I worked every day, but still ended up poor. It’s been 10 years since I joined a small local publishing company after graduating from college. I never left work on time, almost always coming home on the last train. But I’ve never been paid for overtime.
Most of my monthly salary disappeared into living expenses. Bonuses were like a drop in the bucket. So I had no savings at all.
My friends from college say I should talk to the labor standards office. But it’s not that easy.
What will happen to me after I report to the labor standards office? Will I be able to keep working at the same company as before? Will I be able to find another job right away if I decide to switch? I don’t have the energy or time to think about it, so I just keep working out of inertia.
When I turn on the TV, I see a lot of younger people who seem less capable than me, but they’re making more money. It makes me furious. I want to be famous too. I want my name to be known. And I want to live an easier life. I want to indulge myself.
But deep down, I know. To become famous, I need to take action. I need to take that first step to change my life and myself.
“Shinoyama, are you okay with scary stories?” My boss, Mr. Uemura, asked me out of the blue. It was unusual for me to finish work early today, so we were standing in the parking lot of the convenience store near the office, smoking cigarettes and drinking canned beer. Although it was past 10 p.m., we called it an early finish.
“Why out of the blue? Well, are you talking about ghost stories or urban legends when you say scary stories?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah, my daughter who is in high school these days often says, ‘I’m tired of hearing scary stories all the time at school,’” he said.
“Oh, yeah, those trends come and go occasionally,” I replied.
I think the environment that high school students experience these days is quite different from when I was a student. But it seems like such trends are similar.
“Yeah, yeah, exactly. You see, with the prevalence of SNS (social media) these days, new stories come up and spread quickly. There are even some curious kids in my daughter’s class who compete to be the first ones to learn and share the newest scary stories at school,” he said.
“Well, they must be quite curious,” I commented.
As I said that, I couldn’t help but think that if I were a high school student now, I might have been caught up in the competition too.
“People who enjoy scary stories must be having fun. But for those who are easily scared like my daughter, it must be a tough situation,” he said.
“Well, that’s true. I personally enjoy scary stories, so it’s not a problem for me, but I can imagine it might be uncomfortable for your daughter,” I said.
“Yeah, exactly. And then she vents all the stress she accumulates at school on me, you know? It’s really getting on my nerves…” Mr. Uemura continued to complain about his daughter and wife, but I just let it flow past me.
I wasn’t really interested in Mr. Uemura’s complaints. However, the fact that scary stories were trending among the younger generation through social media did pique my curiosity a bit. Despite Mr. Uemura’s ongoing complaints about his daughter and wife, I just brushed them off.
Once I got home, I immediately took a shower. Although it was already past midnight, I couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the story I heard from Mr. Uemura about the trend of scary stories among high school students. I had planned to go to bed early tonight, but now I felt the urge to look it up.
I opened the SNS (social media) app that I rarely used.
When I looked into it, I did find a lot of scary stories and mysterious tales. At first, I had just planned to take a quick look. But I’ve always been into occult stuff, so before I knew it, I was engrossed in reading and searching for more.
As I read through them, I realized something. While there were many posts of scary stories, the quality was quite inconsistent. Some were genuinely scary, but there were also many poorly-written stories that seemed like pure fabrication.
The ratio of boring stories to good ones was overwhelmingly high. I couldn’t help but wonder if these people weren’t embarrassed to be posting such low-quality content.
But what surprised me the most was that even the boring stories were getting a decent amount of shares.
“I could do this too, couldn’t I?” I blurted out, unable to contain my excitement.
With just this level of content, if it can get shared, I feel like I could write something too. It seems pretty easy. So I decided to give it a try and make a post.
After much deliberation, I decided to keep my content simple.
“One night, I was walking while looking at my smartphone when someone behind me warned, “Walking and using your phone is dangerous.” I quickly turned around, but there was no one there.
