Speaker 1: It was early in the night and the beach had
Speaker 1: just closed. I was standing up by the staircase that
Speaker 1: led to the sand. The last car had just pulled
Speaker 1: away from the lot, a red van that looked like
Speaker 1: it was in its first time by the ocean. I
Speaker 1: rarely came here. Plus, I wasn't supposed to be there
Speaker 1: by myself that night, not because, as they say, girls
Speaker 1: aren't supposed to be out in the middle of nowhere
Speaker 1: by themselves, but because I thought someone was supposed to
Speaker 1: be with me, and I was never going to be
Speaker 1: alone again. And the sand called, and the ocean answered
Speaker 1: in a haunting harmony. When that battled over keeping things
Speaker 1: where they were, or letting the darkness take over, inviting
Speaker 1: me to float out there, to the place where the
Speaker 1: depth and the surface were the same color emptiness. That
Speaker 1: was a feeling. My eyes tried to figure out what
Speaker 1: was in front of them once the headlights disappeared behind me,
Speaker 1: And that's when the ocean even began to blend with
Speaker 1: the sky in one single infinite painting right across from me.
Speaker 1: It was then that I heard it, a voice coming
Speaker 1: from the darkness. Come back. It said, please don't leave me.
Speaker 1: My name is Edwin, and here is a scary story.
Speaker 1: It's a long story that I didn't want to bother
Speaker 1: anyone with that night, even when my friends called asking
Speaker 1: if I was okay and if I had seen the
Speaker 1: pictures on Instagram. He wasn't doing anything wrong, per se.
Speaker 1: It was just like him, but only I blamed him
Speaker 1: for half the outcome. Anyway, we see, we were sitting
Speaker 1: around the living room, each one of us on our
Speaker 1: own phones when I noticed that he was looking my
Speaker 1: way like he had something to say. I ignored it
Speaker 1: and kept scrolling, But then he suddenly put his phone
Speaker 1: down and told me that Abby had just texted him
Speaker 1: that her mom was in the hospital. I asked what
Speaker 1: was wrong and if she was going to be all right,
Speaker 1: but he ignored the question and instead started with one
Speaker 1: of his philosophical I want the best relationship for both
Speaker 1: of us speech, the same old stuff about how he
Speaker 1: wanted to be honest, how he valued transparency, and I
Speaker 1: tried not to roll my eyes as I looked in
Speaker 1: his direction waiting for him to continue. I knew what
Speaker 1: he was going to say, that he was going to
Speaker 1: go see Abby's mom, that they had been asking about
Speaker 1: him and all that that knot was twisting even tighter
Speaker 1: in my stomach. What I finally closed off the knot
Speaker 1: was when he spoke. He said that Abby had just
Speaker 1: asked him if he wanted to grab a coffee. Value
Speaker 1: your honesty, go have that coffee. I thought to myself,
Speaker 1: I didn't want to be that girlfriend. You know, my
Speaker 1: body felt a little cold when he said that. Some
Speaker 1: may call that intuition, that soft, nauseating feeling that tells
Speaker 1: you that something isn't right. But I nodded and turned
Speaker 1: my head back on my phone, even scrolled a little
Speaker 1: bit without looking at it. His eyes went back to
Speaker 1: his phone too. He got up after a little while
Speaker 1: and went to the room. He changed even put on
Speaker 1: the perfume that I gave him for his birthday, the
Speaker 1: bottle still full from how little he used it. Then
Speaker 1: he walked out of the room, a hint of excitement
Speaker 1: in his eyes as he said goodbye to me, saying
Speaker 1: that he was going to call. I should have yelled
Speaker 1: right then, demanded that he stay home, maybe even tell
Speaker 1: him that it bothered me and let him decide. And
Speaker 1: the moment kept spinning in my head like that, blending
Speaker 1: with the sounds of these growing waves. Did I encourage him?
