The Rest Stop

There was only one rule: don't open the door.

It was unorthodoxed, the detour from the highway, landed me at a rest stop. It was dark, except for the door leading into the main building, and it had a light on and what appeared to be statues on the window sills.

I was driving down interstate one as I had done many times before, and I saw the signs for the Smyrna rest stop on the highway. But then about a mile down the road, I saw the highway lights were dim to almost pitch dark with a lighted sign that said detour.

I followed the detour signs and began to go up the access road to the rest stop. It was unusually dark for a rest stop, with no lighting in the parking lot and you could only see the door, to the building, that had a sign on it, about the only rule.

My heart began to pound and I wanted to get in my vehicle and run, but there were no lights to help me find the road.

I began to walk up to the forbidden door, and I saw a shadow in the doorway, just a shadow, not a form. I ran to my vehicle, and my heart started pounding again, for I couldn't believe my eyes.

There was a skeletal form of a being sitting in the passengers seat, and through his skeletal form, he was smililng at me. I thought that smile was familiar, but it was way to out of the ordinary for me.

I looked back at the building that had the forbidden door, and saw it closing, and then I looked back in my vehicle and saw that familiar smile was that of my murdered son nine years ago.