Story 48
Handprints
When I went to get in my car this morning, I saw it was covered in countless handprints. A chill ran straight down my spine.
You know how, when you touch a dirty car, it leaves clear marks?
It looked exactly like that.
But the strange thing was—they were small. Child-sized hands, maybe belonging to an elementary school kid.
Even the windows were covered in them, packed close together. It was sickening to look at.
Even if it was just a prank, I couldn’t make sense of it.
I checked the dashcam footage (it’s the kind that keeps recording for a while even when the car’s parked), but there was nothing. Not a single thing caught on camera.
Later, when I took the car to get washed, the gas station attendant pointed something out—
There were more of those sticky little handprints all over the roof of the car too.
My car’s a Land Cruiser.
