If there was one thing Terrance Tolliver of 1240 Montague Lane Court hated, it was waking up in the morning. From the blaring of his alarm to wishing he could’ve had just five more minutes of sleep, the mere thought of it all sometimes gave him indigestion, especially when he considered having to get ready for the long working day ahead. Mr. Tolliver was a business consultant at one of the largest software companies in Atlanta called Ocsic. He was a short, stocky man, with a neatly trimmed beard and forehead that took up nearly two-thirds of his face.

Mr. Tolliver also had a fiancé named Tanesha Stephens. She was even shorter than he was, though she was wafer-thin, had a mole on the left side of her cheek, and on most days sported a cropped hairstyle that gave her the appearance of a mushroom. Miss Stephens worked as a math tutor and was without a doubt one of the grumpiest people you could ever cross paths with. Mr. Tolliver sometimes called her “snapper” because whenever she came to his house she spent so much of her energy yelling at the neighborhood children for various offenses. Things like playing outside or laughing too loud were likely to earn you a telling-off.

“You all should be studying!” could constantly be heard coming from Mr. Tolliver’s kitchen window whenever Miss Stephens was around. Needless to say, she was not the life of the party—though this suited Mr. Tolliver just fine because Miss Stephens wasn’t even the person whom he enjoyed spending most of his time with anyway. That honor and distinction belonged to his only sibling, Tamia, who as far as Mr. Tolliver was concerned was the most exceptional little sister to have ever graced the face of the Earth. Though this might have sounded ridiculous to other people, the two siblings had such a tight bond that Mr. Tolliver used to always joke that if he had his way he would've personally seen to it that Tamia’s photograph was inside every dictionary under the word “perfection.”

Or at least that's the way things had been up until about a year ago.

You see, it was during this period that Tamia had married a man named Jistun Ade, and since become very distant from her once beloved brother. It’d gotten so bad in fact, the two siblings hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. Mr. Tolliver, who hated Jistun from the moment he laid eyes on him (what kind of stupid name was Jistun anyway?) blamed his sister’s “sorry-excuse-of-a-husband” for the change in her attitude. That being said, he’d still agreed to become godfather, when three months earlier the Ade’s had given birth to their first child, a baby boy. But even this hadn’t been enough to make him change his mind about Jistun. As far as he was concerned, Tamia could’ve done much better than marrying a fool like that.

And so, after staying up half the night scrolling through old pictures of him and Tamia on his phone, Mr. Tolliver woke on the Wednesday morning our story starts and dragged himself to the bathroom mirror. As he sleepily brushed his teeth and trimmed his stubble, he had no idea of the mysterious events in store for him that day. After showering and getting dressed for work, he went downstairs, ate a bowl of cereal, and sent his daily: “Good Morning Honey” text message to Miss Stephens, before heading out the front door and into his sparkling white BMW (which he’d only just purchased a few days prior). Once he stepped outside he immediately noticed something very strange—the sky was black.

Why was this strange you might ask?

Well by now it was past eight in the morning, and the sun should have been up, yet here it was dark outside as though it were midnight.

Though surprised by this, Mr. Tolliver figured the pitch-black sky was nothing to get worked up about, and was sure by the time he got to work the sun would be up in full force like normal. Ten minutes into his drive, however, things did in fact get stranger, when suddenly every star in the sky became a bright shade of purple, and it wasn’t long before the clouds were bathed in a sea of twinkling violet.

“What in the world?” gasped Mr. Tolliver, immediately pulling over on the side of the busy road. He wasn’t the only one either. A nearby woman walking her dog was so mesmerized by the purple phenomenon, she almost ran into a neighbor’s mailbox.

“Probably just a bunch of kids setting off fireworks,” muttered Mr. Tolliver, shaking his head and continuing to drive as the woman with the dog now hit a lamp pole.

“Darn hooligans got nothing else better to do.”

Mr. Tolliver hated trouble-making teenagers, and after accepting it was these “hooligans with fireworks” responsible for interrupting his morning commute, he made it to work a half-hour later to find the entire Ocsic office buzzing with coworkers. Most were debating wildly about the strange dark sky and purple stars, while others were staring from the nearest window, a mingled look of fear and excitement etched across their faces.

“Hey, Terrance! What do you think is going on outside? You’ve seen it right?” said a lanky man wearing a red buttoned-down shirt as Mr. Tolliver sat at his desk and unpacked his briefcase.

“No idea Pete,” said Mr. Tolliver dismissively. He then yawned loudly.

