Never Stop at the Gas Station at Night

Growing up as a girl, I’ve always been told to be cautious. It didn’t matter if I was going to the mall or leaving from work - I’ve always kept my eyes peeled for anyone acting strange or out of the ordinary. Although nothing had happened to me while doing these everyday tasks, the scary idea of getting kidnapped or worse has always been at the back of my mind. Since I was around 16, I’ve carried at the very least a pocket knife and mace with me wherever I go, just to be on the safe side.

My mom was the one that instilled this paranoia in me. I’m not saying I didn’t appreciate it - I’m sure it’s saved me a couple of times without me realizing it, but I can’t go anywhere now without seeing a potential predator. It’s not just men either. I think this way about both men and women, thanks to the internet. Seeing scary videos and stories about couples trying to bait teenage girls to their cars and homes has just pushed this paranoia further and further. In a strange way, I’m glad it did.

Getting gas at night was something I did often, which went against basically everything I was taught, but sometimes I forgot to get it earlier in the day and I just didn’t have any other choice. Last night was one of those nights.

I remember the price - $3.96 a gallon, and $3.93 after my rewards. I was close to an empty tank and I had the money to fill it up, so I just decided to go until it was full. For some reason, the pump was going pretty slow, but I wasn’t in too much of a rush. I just sat against the side of the truck, watching the price on the screen climb higher and higher.

There was a slight breeze and the air was cold, but not cold enough that a hoodie wouldn’t keep me warm. I unlocked the truck and grabbed my hoodie from the backseat, making sure that I didn’t fully turn my back towards the empty parking lot. Once I closed the door, I could barely see a glimpse of my reflection in the back window. It wasn’t only me in the reflection though.

With my pocket knife in my hand, I turned back toward the pump. Not too far away, maybe about six feet, was a man. He looked normal, but also a little… beat up, you could say. Not by a person, but by the elements. His clothes were torn and soiled, and his hair sat on his head, matted and coated white with dandruff. Other than that, he seemed like any other guy, just too close to a teenage girl for comfort.

“Can I help you?” I asked, keeping a straight face. I didn’t want to smile, to look too friendly.

“Got any cash?” He gave me a slight smile, just enough to show his dark and rotting teeth. I tried not to react. Just because I didn’t want to look friendly doesn’t mean I wanted to seem rude either.

“No I don’t. I’m using the last of what I have to fill up.” I had some spare bills in my truck, but to be honest, I’ve never given any money to homeless people. Sounds harsh, I’m sure, but it’s better to keep your distance. You never know how they might react depending on what you give them. Plus, I didn’t want to turn my back on this guy to get anything out of the car.

“Hm, I see. Sorry to bother you then.” I figured after that, he would walk away. Maybe he’d try and find a busier area with more people to get money from. But he didn’t move, didn’t even blink. He just stood there, staring at me. I just stared back.

We probably held eye contact for a good ten seconds before he decided to turn around and make his way back to wherever he came from. He had a slight limp from his left leg, and I could see the soles of his shoes rubbing off. I started to wonder if I should’ve just given him the change.

The pump finally finished, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, and I put it back in its holding spot. At this moment, I felt uneasy and kind of tense. He didn’t seem dangerous, but the fact that I couldn’t see where the man wandered off made me uncomfortable. In fact, I really couldn’t see anything. The two streetlights and a few flashing bulbs near the front of the gas station didn’t provide me with much to go off of, and noticing this just made me more freaked out. I had a feeling I needed to get into the car, and fast.

I hopped in the front seat, locked the car doors, and checked the back to make sure there was no one back there. Empty, thank God. I turned around to face the windshield and literally almost pissed myself.

The man was back, but he wasn’t alone. Next to him, not even two feet away from the front of my truck, was a woman. She was small, maybe malnourished and underfed, and had the scariest smile on her face I’d ever seen. Her teeth were worse than the mans, even though there weren’t many in her mouth to see. I assumed that they were not only homeless, but on some type of drugs as well. It would explain not only the freaky behavior I was witnessing, but their appearance as well.

I could barely grasp my key in my hands from shaking, but I managed to start the truck. I turned on the headlights and honked at the pair. Nothing. They didn’t move. They didn’t try to talk. They just had the same smiles on their faces - menacing and sinister. My chest started to hurt. I knew I wasn’t having a heart attack, but God it felt like I could.

As I moved the gear shift to reverse, I saw the woman hold something up from my peripheral. I was almost too scared to look, and honestly, I wish I never did.

The nose on the girl’s head she was holding was missing. It didn’t look like natural decomposition - not even close. Ripped skin surrounded what I assumed was broken cartilage, and I could tell that her nose was bitten off. Her eye sockets were hollow, and God only knows what they did with her eyeballs.

Frozen in fear, all I could do was watch as she ripped the teeth from the girl’s lifeless head, placing them one by one in her own mouth. I saw the blood starting to ooze from her gums as she forced them into the sockets. The man just stood and watched her, his gaze not departing from her. At this point, I was ready to throw up, but I also couldn’t look away. I knew I needed to get help.

I grabbed my phone without looking away from the couple, and called the police, reversing my truck and driving off on the road in the process. By the time they asked me what the emergency was, I was in hysterics, snot and tears dripping from my face. I doubt they could understand much of what I was saying, but they at least got the location and that’s all that mattered.

I’m not really sure what happened after that. I didn’t really provide any identifiable information about myself, just what I could explain to the dispatcher about what I saw. What I wish I didn’t see. I’ve had a nightmare about it every night since then - I’ve had my own teeth ripped out, saw the woman staring at me through my window with a bloody smile, and thought I was waking up to the man in my room, watching me sleep.

I don’t know if this is something I’ll ever get over. If only I could forget it, but I know one thing for certain now - I’ll only be getting gas when the sun is up, never during the night again. I don’t want my eyeless, toothless head to be the next one found all because I wanted to fuel up late at night. I caution you all to do the same as me, and avoid it. At the very least, carry something to protect yourself, maybe something stronger than mace or a pocket knife. Who knows what good that would’ve done for me had I needed it. Most importantly though, keep your head on a swivel, because if you don’t, I guess you never know where your head will end up next.