The Last Bus Ride

The Routine

Every evening at exactly 9:15, Emily boarded the Number 42 bus. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was consistent. After a long day at the hospital where she worked as a night-shift nurse, the familiar rattle of the bus was her final step before home. The ride took twenty minutes, never more, and she always sat in the same seat: second row from the back, right-hand side.

That night in October, everything felt the same. The air was cool, the bus driver nodded in recognition, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Emily slipped her headphones in and closed her eyes, letting the city blur into white noise.

The Stranger

But then something was different.

When the bus stopped at Eastwood and Pine, a man climbed aboard. He was tall, wearing a dark gray coat, and carried nothing with him. His face seemed ordinary -- too ordinary, in fact -- like one you’d forget as soon as you looked away. Yet when his eyes met Emily’s, she shivered.

The man didn’t go to the front or middle seats like most. Instead, he walked deliberately down the aisle and sat across from her. He didn’t take out a phone or look out the window. He just sat there, watching.

The Silence

At first, Emily told herself she was being paranoid. Buses are public spaces. People sit where they want. She kept her gaze fixed on her phone screen, pretending to scroll.

But as the minutes passed, her anxiety grew. Every time she glanced up, the man’s eyes were still locked on her. He didn’t blink much. He didn’t fidget. He just sat in total silence.

When the bus stopped to let others off, Emily hoped he would leave too. But he stayed. Now, only three passengers remained: the driver, an old woman asleep near the front, and the man in the gray coat.

The Decision

Emily’s stop was coming up. Normally, she’d press the buzzer, thank the driver, and step off. But with the stranger’s unyielding gaze, she froze. What if he followed her? What if he was waiting for exactly that moment?

Her heart raced. She decided to ride past her usual stop, to a busier street where more people would be around. She pressed the buzzer later than usual. The bus hissed to a halt.

To her relief, the man didn’t move. She quickly stepped off, blending into the crowd of late-night pedestrians.

The Twist

The next morning, Emily woke to the news. A passenger on the Number 42 bus -- a woman in her sixties -- had been reported missing. She had been seen asleep on the bus but never arrived home.

Police released a statement asking for witnesses. Emily thought of the man in the gray coat. She remembered his piercing stare. She remembered how he hadn’t gotten off at her stop.

And then, something else came back to her: when she stepped off the bus, she’d glanced at the window reflexively. The man wasn’t there anymore.

But she hadn’t seen him get off.

Why Stories Like This Stay With Us

Urban legends often grow from tiny seeds of reality. A late bus ride, a stranger, an ordinary evening -- all of these can turn into mysteries that stick in our minds long after they’re told.

Emily never rode the Number 42 again. And to this day, the case of the missing woman remains unsolved.