“No idea at all…”

Later on, he went to the break room for a cup of coffee and found more of his coworkers chatting away. The television that was mounted on the wall was turned to the weather channel, and Mr. Tolliver watched as the reporter speaking tried desperately to explain the bizarre sky and stars that (according to him) were occurring all over the country and making national headlines. The longer Mr. Tolliver listened, the more he got the sense the reporter had absolutely no idea why this was happening, or for that matter, what he was talking about.

When the weather report finished, Mr. Tolliver got his workday started the best way he knew how: he bossed around a few of the interns, gave his assistant a tedious stack of papers to file, headed to the water cooler for the latest piece of office gossip, then returned to his cubicle to get busy on his next assignment. Later around lunch time (as Mr. Tolliver was in the middle of reviewing a very boring spreadsheet) Pete came running from the bathroom and holding out his phone where a BREAKING NEWS announcement was scrolling across the screen.

“Due to ongoing concerns, the Governor of Georgia has issued an executive order suspending all business and school activity. Workers and students are dismissed until further notice.”

“Just great,” snarled Mr. Tolliver, crumpling up the spreadsheet as the entire office erupted into cheers. The announcement couldn’t have come at a worse time as he’d just been about to go to lunch. Grumbling even more now as he stuffed his belongings back into his briefcase, Mr. Tolliver fought his way through the mad rush of people trying to get to the elevators, while Pete continued buzzing in his ear:

“Do you think maybe it’s aliens? It’s gotta be—that’s what Bill over in accounting said!”

Ridiculous, thought Mr. Tolliver. All this fuss over a few unruly teenagers and their fireworks (though even Mr. Tolliver had to admit it was getting harder to believe his whole “fireworks theory” when the twinkling purple stars were happening all over the country). By the time he bid farewell to Pete, and drove onto the highway, he found himself stuck in a massive traffic jam.

“C’mon move it!” shouted Mr. Tolliver, his head outside the car window as he inched up the road. He hated being stuck in traffic (almost as much as waking up in the morning) and the still midnight sky only added to his annoyance. Just then, he felt his phone vibrate and saw it was Miss Stephens.

“Hi honey,” they said in unison.

“Sorry I haven't called you all day,” mumbled Mr. Tolliver. “I was up late last night and—”

“Never mind that Terrance!” said Miss Stephens quickly. “Do you see what’s happening right now? It’s still dark outside and every star is this crazy purple color and—”

“Yes darling I know,” grumbled Mr. Tolliver, as he honked obnoxiously at a slow car in front.

“And now,” huffed Miss Stephens. “They’ve gone and canceled school! Thank goodness I’ve got a five-hundred-problem multiplication worksheet at home! I’m going to make sure every student in my neighborhood gets one!”

She spoke as if any moment a child spent not doing schoolwork was a moment wasted.

“MOVE OUT OF MY WAY!” bellowed Mr. Tolliver, weaving through lanes as he continued to spew profanities at the other drivers on the road. His irritation was growing by the second.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot,” said Miss Stephens. “That playpen you wanted me to order for your nephew came in the mail today.”

“Playpen?”

“Yeah Terrance, don’t you remember? You wanted me to get something for your sister’s newborn. Mitchell isn’t it? Or did you say his name was Martin?”

She paused and chuckled:

“Don’t tell me you forgot about him already? Aren’t you supposed to be the boy's godfather?”

“Of course, I didn’t forget honey—the kid’s name is Michael," groaned Mr. Tolliver, before bellowing: “WILL YOU JUST GO?!” as the car in front hadn’t moved an inch, despite having more than enough space. Its owner was now pointing towards the sky, apparently transfixed by something.

“What’s the deal?!” screamed Mr. Tolliver, sticking his head out the window again, quite ready to give the driver in front a thorough tongue lashing—when he saw it.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Looking up, he noticed something very strange in the sky, something that definitely hadn’t been there before. Though it was still dark with the twinkling purple stars, there was now a gigantic constellation adorning it as well. Radiating brightly, this odd constellation was unlike anything Mr. Tolliver had ever seen before. Not only was it huge, but its outline had the appearance of a man and woman both wearing (what looked to be) crowns on their heads. Unless he was very mistaken—the constellation seemed to be of a king and queen sitting on their throne. To the right of the man and woman, was another constellation that had the appearance of a tiny baby.

