What If

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I woke up one morning, fully prepared for the day ahead, but what happened when my taxi driver decided to take the wrong turn?

Submitted: May 31, 2017

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Submitted: May 31, 2017

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‘What if I don’t have enough money? What if it starts raining, what if-?’

When I woke up, these were the thoughts that ran through my head.

 As I was rushing around my house at 8 am, desperately trying to get myself in order, I was trying to plan for any inconvenience that would come my way. ‘Bring cash and your card, bring a jacket with a hood, sorted’.

Not once did I ever think about the actual journey, or how inconvenient it could be.

Or in my case, would be.

I called up a local taxi station at around 9 am fidgeted as I waited for that familiar ping of my phone to tell me my driver had arrived. I finally heard it about 5 minutes later, and I ran down the stairs to see a stark white cab awaiting me.

I jumped in the front seat, and as I buckled in my seat belt I told him, “I just need to make a few short stops”. He gave a curt nod and punched in the details I gave him into his GPS. I can’t recall too much about him, appearance wise, but I remember that his hands were too big for his GPS, and the scent of his cheap cologne wafting through the air.

I rested my elbow against the door, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see glimpses of council houses flashing past the window, and quickly texted my friend to tell her I was nearly there. We then parked outside a street opposite of her flat and waited.

The driver then began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, shifting his eyes away from the window to his phone.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He looked over at me then, and mumbled, “So…are there many more stops to go?”

 “Uhm…yeah, one more, is that a…problem?”

Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

A sigh, and then “I don’t think I can do this right now, so I’m gonna drop you off to some of my friends.”

In an instant, my stomach dropped, and my throat tightened. The only thing I could think of saying was “w..what?”

. He did a quick U-turn, and as we got further away from the flat, the more my hope disintegrated.

He was mumbling something, but I couldn’t hear it due to my thoughts whirring in my head simultaneously “what if he’s kidnapping me? What if he’s a serial killer? What if- “ 

No. I wasn’t going to panic. This was just one more inconvenience that I would sort out. I tried to ignore my heart thumping against my chest, and as he slowed down a bit, and an idea came to my mind. “What if I jumped out of the car?” I internally nodded and took a deep breath, fully prepared to unbuckle my seat belt and tuck and roll, until –

“Ok, I have somewhere I need to be, but I’m just gonna drop you off here and tell them to send another taxi.” With that, he hopped out and walked up to a reception area, leaving me sitting in part relief and disbelief, feeling like a complete idiot, and the only thought that sprung to my head was:

“Maybe I should stop with the ‘what ifs’.”


© Copyright 2017 SameenaQ. All rights reserved.

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