time I exited onto Highway 84, I just
[54:59] Speaker 1: wanted a bottle of water and something sweet. something to
[55:01] Speaker 1: make my eyes not float closed on the highway again.
[55:05] Speaker 1: That's when I saw the Circle K. One lone pickup
[55:09] Speaker 1: under a flickering fluorescent sign. Some construction cones propped around
[55:13] Speaker 1: like nobody bothered to clean them up. I pulled in
[55:16] Speaker 1: and stopped before the sliding doors, blinked at them as
[55:19] Speaker 1: if they might flicker out at any second. Inside felt... off.
[55:26] Speaker 1: Empty aisles. Too bright, but kind of dim. No music playing,
[55:31] Speaker 1: just the hum of the coolers. No open register, just
[55:34] Speaker 1: a nervous young guy behind it, looking like he'd rather
[55:37] Speaker 1: be anywhere else. Then I noticed him, somewhere off to
[55:42] Speaker 1: the side. A man with a ripped Carhartt jacket, backpack
[55:46] Speaker 1: hanging off his shoulder like he was carrying the whole world.
[55:49] Speaker 1: He was buying six energy drinks, jerky, and a handful
[55:53] Speaker 1: of peanut butter cups. The clerk kept checking the backpack,
[55:57] Speaker 1: eyes rolling to the ceiling, scanning mirrors, Shifting uncomfortably. That's
[56:03] Speaker 1: when I heard him. Not directly, but breaching the silence.
[56:08] Speaker 1: Can't sleep. Can't stop. They'll find me. Not tonight. Not tonight.
[56:15] Speaker 1: He looked unwell. Scruffy beard, hollow cheeks, eyes darting. Something
[56:21] Speaker 1: about the way he muttered made a knot in my gut.
[56:24] Speaker 1: I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and
[56:26] Speaker 1: tried tuning him out. But his voice echoed every time
[56:29] Speaker 1: I took a sip. I told myself he was just
[56:32] Speaker 1: someone having a bad night. Maybe mental health or drugs
[56:35] Speaker 1: or just a hard life. But I felt the store
[56:39] Speaker 1: tighten around me. The tension was thick, like the air
[56:42] Speaker 1: before a storm. I headed to the counter with my
[56:45] Speaker 1: water and sugary candy bar, heart doing a jittery drumroll.
[56:50] Speaker 1: Our eyes met briefly. His looked haunted. Mine tried to
[56:54] Speaker 1: stay polite. Then I paid and walked toward the door,
[56:57] Speaker 1: pretending I didn't notice him following. just one step behind.
[57:02] Speaker 1: I felt his hot breath like a warning. I thought
[57:05] Speaker 1: I was imagining it, just a trick of the faint
[57:07] Speaker 1: fluorescent light or the heat radiating off the asphalt outside.
[57:11] Speaker 1: But when I turned to leave, he spoke again. They
[57:15] Speaker 1: already know your plate. They're watching you now too. I
[57:18] Speaker 1: froze like a deer caught in headlights. He was so
[57:22] Speaker 1: close my shoulder hardened against his backpack. Something primal in
[57:26] Speaker 1: me typed fight or flight and I chose flight. I
[57:29] Speaker 1: dropped my candy on the counter and bolted out. The
[57:32] Speaker 1: clerk barely even glanced up, just said, have a good night, man,
[57:36] Speaker 1: like he'd heard worse. I didn't say anything. I just
[57:39] Speaker 1: got out. Outside, it was quiet, sweaty. The night smelled
[57:44] Speaker 1: like dust and something mechanical. I jumped into my car
[57:49] Speaker 1: and cranked it. The engine roared louder than my heart.
[57:53] Speaker 1: I reversed fast and backed onto the service road. Didn't
[57:57] Speaker 1: look back. but in my peripheral I saw him, standing
[58:01] Speaker 1: by the door, just sitting on the sidewalk next to
[58:04] Speaker 1: the ice machine, legs cross-legged, whispering to himself, just waiting,
[58:10] Speaker 1: like this was his spot, part of his routine. I
[58:14] Speaker 1: stared for a second, then turned and drove off before
[58:17] Speaker 1: my brain even fully caught up. I couldn't go home yet,
[58:21] Speaker 1: not with that thought in my head. So I drove.
[58:25] Speaker 1: Just sat in circles around the area, checking the rear
[58:27] Speaker 1: view every 30 seconds. Bright lights, dark lights, stop sign lights.
