Popular Urban Legends Rewritten So the Women Behave Realistically
Following your gut is bad for story plots but great if you want to live
The Hook
A boy and girl were making out in the back seat of a parked car. His hand was going for the hem of her skirt when she heard a sound from outside.
She shot up, alarmed. “What was that?”
Trying to get her back in the mood, the boy rubbed her shoulders. “Relax.”
She wasn’t distracted. “I heard a scratching sound. I want to leave.”
“Aww baby, you’re just nervous…”
“Excuse me, baby, but I’m not nervous. We turned off the radio because the news was all about an escaped maniac from a nearby asylum, and YOU thought it ruined the romantic atmosphere. Speaking of which, you don’t get to tell me when I’m in the mood. We’re leaving.”
“Fine.” The boy put his keys in the ignition and angrily drove off. The killer in the bushes cursed. He’d been looking forward to gutting some teenagers. However, he was happy that the girl stood up for herself.
The Babysitter
Shelly sat on the couch with her legs curled under her sweater while reading a magazine when the phone rang. Thinking it was the parents calling to check in on the kids, she answered without concern.
“Hello!”
“Have you checked on the children?”
“Yeah, about an hour ago. Is this Doug? You sound weird.”
“Maybe you should check on them again.”
“Ok, Doug!”
After hanging up, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911.
“Hello, I’m alone babysitting two small children at 918 Oak Drive. I think someone is going to harm me and the kids.”
“Are you sure you’re not just being hysterical?”
“Look, my intuition says a creepy man is upstairs waiting. It might be their dad, Doug, but he is creepy, so I’m not wrong on that count. Please don’t belittle the situation or wait until we trace the call and find out that he is upstairs. By that time, me and these kids will probably be dead. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean you get to assume I’m being hysterical. Send someone now.”
The police arrived and managed to subdue the man upstairs, who tried to flee from the bathroom where he’d been hiding, waiting to jump the babysitter as she entered the sleeping children’s room.
Killer in the backseat
The killer crouched low in the backseat, his knife ready. He’d seen the beautiful young woman leave her car without adequately locking the door before entering the mall almost an hour ago. It would be just a matter of time before he got his prey.
Beep beep!
He smiled as the doors unlocked. After they were further down the road and the twilight morphed entirely into darkness, he would —
He didn’t have time to finish the thought. Both passenger doors opened, and he found himself staring at the gun of a police officer.
“Drop your weapon. Hands in the air!”
In the back of the police vehicle, he asked the officers, “What happened to the woman?”
“She’s getting a ride home from a friend. She checked her back seat before leaving the parking lot since she was alone. Come on! It’s 2023. Who doesn’t listen to true crime podcasts?”
The Vanishing Hitchhiker
A man knocks on the door. He holds a red sweater belonging to the lovely girl he dropped off at this address last night. She hadn’t talked much, so he didn’t press her for a phone number. Now, with the sweater, he saw the perfect opportunity to get to know her. Plus, he knew where she lived.
The door opened. A woman in her fifties answered. “Yes?” “Hi! I picked up a girl from Juniper Street last evening and dropped her off here. She forgot this sweater. I was hoping I could give it back.”
The woman took the sweater in her hands. Then she looked at him in horror.
“This belonged to my daughter. She died last year on that very road.”
The man, struck dumb by terror, ran away, unable to believe he’d encountered a ghost. The woman shut the door.
“Is he gone?” The brunette who’d been hiding in the other room stared at her mom with trepidation.
“Yes. Thank you for letting me know the situation. Here’s your sweater, by the way.”
Sighing, the girl slid it on.
“Thank goodness. I usually don’t have a problem with Ubers, but that guy was creepy. I thought he might try something like this when I wouldn’t engage with his flirty talk. Thanks, Mom.”
