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My Car Girl (My Love Lines)

I have met so many girls before her, but she is different.

Things I like in her,

1. She always prefers a red dress; it's pretty.

2. Her red color car.

3. Cute smile, As she maintain always.

4. The way she looks at me.

5. Twice a week, she follows me up to my office.

6. The way she overtook me.

7. The way I use her shall touch me.

8. The good smell that comes from her.

I never looked into her eyes directly, but she always does. I still have that fear in my heart. I think around 30 to 40 times I saw her in the same place, but only 3 or 4 times I met her eyes. Each time, I met the same looks. Directly looking into my eyes and trying to read, if possible, tried to question my heart, “What are you staring at me?”. She likes her car a lot and never allows the street dogs to touch her car. I had never seen her while driving that red car. Maybe she doesn't know the driver. The way she sits on her car bonnet makes me laugh. In the first days of our story, if found nearby, she got out of the car and started staring at me. When she understood that I was watching her, she stopped doing that. One day, she intentionally stood in my way; I knew she would talk with me today, but unfortunately, she did not. She just looked at me and laughed but did not try to speak. I walk with the same inner fear. There is a reason for my fear. I saw a man with a white shirt and white pants. He is a skinny man, around two to three. I saw him while driving that car. She doesn't smile when he is there.

The only thing I never understood was that my colleagues who walked in the same way never saw her. I don't know why. One day, my friend and I were coming to the office in the same way. When I reached her, she threw her shoulder towards me. I just moved, and my colleagues were shocked and asked me what had happened. That day, I understood that she was visible only to me, not to all.

If I didn't like to put the title as My Dream Girl, I don't know why, but I felt My Car Girl was okay. What do you think?

If possible, tomorrow I plan to ask her name. The only problem is that if anyone sees me talking to her, they may think I'm mad!

Chapter-2 (Her Name)

I finally did it. I walked up to her, heart pounding, palms sweaty. She was leaning on the bonnet of her car, eyes fixed on mine like she was waiting for me. Her smile was there, soft and lingering, but her eyes…they seemed deeper this time. Like she was inviting me closer.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Her smile faded just a bit, and for the first time, I saw her hesitate. Her lips parted, and she mouthed something, but no sound came out. Her eyes darted to the car, almost instinctively.

I stepped closer, just a foot away from her now. “Your name,” I repeated, louder, more confident. Her lips trembled. She tried again—this time, I heard a whisper, something soft and broken, like it was struggling to escape.

But I couldn’t understand it. It was like listening through water—muffled and distant. Her eyes grew wider, almost desperate. She raised her hand, pointing to the car. The license plate gleamed under the morning sun. KA-09 1978.

“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head.

Her hand dropped, and she took a step back, her eyes locked on mine, now filled with something I couldn’t explain—fear? Regret? Sorrow? Before I could speak again, she turned away and got into the car. The engine roared to life, louder than usual, and for a moment, I swore I heard her voice whispering my name from within.

The car pulled away slowly, fading into the morning mist. I stood there, frozen, until the sound disappeared entirely.

When I asked around, nobody knew about a red car parked there. I even checked with the local shops. An old mechanic told me there was a car like that—a long time ago. He chuckled, almost nervously. “Some folks say she’s still around. Looking for someone. But that’s just old talk, right?” He laughed, but his eyes betrayed something…fear, perhaps.

I didn’t believe him. Until the next week. I saw her again—same red dress, same red car, waiting in the same spot. Her eyes locked on mine the moment she saw me. She smiled. I didn’t ask her name this time.

I just waved.

And she waved back.

Ignore

My Car Girl (My Love Lines) - Chapter 3: The Ones Who See

For weeks, she returned like clockwork—same spot, same shimmer, same mysterious stillness. That red car, always parked just beyond the curve in the lane. Familiar. Alluring.

Until one day, someone else noticed.

As we approached the office gates, my colleague Liam nudged Noah.

“That’s a classic, isn’t it?” he whispered, nodding toward her car.

I stopped in my tracks.

“You see it?” I asked, careful not to sound too eager.