Speaker 1: It was the beginning of the end, And just when
Speaker 1: I wanted to wash myself from everything, the van in
Speaker 1: the parking op all the way and heard the voice
Speaker 1: come back. I heard that looked in all directions. That
Speaker 1: parking lot had no lights except for the ones on
Speaker 1: a highway even higher up the hill. Please don't leave me,
Speaker 1: I heard it say again. Realizing I hadn't heard the
Speaker 1: full statement the first time, I turned around and saw
Speaker 1: a young woman around my age sitting somewhere in the
Speaker 1: middle of the stairs. She was thin, with dark hair,
Speaker 1: a dirty white T shirt and jean shorts that still
Speaker 1: seemed to glow in the same color of the crashing
Speaker 1: waves in that darkness, the van, I asked, looking back
Speaker 1: toward the road of the hill. I looked back and shrugged.
Speaker 1: There was no more car in sight. Now did they leave?
Speaker 1: She asked, standing up and wiping sand off herself. Coming
Speaker 1: a little bit closer, she finally reached the last step,
Speaker 1: just to the left of where I was standing. She
Speaker 1: hadn't look too concerned by this point, like I would
Speaker 1: be if my ride had just stranded me on a
Speaker 1: dark beach. She looked up the hill and saw the
Speaker 1: same thing. I did nothing. We stood there in silence
Speaker 1: for a few seconds. My mind wasn't ready to talk
Speaker 1: to a stranger, and I kind of wish she would
Speaker 1: walk out into the darkness and disappear like that Van
Speaker 1: had done. Then she said something that made me shiver,
Speaker 1: and it still does when I think of that night.
Speaker 1: Just leave him, she said. She found my eyes in
Speaker 1: the dark faster than I found hers. What I asked,
Speaker 1: how did you? That's why you would be out here
Speaker 1: by yourself at this hour? How did you even get here?
Speaker 1: The bus stop around the hill by the Starbucks On second?
Speaker 1: You walked here with the sunset? Didn't you some type
Speaker 1: of romantic scene walking along with the setting sun? You
Speaker 1: got here just as it was setting, right. I couldn't
Speaker 1: say anything, But then she continued, it was getting dark,
Speaker 1: too dark when you got here, and everyone was leaving.
Speaker 1: Not so romantic anymore, huh, kind of eerie. She locked
Speaker 1: eyes with mine when she said that. All I could
Speaker 1: do was stare the something about this girl that didn't
Speaker 1: quite feel right. She was by herself, completely comfortable there.
Speaker 1: I had I not been there, she would have been
Speaker 1: sitting in the middle of the stairs still at the moment,
Speaker 1: though I couldn't quite process everything. I needed my time alone,
Speaker 1: and now this girl had gotten in the way. So
Speaker 1: I know how you got here, but I don't know
Speaker 1: why you're here, she said. I don't know why you're
Speaker 1: here either, I said, bluntly, Tired of these guessing games.
Speaker 1: Like all the prior frustration I felt, just reached this
Speaker 1: tipping point where I could have slapped her right there
Speaker 1: and felt nothing. It wasn't exactly anger or hate toward anyone.
Speaker 1: I was just done. There was nothing to be done
Speaker 1: in the relationship. Now choices had been made. I walked away,
Speaker 1: and this girl, well, I didn't know her and didn't
Speaker 1: care how she ended up there or she was going
Speaker 1: to be able to leave on her own. So I
Speaker 1: simply stared out into the ocean for few seconds. Then
Speaker 1: I turned to look at her, dead in the eye.
Speaker 1: I killed someone today, I said, both to myself and
Speaker 1: to this girl. I didn't care for her reaction. I
Speaker 1: simply took a deep breath and kept looking out into
Speaker 1: the darkness. She said a few things, but I didn't
Speaker 1: hear her through the crashing waves at that moment. From
Speaker 1: what I could tell, she wasn't shocked. She smiled after
Speaker 1: the words came out of my mouth, until the shore
Speaker 1: finally went quiet. It wasn't calm. It was a kind
Speaker 1: of quiet that felt uneasy, like shutting off the radio
Speaker 1: mid song. The waves were moving, I could see them
Speaker 1: folding over themselves in the dim light, but no sound
Speaker 1: came out of them. That's better, the girl said. I
Speaker 1: turned to look at her, and then I noticed for
Speaker 1: the first time that her clothes weren't only dirty, but
Speaker 1: they were also wet. And the dirtiness I had seen,
Speaker 1: in part was from the slimy green stuff that sticks
Speaker 1: to your clothes, the kind that floats around in the
Speaker 1: ocean when you're there for a really long time and
Speaker 1: sticks to you, strands of it coming out of her
Speaker 1: hair and over her shoulders. So you said you killed someone,
Speaker 1: she continued, Her head was now tilting a little bit,
Speaker 1: studying me, like if she was trying to remember something
Speaker 1: or only waiting for me to say it. I took
Speaker 1: a step back. I didn't mean it. Yes, you did.