“Tanesha let me call you back,” said Mr. Tolliver, not waiting for a reply as he hung up the phone, and stared in amazement at the blazing image. He wasn’t the only one either—for it seemed every car on the highway had at least one head poked out of a window, which caused the traffic jam to become even worse. Eventually, the police were called in to help sort out the madness, and it would be another six long hours before Mr. Tolliver was finally able to get off at his exit. Exhausted and hungry, he was driving along an empty back road when suddenly there was a loud: “BANG!” and smoke began to rise from the hood of his car.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” screamed Mr. Tolliver as the car sputtered and eventually came to a complete stop.

Shoving his phone into his pocket, he got out of the car (all the while cursing under his breath and leaving the door open) and popped the hood. Thick black smoke immediately engulfed his face as he assessed the damage. It was the strangest thing though—Mr. Tolliver’s car was only a couple of days old so there was no reason why the engine should have died so soon. After examining it he saw the engine did indeed still look brand new as though the car had barely been driven.

So then where had all the black smoke come from?

If Mr. Tolliver didn’t know any better, it was almost as if the car had died magically?

“No way!” he shouted, shaking his head vigorously. “It’s just bad luck that’s all—probably some sort of factory malfunction.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he closed the hood.

“I’ve still got a warranty on it though, so it’s all good—nothing to worry about.”

He might have actually believed this to be the case if what happened next did not occur. As Mr. Tolliver sat on the side of the road, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He wanted to call Miss Stephens, and also get in touch with a towing company. But there was one small problem—the phone wasn’t there.

“Where did I put that—?” he said as he rummaged through his slacks. This was very strange because Mr. Tolliver specifically remembered pocketing his phone. He turned around to look inside the car, but in no way was he prepared for what he saw next.

The car door was closed.

Now things were starting to get spooky.

Mr. Tolliver was sure he’d left the door open when he got out to check the engine. As a matter of fact, the door had just been open from the last time he’d glanced at it, which couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds ago. He ran up to the car door in a panic, opened it again, and looked inside: no phone—just as he thought. He then slammed it shut.

Did the door close on its own? Or was someone else there?

No, that’s impossible, Mr. Tolliver thought to himself. I’ve got to be the only person on this road for miles.

Then could it be—ghosts?

“NO!” he bellowed, and this time his scream was so loud there was an echo.

It was quite an eerie sight. Despite the purple stars and great constellations in the sky, the road was very dark, and being surrounded by willow trees swaying creepily in the wind didn’t help either.

It wasn’t long before Mr. Tolliver began to feel as though he were being watched.

Could it be thieves waiting to rob him of everything he was worth?

No, it couldn’t be, he thought to himself again. If that were the case they would’ve done it by now.

Then it had to be some knucklehead teenagers (probably the same ones responsible for the fireworks causing the purple stars) trying to scare him.

Yes! It all makes sense now, thought Mr. Tolliver triumphantly.

He must have forgotten he’d set the phone down on the side of the road as he was checking the engine, and during this time a group of teenagers snuck behind his back and took it. As they were running away one of them must’ve accidentally bumped the car door closed. It was so simple! How foolish of him to think of ghosts—honestly!

Mr. Tolliver was so relieved he’d come to this obvious conclusion, he wasn’t even mad about losing the phone anymore. He actually now felt brave and confident.

“Yeah, that’s what it is...just some kids trying to play a trick on me,” he muttered, before screaming into the air:

“Very funny you little punks! If you think you can scare Terrance Tolliver, then you’ve got another thing coming! Why don’t you come out right now and face me!”

But no one responded to the challenge. No robbers and certainly no knuckleheaded teenagers. The only sound was the soft rustling of leaves.

“Didn’t think so!” said Mr. Tolliver, as he walked towards his powerless BMW.

It was getting colder now as evening fast approached, and without a phone to call Miss Stephens, he planned to wait in the car until someone eventually drove by, and he could ask for help. But as he tried to open the driver’s side door there was one small problem:

It was locked.

Perplexed, he tried again on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He continued pulling, each time with more force, but still, the door refused to open.

“What’s the matter with this darn thing?” said Mr. Tolliver hotly.

He then bent down and looked through the window, furious with his lack of progress.

“I can’t believe th-th-th-!” Mr. Tolliver stammered, horrified at what he saw.

Neatly placed on the passenger’s seat (as though it’d been there the entire time) was his phone. But how was that even possible? Mr. Tolliver had just looked in the car a few minutes ago and the phone definitely hadn't been there—he was sure of it.

