I Saw a Little Girl in the Back Seat

I was walking home alone around 1:30 a.m.

The streets were almost completely empty. Most of the shops were closed, and the only sound I could hear was the occasional buzzing of a streetlight.

I was about halfway home when a black car suddenly stopped beside me.

I looked toward it.

There were two men sitting in the front.

Then I noticed someone in the back seat.

A little girl.

At first, I thought she was sleeping.

Then she looked directly at me.

Her hands were tied together with rope, and a piece of cloth was covering her mouth.

My heart dropped.

She moved closer to the window and tried to say something through the cloth.

I couldn't hear her.

Then she shook her head and whispered,

“Please help me.”

I stepped toward the car.

One of the men in the front suddenly turned around and looked directly at me.

He didn't say anything.

He just stared.

I looked back at the girl.

She was shaking her head violently.

I took another step toward the car.

The man opened his door.

That's when fear took over.

I turned around and ran.

I didn't look back.

I could hear the car starting behind me, but I kept running until I reached a busy road.

There were people nearby, so I stopped and looked behind me.

The black car was gone.

I called the police and told them everything I had seen.

They searched the area but couldn't find the car.

The next morning, I went back to the street with an officer.

There were no cameras on that part of the road.

No witnesses.

Nothing.

The officer asked me if I was absolutely sure about what I had seen.

I told him I was.

Especially the girl.

He looked at me strangely.

Then he asked,

“Did she have a small scar above her left eyebrow?”

I froze.

“Yes.”

The officer became silent.

He showed me a photograph on his phone.

It was the picture of a little girl.

The same girl.

She had disappeared from that neighborhood four years earlier.

I couldn't sleep that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face pressed against the car window.

Three nights later, I was lying in bed when I heard three soft knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I sat up.

The sound had come from my bedroom window.

I live on the second floor.

There was no balcony outside.

I slowly walked toward the window.

Another three knocks.

I pulled the curtain back.

Nobody was there.

But something was sitting on the outside window ledge.

A small piece of red cloth.

The same color as the cloth covering the girl's mouth.

I stepped away from the window.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

There was a single photograph attached.

I opened it.

My blood went cold.

It was a photograph of me standing beside the black car that night.

But I had never seen anyone taking a picture.

I zoomed in.

The photograph had been taken from across the street.

And behind me…

standing in the darkness…

was the little girl.

Her hands weren't tied anymore.

She was smiling.

Then another message appeared.

“You should have helped me.”

I dropped my phone.

A few seconds later…

there were three more knocks on my window.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.