I tried to forget what happened that day. Everyone did. Nobody talked about the bus. Nobody talked about the driver. It was like it had never happened. Until two weeks later. I was walking home from school when my phone buzzed. Unknown Number. It was a picture. Our old school bus. Parked in the middle of the woods. Underneath it was one sentence. “It never finished its route.” ⸻ That night… I couldn’t sleep. At exactly 3:13 AM… I heard a familiar sound outside. The squeak of bus brakes. I looked through my bedroom window. The bus was parked in front of my house. Its headlights were off. The folding door slowly opened. No one got out. Then the yellow lights above the windshield flashed. Once. Twice. Three times. The destination sign changed. Instead of my school’s name… It read: FINAL STOP ⸻ The next morning… There were tire tracks in my driveway. My parents laughed when I showed them. They said a delivery truck must’ve backed in. But I knew better. The tracks stopped at my front door. They never left. ⸻ The next day at school… I found Ethan sitting alone. He looked exhausted. Before I could say anything… He whispered, “It came to my house too.” He pulled out his phone. He had the same picture. Same bus. Same message. ⸻ We decided to go to the bus garage after school. Our old bus was parked in the very back. Covered in dust. The number painted on the side was faded. 23. The doors were locked. But one of the mechanics noticed us staring. “You kids shouldn’t be near that one.” “Why?” He looked uncomfortable. “That bus was retired years ago.” I frowned. “We rode it two weeks ago.” He slowly shook his head. “No…” “That bus hasn’t driven a route in eleven years.” ⸻ That night… I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So I searched old newspaper archives. Eventually… I found an article. LOCAL SCHOOL BUS MISSING Eleven years earlier. A bus carrying twenty-three students never made it home. Search crews found it three days later. Parked deep in the woods. Completely empty. No driver. No children. The investigation was never solved. Then I noticed something. The driver’s photo. It was him. The man who drove us. ⸻ My phone suddenly rang. Unknown Number. I answered. Static. Then… The driver’s voice. Soft. Almost crying. “I counted wrong.” “I let one stay on.” The call disconnected. ⸻ That same night… Every kid who had been on Bus 23 woke up to the same sound. Three slow knocks. On the front door. When I looked through the peephole… The driver was standing there. Still wearing his uniform. Rain dripping from his hat. He looked older. Tired. He didn’t smile. He simply held up one finger. Then pointed behind me. I turned around. Every seat from the bus… Was lined up in my living room. Twenty-three of them. All empty. Except the last one. The kid in the yellow raincoat was sitting there. This time… It had a face. Mine. It smiled. Then whispered… “Your stop was yesterday.” #fyp #viral #scarytiktoks #scarystories #scary - @midnight_nightmare_files