Thinking it was just my imagination, I continued walking while looking at my phone, and then suddenly I was pushed from behind and almost fell. Startled, I checked behind me, but there was no one there, and it made me feel uneasy.”
It was not that scary, but it’s a story that could easily happen in real life. Maybe there will be people who believe it.
#UrbanLegend
#TrueExperience
#ScaryStory
#WalkingWhileUsingPhone”
I added hashtags, though I’m not familiar with social media, so I could only come up with generic ones. But well, it’s my first time, so it should be fine.
After posting, I suddenly felt sleepy and threw my phone onto the bed before falling asleep.
The next morning, I woke up to my phone’s alarm. When I checked the time, I realized I had overslept by 15 minutes. I clicked my tongue, hurriedly got up from the bed.
When I looked in the closet, I realized that my stock of ironed shirts was gone. Damn, not on a day like this. I quickly picked a shirt with the fewest wrinkles. I had to leave soon, or I would be late.
I was hungry, but I didn’t have time to eat. I poured water into a glass in the kitchen and chugged it down. I hurriedly changed my clothes and washed my face before leaving the house.
I ran as fast as I could to the station and just barely caught the train. My breathing wouldn’t calm down. My sweaty shirt clung to my body, making me feel uncomfortable.
Feeling exhausted, so exhausted… Ah, I really hate mornings like this.
It was a terrible morning, and I was sure today would be another day of overtime. I had a feeling I would be taking the last train home again. Lost in such thoughts, I completely forgot about the scary story I had posted on social media yesterday.
I knew it myself, but one of my flaws was that I was forgetful and easily bored. I could get hooked on something quickly, but I could also lose interest just as fast. Of course, SNS (social media) was no exception.
After a hectic morning due to oversleeping, I had completely forgotten that I had posted a scary story on social media. And then, two months had passed.
The trigger that made me open SNS again was a conversation with my boss, Mr. Uemura.
“Hey, what do you think about urban legends?”
It was a question out of the blue. Today, I was able to finish work early at around 7 p.m., so I came to a pub near the station.
A cold beer after work always tastes great. Drinking in front of a convenience store is fine, but it feels even better to drink at a pub.
“Is it about your daughter again?”
I thought the conversation was going to be boring, so I unintentionally responded with a prickly tone.
“Yeah, apparently a student at my daughter’s school had an accident that resembled the content of an urban legend.”
Mr. Uemura sighed, holding a beer mug. He didn’t seem to think much of my remark.
“Isn’t it just a coincidence? These things happen sometimes, you know.”
“Well, I thought the same at first, but there’s something strange about it. It’s not just one or two people who had accidents, and there are even kids who died.”
I was suddenly sobered up. I never thought there would be deaths related to urban legends.
“That’s quite serious.”
“Right? And apparently, there are families where both the child and the parent died in traffic accidents almost at the same time on the day the child passed away from the accident.”
I couldn’t say anything as I looked at Mr. Uemura, who was talking with a pained expression. The content of the conversation was too heavy for a drinking session. Without waiting for my response, Mr. Uemura continued.
“Oh, and there are also rumors of students going crazy and falling down the stairs after hearing about the accidents. It’s getting to the point where it can’t be dismissed as just mere gossip.”
“Yeah, it’s surprising that the story is bigger than I thought. But does it have anything to do with urban legends?”
To me, it didn’t feel like an urban legend, but more like some kind of event.
“At school, they’ve been talking a lot about how it’s all because of an urban legend. I think the name was ‘Patrol Man’ or something like that.”
“What kind of ridiculous name is that?”
“Yeah, I thought the same at first, but listening to my daughter’s story, I can’t really laugh about it.”
With that, Mr. Uemura told me about the urban legend of Patrol Man.
I usually listen to Mr. Uemura’s stories absentmindedly, but today I found myself listening attentively. That’s because the content of Mr. Uemura’s urban legend was eerily similar to a made-up story that I had came up with.
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