Once upon a time on a Road

“Not everything that happens in our life can be explained by common sense, knowledge, or for that matter, known science,” Ron reflected, quite engrossed in his thoughts, as Ana looked on. It had been long since they last sat together talking about the past. Ron always had many stories to tell, and while he insisted they were all his own experiences, Ana believed most of them were either borrowed from others’ lives or simply made up.

“Today, I will tell you about an experience I had almost 15 years back—but don’t ask me to explain it, because I have none,” he said, and began to narrate a journey he and his friends had taken to Dubai.

That night, Ron, accompanied by three friends, was heading towards the Dubai border. It was a long weekend, and they were visiting Dubai for the very first time. Quite naturally, they decided to drive through the night so they could make the most of their time there. The highway was long and straight, and the real challenge was not speed, but staying awake. The car was a rental, and they took turns driving, with one rule—the person in the front passenger seat had to stay awake and keep the driver company.

Somewhere along the drive, the conversation drifted to the usual stories one hears on highways—strange sightings, unexplained incidents, things that are difficult to believe, yet hard to dismiss. Everyone had their own take on such stories, and while no one claimed to believe them fully, no one dismissed them entirely either.

It was in the middle of such a conversation that it happened.

A sharp, shrill whistling sound cut through the air outside the car. It was loud enough to startle everyone inside. Ron, who was at the wheel, instinctively pressed the brakes and covered his ears. As the speed dropped, the sound disappeared.

They looked at each other, unsure of what had just happened.

Ron accelerated again. The moment the car picked up speed, the sound returned—just as sharp, just as unsettling.

After a while, they slowed down again. This time, there was only silence.

They drove on, unsure whether it was something mechanical or something else. After a few minutes, they tried again—accelerating deliberately—but the sound did not return. Gradually, the incident slipped into the background, and they went on to have a great time in Dubai.

On their way back, however, they experienced the same thing again. The same stretch of road. The same sound.

This time, they did not stop to investigate.

They drove past it in silence.

When Ron returned home, he was shaken to learn that one of his colleagues had lost control of his car and died on that very stretch of road—the same place where they had heard the whistle.

Ana and Ron sat in silence for a moment, both instinctively rubbing their arms, as if to shake off the sudden chill that had crept in.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.