Nighttime Wanderers

Lonely Road Ahead

Trigger Warning: Suicide; Death

I AM DRIVING my black Cadillac on my way to the office. It was already midnight, but my boss suddenly called me for an emergency meeting. It's really urgent since he'll fly soon to Canada for a business summit. I need to go to the office immediately, or else I'll be fired in the blink of an eye. I'm taking my usual route, which takes a much longer time, so I keep glancing around for a shortcut. I remember seeing a "road closed" sign somewhere. As far as I know, it's an old road that used to be part of the main road but got closed due to some accidents. I see the other side of it, and it's a shortcut to somewhere near our office. If I calculated it right, taking that closed road would take just seven minutes to get to the office.

After several glimpses, I see it. I stop my car and get out because I need to open the wooden, rusted gate first. I stand firmly in front of the road. It's so dark; it seems like there are no lights in this area. There might be no houses inside. I look at my wristwatch, and it has exactly hit midnight.

After opening the gate, I enter the road. I don't bother to close it since I'm in a hurry and people probably won't notice. And if they do, they'll just think some juvenile opened it and closed it eventually. The road is pitch black. I can't see clearly what's ahead of me. The area is really eerie, with tall trees and wild grasses growing taller than me, adding to the creepiness. One thing I can at least thank this road for, besides saving me time and my job, is that it is concrete and has good asphalt. It feels like it's not abandoned at all, and someone is taking good care of it.

A few seconds later, I reach a sign stoutly standing beside the road. Something is written on it. 'It's A Lonely Road,' I read in my mind as my eyes take a glance at the sign above. What's that supposed to mean? Is that the name of this road before? Yes, it is really a lonely road. I mean, nothing's really here. Just me and my car trying to make an errand.

My mind is still on that sign, thinking about what the phrase implies, when suddenly, there's a child in front of me. I immediately hit the brake. Thank God, I hit the brake on time, or else I'd end up in jail tonight. I get out of my car and run towards the kid. "Hey, are you okay?" I ask, but he doesn't answer. He's just sitting there in the middle of the road, crying. "Hey, kid, who are you? Where's your parent? Why are you here?" I flood him with questions, but it seems like he can't hear me. So, I go near him and touch his shoulder. I kneel to the ground slowly and ask him one more time.

"Who are you?" He stops crying but is still sobbing. He slowly tilts his head to look at me. His eyes are bloodshot like he's been crying for hours. He looks like he's lost. I look closely at the child. He seems so familiar. It feels like I've met him before. "Help me, sir," the child says despite his sobs. "What happened?" I ask worriedly. What happened to this child? Did his parent beat him?

"My dad," he answers, "My dad is already gone." I can't understand what he's trying to say because of his continuous sobs. "My dad, sir, he's dead. I loved him," the kid then adds. Oh, poor kid. He lost his dad at a very young age. He looks like he's six or seven years old. I remember I also lost my father at a very young age. My dad and I loved fishing so much. He always saved his Saturdays for our fishing trips. I remember how I cried since the day he died because he couldn't be there for our fishing trips anymore. I understand you, kid, I do.

But I don't know how to react. Should I comfort him or bring him to the police station? Then I remember I have a meeting to attend. I look at my wristwatch and only have five minutes left. So, I choose the latter. "Kid, come with me. I'll take you to the police station. You seem lost. Your mother might be very worried," I say to him. He seems convinced, so I pick him up and put him in the back seat. I look at him in the rear-view mirror before steering the wheel. He's just staring out the window. He's lonely.