Speaker 1: You killed someone today, That's what you said. Her voice
Speaker 1: was still correcting me. Have a thought that I had
Speaker 1: already gotten out of my head and into the wind.
Speaker 1: The girl stayed quiet. I just told him to go,
Speaker 1: I said, trying to stop myself. I knew what he
Speaker 1: was doing, I knew what he meant. I just didn't
Speaker 1: stop him. She smiled, but not in the friendly way.
Speaker 1: It was as though she was relieved. Yeah, she said quietly,
Speaker 1: that's how it starts. I could feel a cold wind
Speaker 1: coming from the ocean. Now it was sudden and fast,
Speaker 1: sliding down my back. I hugged myself without realizing it.
Speaker 1: How it starts, I asked, and she kept looking at me.
Speaker 1: She then turned her head backed over the water. Do
Speaker 1: you know what happens when a guy does that, Like
Speaker 1: when he leaves you and gets all excited over some girl.
Speaker 1: They already decided what they want. You're the last one'll
Speaker 1: find out. He's just trying to justify everything. I didn't
Speaker 1: say anything back. Well, that's how it happens sometimes, she continued.
Speaker 1: Might not be your case. But you, on the other hand,
Speaker 1: you start to disappear, she said. Little by little, you
Speaker 1: say things that you don't mean. You let things happen
Speaker 1: that your friends will call you dumb for things that
Speaker 1: you'll regret taking from him. Next thing, you know, you'll
Speaker 1: stop feeling like yourself, making little worlds out of everything.
Speaker 1: She paused, her eyes getting smaller to over the darkness
Speaker 1: of the sky. And then one day I felt my
Speaker 1: chest tightening. Then you're not really there anymore, poof gone.
Speaker 1: But I'm still here, I said, not expecting to get
Speaker 1: so defensive. She looked at me, but her expression had
Speaker 1: it changed. It was more serious, but generally the same.
Speaker 1: Are you Are you still here? She asked? It was
Speaker 1: quiet again. I opened my mouth to say something, but
Speaker 1: suddenly up the hill I saw something, headlights, a car.
Speaker 1: It came down to the parking lot like it was
Speaker 1: trying to figure out where to turn from, and my
Speaker 1: heart jumped. That could be I started turning back to her,
Speaker 1: but she wasn't looking at the car. She was looking
Speaker 1: at me. You should go, she said. The way she
Speaker 1: said it, it sounded like a final thing, like a goodbye,
Speaker 1: and add a piece of advice. Well, I can't just
Speaker 1: leave you here, I said, glancing between her and the road,
Speaker 1: Surprised by how my lack of a single care in
Speaker 1: the world suddenly flipped. She let out a small breath.
Speaker 1: I thought that she was about to laugh. That's what
Speaker 1: makes us different. I want you to see this, she said,
Speaker 1: as she was stepping past me and down towards the stairs,
Speaker 1: toward the sand. Wait, I said, reaching out by stopping
Speaker 1: myself just before my hand touched her arm, and she
Speaker 1: just kept walking. Did they leave you, I asked, my
Speaker 1: voice echoing a little bit in that strange silence. But
Speaker 1: she kept walking. They always do, she said. Her feet
Speaker 1: had reached the sand, leaving footprints that were filled back
Speaker 1: in right away with the dark water. I watched her
Speaker 1: move closer to the shoreline, the hands of the ocean
Speaker 1: reaching out like a flat, endless surface. Hey, I called out,
Speaker 1: louder than before. You don't have to go in there,
Speaker 1: don't go that way, Just come back. Everything is gonna
Speaker 1: be fine. Just come back. But that's when she stopped.
Speaker 1: For a second, I thought that she might turn around
Speaker 1: and run back up, but instead she spoke just loud
Speaker 1: enough for me to hear I can't and everything paused.