[58:33] Speaker 1: I watched all of them. Each reflection felt like potential
[58:37] Speaker 1: eyes on me. I called my roommate and explained it
[58:39] Speaker 1: all over the phone without breathing. Dude, I'm not making sense,
[58:44] Speaker 1: but something was wrong. He followed me. He said they
[58:47] Speaker 1: know your plate. She went quiet, then said, Get somewhere
[58:52] Speaker 1: safe before man mode shuts off. so I grabbed coffee
[58:55] Speaker 1: at a 24-hour diner and asked for hot water just
[58:58] Speaker 1: to hold. Half an hour later, I went home. But
[59:02] Speaker 1: sleep didn't come easy. I lay in bed staring at
[59:05] Speaker 1: my ceiling fan, thinking about his backpack. What was in
[59:09] Speaker 1: it that made him so nervous so desperate morning came
[59:13] Speaker 1: with sunlight I almost resented I went to work eyes
[59:17] Speaker 1: shifting every time a stranger entered the office that afternoon
[59:21] Speaker 1: I got a call from circle K's night manager he
[59:23] Speaker 1: said the man hadn't been seen since said apologies probably
[59:27] Speaker 1: just a creepy customer I didn't know what I expected,
[59:30] Speaker 1: but I felt relieved and angry. They might not report it,
[59:34] Speaker 1: but I lived it. Then, two days later, local news
[59:38] Speaker 1: popped up on my feed. Police had found a suspicious
[59:41] Speaker 1: backpack under a highway overpass just two blocks from that
[59:44] Speaker 1: Circle K. They cordoned off the area for public safety.
[59:48] Speaker 1: No details given. I stared at the photo of an
[59:51] Speaker 1: unmarked black backpack sitting under a concrete arch, right where
[59:55] Speaker 1: that man would have walked. I felt an echo in
[59:58] Speaker 1: my chest. I noticed my car's license plate reflecting in
[1:00:01] Speaker 1: the screen. I'd kept the plate cleaner since that night.
[1:00:05] Speaker 1: Felt ridiculous. I don't go that Circle K anymore. I'll
[1:00:08] Speaker 1: fuel up somewhere else. Tesco, random station, anything not by
[1:00:12] Speaker 1: that service road. Works back to normal. Hangovers from code bugs,
[1:00:16] Speaker 1: weird support calls. I still drive late at night to
[1:00:20] Speaker 1: Starbucks two miles farther. Need the caffeine, sure, but also
[1:00:23] Speaker 1: the people. Even if they don't know me. Sometimes at
[1:00:28] Speaker 1: midnight I catch a reflection in a car mirror or
[1:00:30] Speaker 1: a storefront window. I'm always checking that no one's behind me.
[1:00:35] Speaker 1: But beyond that, I wonder what that man was running from.
[1:00:39] Speaker 1: Or two. Could be delusion. Could be a conspiracy. Could
[1:00:43] Speaker 1: be nothing. Doesn't matter. He said they're watching you. And
[1:00:47] Speaker 1: I believed him. Because he believed it first. Trust your gut.
[1:00:52] Speaker 1: Don't dismiss the quietly disturbing moments. Sometimes safety isn't about logic.
[1:00:57] Speaker 1: It's about instincts reacting to the world our brains haven't
[1:01:00] Speaker 1: fully processed. Don't let politeness shut down your alarm. If
[1:01:05] Speaker 1: someone's fear pushes a normal person into circles at midnight,
[1:01:08] Speaker 1: that fear matters. Stay aware. Stay alive. My name's Devin Hill.
[1:01:17] Speaker 1: Back in late 2022, I was 19, juggling general ed
[1:01:20] Speaker 1: courses at a local community college and working a dishwashing
[1:01:23] Speaker 1: job at Pete's Diner. right across from a Circle K
[1:01:26] Speaker 1: on Sergeant Road in Indianapolis. I wasn't doing anything glamorous,
[1:01:30] Speaker 1: just trying to stay ahead on bills and avoid moving
[1:01:32] Speaker 1: back in with my mom. Pete's wasn't fancy. The kitchen
[1:01:36] Speaker 1: was always hot, the shifts long, and the manager, Mick,
[1:01:39] Speaker 1: had this used car salesman vibe. He acted friendly, called
[1:01:44] Speaker 1: everyone big man or rock star. But deep down, you
[1:01:47] Speaker 1: knew he'd sell you out the minute it got inconvenient.
[1:01:50] Speaker 1: It was a Tuesday. Gray skies, cold drizzle all morning.
[1:01:54] Speaker 1: I was halfway through drying trays when Mick called me
[1:01:57] Speaker 1: into his little office. The place smelled like microwaved sausage
[1:02:00] Speaker 1: and old cologne. He leaned back in his chair, cracked
[1:02:04] Speaker 1: knuckles and grinned. Dev, my guy, he said. Kitchen's over
[1:02:09] Speaker 1: by two guys this week. Take a few days off.
[1:02:11] Speaker 1: You've earned it. I hesitated. You sure? I could pick
[1:02:16] Speaker 1: up shifts instead. Nah, he said, brushing it off. We're
[1:02:21] Speaker 1: just trying to avoid overtime. Nothing personal. I figured a
[1:02:25] Speaker 1: short break wouldn't kill me. I clocked out, grabbed a
[1:02:29] Speaker 1: fountain drink from Circle K, and stood under the overhang,
[1:02:32] Speaker 1: waiting for my sister to pick me up. I scrolled
[1:02:36] Speaker 1: my phone, thinking about my math test and whether I
[1:02:38] Speaker 1: should finally drop the class. I didn't know it then,
[1:02:42] Speaker 1: but that would be my last calm day for a while.
