The Midnight Shuttle

“Just got home, Miss?” Aditia greeted the passenger in his angkot. “Yeah, Dit. Same old shift. Evening shift means I get home at night,” Rosa replied, a factory worker who wound electrical cables for a living. Rosa usually sat in the front seat whenever she rode the angkot, especially when Aditia was driving. She trusted him completely, he was polite, calm, and respectful. Unlike other drivers, who often became rough and inappropriate once the night got late. “Dit, it’s quiet today. Not like usual,” Rosa said. “Nah, it’s fine. Still busy,” Aditia answered with a soft smile. “Good thing it didn’t rain, huh? Otherwise it would’ve been hard for me to even get out of the factory,” Rosa said. Her workplace was far from the main road where the angkot usually stopped. “Tomorrow I won’t be driving,” Aditia said. “So just take whichever one passes by first. Don’t go home too late, okay? Your kids are waiting for you.” Rosa was a widow with three children. Her husband had left her for another woman. She often talked to Aditia because he felt safe—like family. That’s why they seemed so close. “You know, I only wait for your angkot,” Rosa said quietly. “The others… I’m scared, Dit. I’m a woman, and it’s already late. Even if I dress properly, if someone has bad intentions…” “Yeah, that’s why I keep telling you,” Aditia said. “If you can, just take your regular ojek instead.” “It’s expensive, Dit… and my house is far.” “Just… be careful, okay?” Aditia reminded her again. Aditia always saw Rosa like an older sister. In her, he saw his own mother, another woman raising children alone. The difference was only fate: Rosa was abandoned by her husband, while Aditia’s mother was left behind by death. And the angkot… was all they had left. ... “You just got home?” Dita, his younger sister, asked when Aditia entered the house. “Yeah. Any food left?” Aditia asked. “It’s on the table. Mom’s already asleep, been like thirty minutes. She was waiting for you, you know. It’s almost two in the morning.” “Annoying,” Aditia muttered. “You’re the annoying one! Normal drivers stop at ten, not two in the morning, are you driving ghosts or what?!” “Hush…” Aditia covered her mouth with his hand. “Why?!” “Ghosts might hear you,” he teased. Dita froze. Then screamed. And ran straight to their mother’s room. Knock… knock… knock… Aditia was eating alone when he heard it. Three in the morning. He glanced at the door. Knock… knock… knock… “Hel…p…” A low, broken voice seeped through the wood. Aditia slowly reached into his pocket. The knocking stopped. Then started again, softer this time. He whispered something under his breath. “Diteuteup ti hareup sieup… Mikaeunteup mikasieup… Mangka eunteup mangka sieup… Ka awaking…” “NYINGKAH SIA!!!” His hand slammed against the door. A faint object pressed into the wood. The knocking weakened. Weaker. Weaker. Then .... Silence. ... “Mbak Rosa, please get in.” Rosa didn’t react like usual. Aditia had to call her several times before she finally stepped into the angkot. “Something wrong?” he asked. She didn’t answer. Just… looked down. The air felt colder tonight. Too cold. “Your kids okay?” Aditia tried again. “Dit… stop here,” Rosa finally said. They had been silent for nearly thirty minutes. Near a cemetery gate. Aditia frowned. “Why here, Miss?” Rosa stared forward, eyes empty. “You were right,” she said softly. “Your angkot really is full every night.” Aditia went still. “…What do you mean?” Rosa slowly raised her hand and pointed behind him. Not turning around. Just pointing. “…Them.” Aditia’s breath caught. He turned. Slowly. Empty seats. Except they weren’t empty. “M-Mbak…?” Aditia broke down. Tears came instantly. Like a child. Rosa cried too. “I followed what you said… I took the first angkot home,” she whispered. “But that day… it was my time.” Her voice shook. “I worked overtime… I wanted extra money for my youngest’s school fees. I went home at eleven. I got on the first angkot I saw…” Her hands trembled. “It felt strange… then a few drunk men got in. The driver suddenly turned toward the cemetery.” A pause. A long, suffocating pause. “They dragged me out.” Her fingers pointed to her body. “I wasn’t wearing anything wrong. I did nothing wrong.” Silence. Then .... “I was r***d,” she said. “All of them.” Aditia couldn’t breathe. “They killed me with a wooden stake… and buried me here like I was nothing.” Rosa smiled weakly through tears. “But I waited, Dit. I waited for my kids.” Aditia collapsed. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Rosa shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.” ... The Police Came Later “Five of them?” Chief Dirga asked. “Yes,” Aditia nodded. “One was the driver.” Dirga sighed heavily. “Tell her… she can rest now.” Aditia turned toward Rosa. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of your kids. They’ll stay in school.” Rosa smiled. And slowly faded. The scent of jasmine filled the air. One by One But the night wasn’t over. Five passengers remained. A headless man by the river. An abandoned grandfather whose legs had rotted from hunger. And more… Aditia exhaled. “Dita’s gonna scream again…” He rubbed his face. “Dad… you really left me a weird job.” ... “The Driver of Lost Souls” His name was Aditia. Twenty-two years old. A university student on scholarship by day. Angkot driver by night. But that wasn’t all. His father’s last words were simple, “Drive this angkot. Pick up every passenger. Take them wherever they need to go.” Then he gave him a small keris, a warning. Some passengers were not alive. Some were not human. At first, Aditia was terrified. Now… He understood. It wasn’t a curse. It was a responsibility. A sacred one. Because some souls don’t know how to go home alone. And someone has to drive them there.