The Smiler

the cab ride

6:30 am, christopher street, new york city

'i stumbled through a puddle, hoping the nightmare was over. he climbed through my bedroom window. he tried to strangle me! i died that day.' i read,  when i was stuck in the backseat of the damp cab. the rain dropped on the window, catching my attention every time. the rumbling of thunder in the sky was like a bear, stopping on the clouds. crushing it. i whimpered at the thought of the man crawling toward and the child screaming. 'no parents came.' the article said. it was 1978 when this was published. 'nobody knew what the thing was that killed the child. it was not seen after the murder.' it filtered over me. i saw now that the 'thing' that killed the child was the same thing that saw me last night. i trembled.

"you okay back there?" the driver asked, barely looking back at me.

"ya, yes." i stuttered, my hand was close to dropping my phone. a truck drove by us, raging on. i couldn't help but notice that the highway was almost empty. the cab driver kept driving, almost racing with the truck. but, i tried not to tell. instead, i looked at the buildings outside. they were tall, and broad. just like the sidewalks. the driver turned and went down a street i was unfamiliar with. the name of it was written over with graffiti that renamed it: 'death smile'. i took a deep breath and calmly asked the driver: " where are we?" he didn't look back. or say anything. i tapped him and asked the same question. he nodded and whispered:

"its all gonna be okay...." i shuttered when he spoke. "okay... okay... everything is going to be okay....okay...okay...okay...okay..." he started to get louder and I covered my ears and closed my eyes. "smile lane, smile lane, smile lane," he started to softly sing while driving slow. i screamed and pushed my way out of the moving car. the rain trampled me while i ran through the empty street. i turned back to see the cab. the cab was broken, like it was in a car crash. i was confused. i had just got out. and i hadn't heard anything. i looked forward, and saw a building, it was like it had bathed in graffiti. i ignored it, and ran into the sketchy building. inside, it was destroyed. there was a pile of cement tiles which looked like it made a hole in the ceiling. there was dried blood that had stopped mid way while streaming from the bottom of the cement pile. above the pile, on the wall, it said in black graffiti: 'they all went to hell'. i ran out of the building to face the smell of smoke. my eyes widened. he was here. 

"smell the smoke!" i heard, echoing through the broken city. i ran through the rain, to the broken cab. i smashed the window with my elbow, do to the lack of materials around me. the smell of smoke filled the cab. it was like fog. so thick. too black. i coughed, but tried to see my way to the wheel. i put my hands on it, but then picked them up and looked at them. black graffiti. i stared at the wheel, which had a smiley face on it. i grabbed by phone from the backseat and pressed record on a video. i looked at the camera. "at least people will know how i died." i said to it, smiling.