“But h-h-how?!” he sputtered, turning his head and looking hysterically in every direction.

“It’s ghosts—it has to be!”

Despite the increasingly chilly air, large patches of sweat began to form underneath his armpits. Stuttering and still fixated on the car door, Mr. Tolliver took a step back before tripping over his own feet and toppling to the ground.

Just then, the sight of two lights cutting through the foggy night air suddenly appeared. Slowly, the lights got brighter until a red pickup truck became visible, and drove past Mr. Tolliver. Apparently realizing that someone was sitting on the side of the road, the driver of the truck immediately reversed. Winding down his window he said:

“You alright brother?”

He was a very old man with many wrinkles, and a piece of chewing tobacco lodged in the side of his mouth. Mr. Tolliver, who seemed too traumatized to acknowledge the new arrival, said nothing as he continued to stutter and stare at his car. The old man for his part did not seem puzzled by this in the least bit and simply patted the top of his balding hair.

“I said are you alright?” repeated the old man, turning off his truck and getting out. After spitting in the grass, he watched in silence as Mr. Tolliver continued speaking gibberish and pointing at his car as though it were the boogeyman. Spitting one final time the old man grinned and said: “Okay, how about we get you some help?”

He then pulled on the driver’s side door handle of Mr. Tolliver’s car.

It opened.

And after retrieving Mr. Tolliver’s phone, he called Miss Stephens, who was in the middle of giving three neighborhood girls a stern lecture on the importance of studying for eight hours a day. When Miss Stephens received the call, she left as fast as she could but promised the girls to continue when she got back.

The three girls made mental notes to avoid Miss Stephens at all costs.

When she arrived on the scene Miss Stephens thanked the old man for his help, then used her own cell phone to call a tow truck. As she was about to press the call button, however, Mr. Tolliver’s car suddenly started up on its own.

He took one look at his fiancé, one look at the old man, and a final glance at his now running car and fainted.

The next few hours of what was by far the weirdest day ever for Mr. Tolliver went by slowly. From the dark sky, to the purple stars, to the constellations, to his broken-down car, to his vanishing cellphone, to his broken-down car starting up on its own—it had been one strange thing after another. Mr. Tolliver was taken to the nearest hospital because even after waking up, he continued to talk hysterically about the day’s bizarre events. He was acting so crazy in fact the concerned old man followed the ambulance to the hospital, and even stayed in the waiting area, while the doctor assured Mr. Tolliver for the umpteenth time there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, and he must’ve been imagining things. At Mr. Tolliver’s continued insistence, the doctor agreed to run a few more tests and proceeded to shut the door to the office, as Miss Stephens went into the waiting area to find the old man.

“Thank you so much for your help sir,” she said shyly. “We’ll be leaving once the doctor is finished.”

Miss Stephens then let out a deep sigh and said: “Terrance has been going through a lot of stress lately at work.”

She seemed to be trying to assure the old man that her fiancé was not insane, and any tales of locked car doors, and vanishing cell phones, were merely the product of an overworked man reaching his limit.

The old man however simply waved Miss Stephens off.

“I completely understand,” he said pleasantly, stroking through what little strands of hair remained on his head as he chomped on a new piece of tobacco.

“I’m just glad I could help.”

“I’m going to have Terrance’s car towed to my mechanic first thing in the morning,” said Miss Stephens quietly. “For it to just start up on its own like that—I’ve never seen anything like it before…”

Despite her best efforts to sound calm, it was obvious she was worried.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine! You know how these dang machines are,” said the old man with a grin. “So how are y’all getting home?”

“Well, I live right around the corner from here, and Terrance wants to take a taxi back to his house because he’s refusing to let me drive him,” said Miss Stephens irritably. She then lowered her voice: “I think he’s still a little embarrassed about what happened...you know...fainting and everything...”

The old man chuckled heartily.

“Well, it’s about time for me to take off now—it’s getting late and I have a meeting to attend. But y’all please be careful out there okay?”

“Yes sir, thank you again.”

He shook Miss Stephens’s hand and then brushed over it with his lips. She smiled slightly and nodded, at which point he made his way down the hall. By the time Miss Stephens remembered she hadn’t even asked the old man what his name was, he was already out of sight.

Once outside the old man looked up at the constellation of the king and queen.

He smiled.

He then drove out of the hospital parking lot. Meanwhile, Mr. Tolliver continued to rant to the doctor and Miss Stephens about the strange occurrences that had happened to him that day.

But little did he know the strangest things of all were yet to come.