The Looky Loos
By Jeffrey Bishop
Tell Time: 3 minutes
Scare Rating: 4/5 Ghosts
Becca was getting annoyed. Traffic was heavy on the eastbound road, and all she wanted was to be home and done with her day.
She’d fought hard with insufferable people already that day. Also tired of fighting the rat race in the fast lane, she settled into the right-hand lane and snapped on the radio, hoping that drive-time music would settle her nerves.
“In local news, police are again at a loss in the Head-Hunting Bandit serial murder mystery,” the newscaster reported. “A fifth victim was found today at Metro Savings and Loan. The victim was decapitated, and just like the other four unsolved cases, the Bandit took today’s victim’s head. The whereabouts of the murderer, and the victims’ heads, are not yet known.”
Unable to bear hearing that news, Becca snapped off the radio and gave a shudder. She returned her attention to the road from the radio, and just in time, as the car next to her swerved in its lane, almost hitting Becca’s front fender before speeding off and away. Becca could see a young girl in the back seat, her face plastered against the glass, staring back at Becca’s car.
“Freak!” Becca yelled at the girl, even though she knew they couldn’t hear her. “What are you looking at? Tell you mom to watch where she’s driving!”
Becca was mildly embarrassed at her outburst, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Another car had pulled alongside her, and its driver, a middle-aged man in a business suit, stared at her with his mouth agape, clearly in shock.
“What is wrong with people?” Becca asked aloud. This time it was she who stepped on the gas. As she pulled ahead, she saw in her rear view mirror the man switch lanes and hastily exit the highway.
“Good riddance!” she muttered. Becca really needed to get home. With a heavy sigh, she realized she was at her exit, and left the highway and she hoped, all of the city’s voyeuristic drivers behind as well.
At last she was in her modest suburban subdivision. She carefully wound her car down the curved streets, and smiled to see kids at play in the street-facing yards. She was already feeling better. That is, until she noticed that the kids — all of them that she passed — stopped playing and stared as her car went by.
“What is wrong with all the crazy looky-loos in this town?” Becca said aloud. She sped through the neighborhood and to her modest home. She pulled into the garage and shut the door on the outside world.
“Safe at last!” she said.
Becca leaned over to the passenger seat and zipped open the vinyl Metro Savings and Loan bank deposit bag. From the floorboards, she pulled up a black trash bag, heavy with the head of her former co-worker.
With her thumb, Becca pried the eyeballs out of the skull and dropped them alongside eight others rolling around in the bank bag.
Satisfied with her expanded collection, Becca tossed the head into the back window of her car and went into the seclusion of her home, where no one could stare at her any more that day.