I’m a taxi driver. The things I’ve experienced at night on the road would probably send chills down anyone’s spines. Here’s my story.
I’m a cab driver here in the Philippines, particularly here in Quezon City. When I started out, I’ve heard stories about the infamous stretch of road that my peers, some very seasoned drivers, feared to even enter; Balete Drive. Being the naive and feisty person that I was, I didn’t think much of it. A road is a road, as I would say. Until my very first drive through the infamous road.
It was a Sunday, probably at around eleven in the evening. You’d be surprised to know that even at the late hours of the night, traffic is still prevalent in the city. I had this one passenger who was in a rush, asking me to take any type of shortcuts I could to get to where they wanted to go. So I did, and it just so happened that one of these said shortcuts was Balete Drive. At the time, I really didn’t know where I was going, focusing on getting my passenger to where they wanted to go. But as soon as we entered the aforementioned road, the atmosphere within my cab changed dramatically. A sudden frigid cold spread through my cab, and a sensation of being watched started tingling through my thoughts. I looked back at my passenger, and I could see that they too were experiencing this bone chilling feeling.
I tried to quickly regain my composure and focus on the destination, but then from the corner of my eye, I see something. A person. It wasn’t really just any person. From what I could’ve glimpsed, it seemed like a woman. Her back was crooked back into almost an exaggerated slouch, her hair looked wet and gangly and her skin was as pale as a corpse. Through the mangling of her hair, I thought I saw her eyes, bloodshot and wide open. As soon as I caught a glimpse, I knew that I had to get out of this road as fast as possible, so I floored it.
As we pulled out of the drive, I sat quietly, still trying to process what had just happened. After experiencing that, the frigid cold turned into a cold sweat. I really couldn’t do anything but drive, trying to get my mind off from what I just experienced. Out of nowhere my passenger just said
“D-did you see what I just saw?”
I froze. I looked at them through my mirror and they just gave me a look of terror. I thought I was the only one who saw the crooked woman. As we reached the passenger’s destination, I sat there in silence. The passenger was obviously shook up as well. They shakily reached into their wallet and handed me some cash. The passenger slowly left the car and closed the door in a gentle thud. As I pulled away I saw how much the experience shook up the passenger. As soon as my cab passed them, they booked it into the building nearby, very apparently terrified.
After that experience, I avoided Balete Drive as much as possible. But that experience isn’t the most terrifying experience I’ve had with the said road. My second trip there would traumatize me for the rest of my life.
As aforementioned, I did try to avoid Balete Drive as much as I could. But this one occasion, my passenger, an amateur journalist, insisted we took the road that night. So as hesitant as I was, I complied. They paid me good money after all. So as we entered the drive, I tried to speed through the road to get it over quick, but my passenger wanted me to take a slower pace. Bad fucking idea. Just like the previous encounter, the entire cab was engulfed by a frigid coldness. I could hear my passenger breathing heavily and through my mirror, I could see how tense and uneasy they were, looking around and fumbling with their stuff. I tightly gripped my steering wheel, trying to keep my composure.
Then, there she was. The crooked woman. It was so much harder to not look knowing we were going just about 15 km/h. As we slowly passed her, her appearance become more visceral. Now I could see lashes on her skin, tears on her white muddy dress. I don’t know if it was just me or her gaze was following us. Then as we pulled away from her, my passenger said something that just terrified me:
“Hey uh, is she….following us??”
That’s when I looked at my rear view mirror. And I saw the woman, running after our vehicle. Her shrill screams echoing through my ears. I sped up hoping that we will outrun whatever that is. Then out of nowhere, I felt a thud, and the car shook along with it. I again looked at my rear view mirror. There she was. At the trunk of my car, hanging from the rear roof, looking at us through the back window. She then proceeded to hit the glass of my rear window, gradually hitting it stronger and stronger.
She screamed at us, opening her cracked lips and showing her elongated tongue, her growls getting louder and louder as we sped. Her bloodshot eyes stared intently at me, her mangled hair, flowing in the wind as I floored it.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it could break through my damn chest. I looked at my dash; 100 km/h. I’m literally speeding past this road, but it didn’t seem to end. Suddenly I heard movement on the outside of my cab. The woman was now making her way to the front of my car. Her fingernails loudly scratched the roof of my car. Then suddenly her hand made its way to my side of the car, scratching and clawing at the mirror. Her shrill screams boring themselves to my ears, my eardrums almost shattering with every loud scream and growl.
This felt like it went on forever. And then silence. After a long moment of quietness, I looked around. We were past Balete Drive. I looked behind me, and saw the terrified face of my passenger.
Shaken up, I stopped the car. I had to breathe. I didn’t know where the woman went, or where she even came from. I could hear my passenger sob, a reaction to the horrifying ordeal we just went through. Understandably, both of us were breathing very heavily. My passenger looked at me with a face of confusion and horror. I checked around my cab, and there were very obvious scratches and dents all over it. I then went back inside and dropped the passenger off on their destination.
Needless to day, from that day on, I avoided Balete Drive completely. Even if the passenger insisted and would even offer extra pay, I declined. I don’t know why the crooked woman attacked us that night, or why she is there, but I don’t really plan on finding out any time soon.