Keona Caraballo ’24 - My Drive Home

My Drive Home

by Keona Caraballo ’24

My vision was blurred and it was growing increasingly concerning. The road ahead of me was seemingly neverending; the lines on the road were being run over by my slate grey run-down car and were doubling with my faulty vision. The street lights were hundreds of yards apart while illuminating very little causing my urge to fall asleep to grow. At some point, it crossed my mind to pull over, take a small break, then continue on my way. Just as I was about to pull over I remembered my promise, “Don’t worry Ma, I’ll be there as fast as I can. I’ll leave right after you hang up with me. I promise I’ll be there,” I told my mom on the phone the day before. My father had fallen ill and my mom needed extra help around the house. I was currently living in Chicago for work and my family lived in Portland, Oregon. My mom needed my support and the airspace in the U.S. was closed because of multiple similar UFO sightings. Probably just the Soviets if you ask me. So I was currently making the thirty-hour drive back home to take care of my little siblings and my frantic mother. I popped some gum into my mouth and turned on my radio to avoid my eyes from closing on their own. The road jostled my car gently causing my legs to grow slightly numb. The solitude in my car that I faced and dealt with for a while now caused an out-of-body experience that was hard to explain so I darted my eyes from the road to each of my mirrors. It helped my brain stay somewhat alert. After doing this for a while I noticed that the street lights behind me weren’t there anymore. I shook my head and pulled over. That was the last straw, I needed to sleep! I couldn’t keep going if I was starting to hallucinate. I stepped out of my car and looked behind me to see the lights back on and to stretch before I hit the hay. I was startled to see the darkness once again. I looked up to search for the stars. I was relieved to find a plethora of shimmering, smiling stars but among them were massive, foggy eyes glaring down at me. The eyes belonged to an impossibly huge entity that was slouched over and watched me carefully and curiously. Its face was dark grey with no features other than its eyes. Its body was clothed in a sheet of black fabric that flowed slightly behind it with the wind. I ran to my car and slammed the gas vehemently and sped to the closest exit so I could find somewhere to use a phone and call someone for help. Surely somebody will believe me.

When I found an exit, I flew to the nearest building that was open at the hour (which happened to be an empty diner) and frantically begged for a phone but hesitated in grabbing the phone. Who would believe me? The waitress with wide and concerned eyes set down their phone and asked, “What’s the matter hon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

I sat down at the table in front of her and muttered, “I don’t know what I saw,” I continued to tell the bright-eyed waitress what I saw as I thought of who to call. Afterward, I grabbed the phone with my clammy and sweat-stricken hands still hesitating to call someone. The waitress herself ripped the phone from my hands and dialed the police herself.

Soon the police had swarmed the diner and after I retold my story once again, they shook their heads and sat me in their car. I begged the police