Speaker 1: He didn't come back, she said. My stomach dropped. What
Speaker 1: do you mean, I asked, my voice about to fall apart.
Speaker 1: She slowly turned her head just enough for me to
Speaker 1: see the side of her face. You saw the van,
Speaker 1: she said, and then she stepped forward into the water.
Speaker 1: I rushed down a few steps, automatically, yelling at her
Speaker 1: to stop, but she didn't really act. The water reached
Speaker 1: her ankles, and then her knees, and then her waist.
Speaker 1: The water had gone silent again. There was no sound
Speaker 1: of the crashing waves, no splashing, just that same unnatural
Speaker 1: silence come back. I shouted, and the words hit me.
Speaker 1: Then the voice that was the one I heard before,
Speaker 1: same volume, everything, It was me, and she kept going.
Speaker 1: Her shoulders had disappeared, and then her neck, and just
Speaker 1: before her head went under, she looked back at me
Speaker 1: completely for the first time. Her face wasn't panicked, she
Speaker 1: wasn't scared. It was empty. My feeling I knew a
Speaker 1: little too well, that same feeling I had just experience
Speaker 1: before she showed up from those stairs, and then she
Speaker 1: was gone. The sound came back all at once, the
Speaker 1: waves crashing violently against the sand, louder than before, but
Speaker 1: they had been building up, just to explode all at once.
Speaker 1: I stumbled back a step, covering my ears. I stood there,
Speaker 1: staring at the spot where she had disappeared, waiting for something, anything,
Speaker 1: to give me a sign of her. But nothing did.
Speaker 1: After a while, I forced myself to turn around. There
Speaker 1: were no more headlights up the hill. The lot was empty.
Speaker 1: For the first time that night, I felt completely alone
Speaker 1: as I stood there at the edge of darkness. So
Speaker 1: I walked up the stairs slowly, each step heavier than
Speaker 1: the last, and then when I reached the top, I
Speaker 1: couldn't help but look at one more time. She was
Speaker 1: still there. The ocean had stretched out the same way
Speaker 1: and had done before. It was endless, dark and waiting
Speaker 1: for something. I don't know how long I stood there,
Speaker 1: but I do know one thing. When my phone finally rang,
Speaker 1: I almost didn't answer. It was his name on the
Speaker 1: screen and a picture that we took outside of the
Speaker 1: train station on our way to Mellows, where we had
Speaker 1: our first date. For a second I thought about letting
Speaker 1: it ring, just to see what would happen, just to
Speaker 1: see who I would turn into if I didn't pick up.
Speaker 1: But I answered the entire world in my mind out
Speaker 1: of a silly little outing with someone, and vanished. But still,
Speaker 1: when it's quiet enough, sometimes I still hear it. Not
Speaker 1: from the ocean anymore, from somewhere closer. Come back, it says,
Speaker 1: And I don't know if it's the darkness behind me,
Speaker 1: calling me again to that edge where people disappear. This
Speaker 1: story was written and produced by me Edwin Kowar Rubez.
Speaker 1: Now I want to hear your thoughts on the story
Speaker 1: or ideas for upcoming ones. All the information to reach
Speaker 1: out it's in the description of this episode. A huge
Speaker 1: shout out to our Scary Plus members. By the way,
Speaker 1: thank you for supporting the stories and the other shows
Speaker 1: that I have on here. I don't know how we
Speaker 1: do this without you, guys, so thank you. And if
Speaker 1: you're listening to the AD supported version and you still
Speaker 1: want to support, you can just leave a review like
Speaker 1: five stars. Make sure you follow on the thing after
Speaker 1: listening on whatever platform you're listening on, and that way
Speaker 1: lets the little app there whatever you're listening on, Apple Podcasts,
Speaker 1: Spotify and lets them know that, hey, I like the show,
Speaker 1: let's promote it or something and it helps us grow.
Speaker 1: You know. That's how you can help out the show
Speaker 1: if you like these stories. But anyway, I'll be back
Speaker 1: next week with another story, so make sure you follow
Speaker 1: the show. Thank you very much for listening. Keep it
Speaker 1: Scary everyone, See you soon.