This is a story that happens in my hometown. It happened to my uncle, who works as a cab driver. One day, he went out to do a night shift, since in weekends and paydays the clubs are more crowded than ever. It was a cold rainy night. My uncle saw a girl standing on a corner. She stopped the cab and handed the driver a card with an address that was across the town. My uncle drove her, but he sensed a cold atmosphere during the trip; the girl had a look of pain and despair. She paid the cab and went inside her house. My uncle went home. He had to wake up early the next morning to buy stuff with my aunt.
When they got inside the cab the next morning, they saw a scarf sitting in the back seat. My uncle told my aunt that maybe it belonged to the girl from the previous night, so he went to her place to give it back. When he knocked the door, an old woman came out. My uncle asked for the girl that lived there. The woman, confused, answered that there was no girl living there, and asked him to describe her. He did as she asked and with every word, the woman seemed more and more confused and scared. He invited my uncle inside. The first thing he saw was the picture of the girl from the night before.
-I’m sorry ma’am, I’m talking about her, and look, that’s the same scarf I’ve come to give back.
The woman answered:
-That’s my daughter. She’s been dead for exactly three years yesterday.