My name is David Harris, and I work as a long-haul truck driver. In my years on the road, I've heard countless tales, but none more chilling than the legend of the Vanishing Hitchhiker on Route 23. Late one night, I was driving down a desolate stretch of this highway when I saw her—a young woman standing by the side of the road, her thumb outstretched, looking for a ride.
I pulled over and offered her a lift. She was quiet, almost ethereal, and gave me an address a few miles up the road. As we drove, I tried to make conversation, but she responded with only a few words, her eyes distant. When we reached the address, I turned to tell her we had arrived, but she was gone. The seat was empty, and the door had never opened.
A week later when i had to pass from that address again, I knocked on the door of the house. An elderly woman answered, and when I described the hitchhiker, she went pale. She told me the girl matched the description of her daughter who had died in a car accident on that very road years ago. Ever since, there have been reports of her ghost appearing to travelers, seeking one last ride home. The Vanishing Hitchhiker remains one of the most unsettling experiences of my life, a reminder that some spirits are never truly at rest.