[1:02:45] Speaker 1: Two days later, I was at home trying to finish
[1:02:48] Speaker 1: an essay when I got a call from a blocked number.
[1:02:51] Speaker 1: I almost let it go to voicemail. This is Devon, Hi, Mr. Hill.
[1:02:56] Speaker 1: This is Linda from HR at Pete's Diner. I'm calling
[1:02:59] Speaker 1: to notify you that your employment has been terminated effective immediately. What? Why?
[1:03:05] Speaker 1: There's security footage of you operating the company vehicle during
[1:03:08] Speaker 1: a hit-and-run incident. Damage to a parked car. Serious liability.
[1:03:12] Speaker 1: I sat up, stunned. I've never driven that car. Mick
[1:03:16] Speaker 1: won't even let me mop without asking. She sighed like
[1:03:20] Speaker 1: she'd heard every excuse. Your ID, apron, and name tag
[1:03:23] Speaker 1: were all visible. It's an internal decision. She hung up.
[1:03:28] Speaker 1: I stared at the wall. I hadn't even been at
[1:03:31] Speaker 1: work that day. And now I was fired over something
[1:03:34] Speaker 1: I didn't do. My hands were shaking. I texted Mick.
[1:03:38] Speaker 1: No reply. I called. Straight to voicemail. I felt this
[1:03:42] Speaker 1: cold drop in my stomach. I knew something was off,
[1:03:45] Speaker 1: but I didn't know how bad it was yet. The
[1:03:48] Speaker 1: next morning, I headed straight to Circle K. Janelle, the
[1:03:51] Speaker 1: day shift lead, was behind the counter. She'd always been
[1:03:55] Speaker 1: chill with me, called me quiet kid but meant it
[1:03:57] Speaker 1: as a compliment. Hey Janelle, can I ask you something
[1:04:01] Speaker 1: kind of weird? She looked up. You okay? Not really.
[1:04:07] Speaker 1: I think someone at the diner used my uniform to
[1:04:09] Speaker 1: do something shady. Any chance I could see the camera
[1:04:12] Speaker 1: footage from Tuesday? She raised a brow. You think you
[1:04:16] Speaker 1: were framed? I know I didn't do it. Janelle checked
[1:04:20] Speaker 1: if the manager was out. Then she led me into
[1:04:23] Speaker 1: the back room. We scrubbed through footage and at exactly 2.43 p.m.,
[1:04:28] Speaker 1: there it was. A guy walking out of the diner
[1:04:31] Speaker 1: kitchen in my Pete's apron. Same building, same walk. But
[1:04:35] Speaker 1: when he turned slightly, the side angle told the truth.
[1:04:39] Speaker 1: That's Travis, I said. Janelle paused. The line cook with
[1:04:44] Speaker 1: the buzz cut? Yeah, he must have taken my apron
[1:04:48] Speaker 1: and name tag. I leave my locker unlocked sometimes. She
[1:04:52] Speaker 1: leaned in. That's some bold crap She printed three screenshots
[1:04:57] Speaker 1: and handed them to me. You should show Mick. I nodded,
[1:05:02] Speaker 1: though my gut told me it wouldn't fix anything. Back
[1:05:05] Speaker 1: at Pete's, the kitchen smelled like fryer oil and burnt toast.
[1:05:09] Speaker 1: I walked through the back, holding the screenshots. People looked
[1:05:13] Speaker 1: at me, then looked away. Mick was on his phone
[1:05:16] Speaker 1: in the office. I didn't knock. Got a minute? I asked.
[1:05:21] Speaker 1: He looked up slowly. You're not supposed to be here.
[1:05:25] Speaker 1: I tossed the papers onto his desk. That's not me.
[1:05:29] Speaker 1: It's Travis. He barely glanced at them. Kid messed up.
[1:05:34] Speaker 1: He panicked. You? You got no priors. You were cleaner.
[1:05:39] Speaker 1: You used me, I said. He shrugged. This isn't personal.
[1:05:44] Speaker 1: He needed a break. I covered him. You'll be fine.
[1:05:48] Speaker 1: You lied. I lost my job. My name's on that report.
[1:05:52] Speaker 1: No one's gonna care. You think HR's gonna issue an apology?
[1:05:57] Speaker 1: My fists clenched, but I didn't say anything. There was
[1:06:01] Speaker 1: nothing I could do. Mick smirked. Don't make a scene.
[1:06:05] Speaker 1: I walked out. Everyone watched, but no one said a word.
[1:06:10] Speaker 1: I couldn't sleep for days. I kept replaying it in
[1:06:13] Speaker 1: my head. How fast people turn on you when you
[1:06:16] Speaker 1: don't serve their interests. Then, one afternoon, Janelle texted me.
[1:06:22] Speaker 1: We need part-time. You want in? I didn't think twice.
[1:06:26] Speaker 1: Working at Circle K wasn't ideal, but I showed up early,
[1:06:29] Speaker 1: stayed late, and didn't complain. I stocked shelves, cleaned spills,
[1:06:33] Speaker 1: learned the register. Janelle had my back. It wasn't much,
[1:06:38] Speaker 1: but it gave me something I'd lost. Control.

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