The Yellow Taxi
A few years ago, I travelled to South Korea to teach English. I living in an apartment which I shared with two Korean girls named i Sun and Young. One night, we went to a nightclub. The two girls and I had some drinks and danced for hours. At the end of the night, we decided to get a taxi home.
Outside the nightclub, I waved at a yellow taxi that was passing by. It stopped and we got inside. I was sitting in the front seat and my two friends were sitting in the back seat.
The taxi driver was an odd fellow. He spoke very good English and began telling us some jokes. He was actually quite funny and I found myself laughing at everything he said. When I glanced behind me, I noticed that Mi Sun and Hwa Young were not laughing at all. In fact, they were sitting there, stone-faced, with a really odd expression on their faces.
“What’s wrong”, I asked. “Why aren’t you laughing?”
They wouldn’t answer me. Instead, they sat there in the back seat, staring straight ahead.
Suddenly, Hwa Young leaned forward and said something to the taxi driver in Korean.
He pulled over to the side of the road and the two girls got out of the yellow taxi and started walking away quickly.
I was puzzled. This wasn’t our stop. In fact, we were nowhere near our apartment. I paid the driver and ran after the two girls.
“What’s the matter?” I asked when I caught up with them.
They turned to me, their faces white with fear.
“We have to call the police!” said Hwa young.
“Didn’t you hear it?” said Mi Sun. “Coming from the trunk of the taxi. A woman’s voice saying “Please help me. Please help me.”
The taxi driver was an odd fellow. He spoke very good English and began telling us some jokes. He was actually quite funny and I found myself laughing at everything he said. When I glanced behind me, I noticed that Mi Sun and Hwa Young were not laughing at all. In fact, they were sitting there, stone-faced, with a really odd expression on their faces.
“What’s wrong”, I asked. “Why aren’t you laughing?”
They wouldn’t answer me. Instead, they sat there in the back seat, staring straight ahead.
Suddenly, Hwa Young leaned forward and said something to the taxi driver in Korean.
He pulled over to the side of the road and the two girls got out of the yellow taxi and started walking away quickly.
I was puzzled. This wasn’t our stop. In fact, we were nowhere near our apartment. I paid the driver and ran after the two girls.
“What’s the matter?” I asked when I caught up with them.
They turned to me, their faces white with fear.
“We have to call the police!” said Hwa young.
“Didn’t you hear it?” said Mi Sun. “Coming from the trunk of the taxi. A woman’s voice saying “Please help me. Please help me.”
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