I Thought My Taxi Driver Was Chasing Me at 3 A.M.—I Was Wrong
At 3 a.m., I was alone in a taxi, the city quiet under orange streetlights. The driver kept glancing at me in the mirror, and I felt uneasy.
When we reached my building, I rushed out and headed upstairs. Then I heard fast footsteps behind me.
It was the taxi driver.
Panic set in. I ran, heart pounding, as he followed close behind holding something. Shaking, I shouted, “Please, just take what you want!”
He stopped and gently said, “Miss, you dropped your wallet.”
My wallet—ID, bank cards, even a photo of my late dad—was still inside. I had left it in the back seat. He chased me only to return it.
That night reminded me: fear doesn’t always tell the truth. Even at 3 a.m., kindness still exists.
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