The Taxi Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Daisy Edwards and her daughter Belle are returning home from the airport in a funny looking taxi. Daisy is still finding it hard to cope with Charles' behaviour...

Submitted: March 04, 2015

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Submitted: March 04, 2015

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~~The clouds turned a depressing grey, and a fat raindrop splashed on the ridge of my nose. “Oh Daisy, how you have your mother’s nose!” people would comment.
I searched desperately for shelter, with my daughter, “We’ll be home soon,” I said reassuringly.
“I wish Daddy could come,” Belle whined.
“I know honey,” I replied with gritted teeth, “but Daddy’s very busy,”
I hated how Charles barely knew his children, it felt like he was away 24/7 with his group. He and I had to make up soon, especially for the childrens’ sake. His smile appeared in my mind, it all replayed in my head again. I looked down at my beautiful Belle, and my eyes welled up with tears.
“Mummy, what’s wrong?” asked Belle. I stitched a smile on my torn up face, and ignored my own daughter. I seemed to be doing that a lot recently. Belle turned her face away from me, as usual.


“Taxi!” I called, when I saw one pulling up. It carried on moving and the vehicle parked right next to Belle and I. The black taxi had scratches on the doors and smudges, which I was pretty sure looked like handprints. The windows were tinted grey, but I could see the silhouettes of seats behind the misty tint.
I ushered Belle into the lone taxi first, away from the increasing crowds of people recognising me, the author of my newest novel, ‘When Marriage Goes Wrong’.
I jumped in after her, shielding my eyes and face from people.
The rain started to get heavier and the windows on the inside were all steamed up with heat from the engine. The taxi smelled like a laundrette, as though it had been freshly scrubbed ready for new passengers. The outside should have been scrubbed.
“62 Dove Street please” I snapped, wanting to get home quickly.
“Okay Madam,” a mumble came from the driver’s seat.
We set off slowly, weaving in and out of other vehicles. I leaned back feeling the warm embrace of the padded seat…


“Mummy, where are we going?” I was surprised by Belle’s concerned tone. My eyes suddenly concentrated on the situation, like a predator. Where were we? We were surrounded by darkness, and tall buildings, suffocating me. Tears trickled down Belle’s cheeks as she shifted in her seat. My hand reached down to hers squeezing it, telling her it would be okay. My other hand reluctantly tapped on the thin glass between the driver and us. “Excuse me,” I croaked politely, “I said 62 Dove street,” I wanted to be at home, with my children, my cat and my dog.
“Madam, you will be home soon” the driver said in a low voice. It sounded different this time.
His face turned to look at me and tearful Belle. His eyes were missing. There were just empty eye sockets covered by veiny skin. There were fresh scars where his eyes were meant to be. His non-existent eyes gazed deep into my own. The shape of his nose was too flat to be normal and he had large slits for nostrils. He reached out to touch my petrified hand. His lips were familiar. He had the same misshapen tooth. His fingers were shaped like tree trunks, without fingernails and his ice cold palm clutched mine. He stroked my cheek roughly with his ugly hand.
“Home time,” he told me menacingly. He swerved the taxi into the low lying ditch…


“There’s Grandpa’s house Mummy!” Belle pointed out of the window. I woke up in a daze of a headache. “Get out of the taxi Belle,” I screamed erratically, “Get out of the taxi now!” The taxi screeched to a halt outside my old family home. “What is it madam?” the driver didn’t move, “You need to pay,”
“Turn around!” I commanded.
“I don’t know wha…,” the driver said. As he turned he looked human.
“Take your mask off!” I lunged out at him, pulling at his mask. My sharp nails drew blood.
“Mummy,” Belle tried to grab my arm. Her face was ashen in the bright streetlight at the end of our drive.
“We’re home,” she said.
My gaze was fixed on the crisp crimson colour, staining my fingertips. My hands were hot with hatred.
“Run inside for help Belle,” I said, “Go and get Grandpa,”
I gulped back air, building up a loud scream at the back of my throat.
“What’s the matter mummy?” Belle’s eyes grew wide with fear and she let go of my sleeve.
“Belle, just do it,” I felt frustrated, I didn’t know what to do anymore.
“Mummy, you’re crazy,” she said turning her back on me, “We’re home now,”
His blood ran off my hands and dripped onto the pavement beside my feet. I could see my raging eyes reflected in the puddle. I could smell the strong scent of the past…
 


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