Liam squinted. “Yeah, red coupe. Definitely vintage. Looks… untouched. But strange—no one’s ever seen anyone inside.”

That was the first time someone else acknowledged it. Even though he sees different model and differed colour still its a red car.

Curious, I started asking a few others. But not everyone could see what I saw.

Ava, bright and sharp-eyed, laughed when I mentioned it.

“That spot’s always empty,” she said. “I park near it every day. Maybe you’re dreaming.”

But Elina, the quiet one from our team, had a different reaction.

“I thought I saw something inside once,” she murmured. “A red cloth. Draped across the passenger seat. It looked… ceremonial. Almost like it didn’t belong to this time.”

I asked, “are you talking about red car?”

Elina, “Yes, blood red colour, with so many scratches on sides”

And then Jonas, who I walked with some mornings, shared something stranger.

“I didn’t see the car,” he said. “But I saw a red cloth floating above that space. In the air. Like silk in water. It hovered… just for a second. Then it disappeared.”

He paused. “I was the only one who reacted. Everyone else just kept walking.”

That evening, in the quiet of our apartment, I brought it up with my roommate Emil.

“You think ghosts are real?” I asked.

He looked at me for a moment, then shrugged.

“Not like the stories. But I believe in… traces. Residue. People don’t always leave cleanly.”

“Are they always bad?”

“Not all. Some are lost. Some just want to be seen.”

We fell into silence. I pulled out the sticky note I’d kept since the first week.

KA 09–1978

“That’s the number on her car,” I said.

We tried looking it up—old vehicle records, forums, even archived accident reports.

Nothing. No mention of the number. No match.

It was like it had never existed.

And still, I could picture it clearly. The shine, the curve, the stillness.

It didn’t scare me.

It fascinated me.

That car wasn’t chasing me.

It was pulling me in.

A few days later, Jonas visited our place. We were just hanging out when he spotted the sticky note on my wall.

He stepped closer. “That number…”

I looked over.

“You’ve seen it?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s almost the same as what I saw the day that cloth thing happened. I remember the digits. But the prefix… felt different somehow.”

He couldn’t explain it. Neither could I.

Emil muttered, “What if it’s not the same car in every version? What if it’s one… trying to become many?”

We all fell quiet.

That night, I had a dream.

I was standing by my apartment window. The street below was wrapped in a silver fog. And in the middle of that mist, parked under the flickering lamp, was her red car. Unmoving. Perfect.

She was sitting on the bonnet again—legs crossed, dress gently rippling in the breeze.

Her head turned. Slowly.

She looked right at me, though I was five floors up.

And smiled.

I didn’t wake up afraid. I woke up wishing I could fall back in.

Since then, I haven’t seen her outside the street.

Not once.

It’s been two months now.

The red car is gone.

No shimmer on the pavement.

No figure on the bonnet.

No floating red cloth.

Some days I wonder if I imagined it all.

Other days, I walk that street with a quiet hope—half expecting her to be there, just around the bend.

But the space remains empty.

Silent.

Like it’s holding its breath.

As if she’s waiting.

Or watching.

Or choosing… when to return.

I am in

H

Chapter-2 (Her Name)

I finally did it. I walked up to her, heart pounding, palms sweaty. She was leaning on the bonnet of her car, eyes fixed on mine like she was waiting for me. Her smile was there, soft and lingering, but her eyes…they seemed deeper this time. Like she was inviting me closer.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Her smile faded just a bit, and for the first time, I saw her hesitate. Her lips parted, and she mouthed something, but no sound came out. Her eyes darted to the car, almost instinctively.

I stepped closer, just a foot away from her now. “Your name,” I repeated, louder, more confident. Her lips trembled. She tried again—this time, I heard a whisper, something soft and broken, like it was struggling to escape.

But I couldn’t understand it. It was like listening through water—muffled and distant. Her eyes grew wider, almost desperate. She raised her hand, pointing to the car. The license plate gleamed under the morning sun. KA-09 1978.

“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head.

Her hand dropped, and she took a step back, her eyes locked on mine, now filled with something I couldn’t explain—fear? Regret? Sorrow? Before I could speak again, she turned away and got into the car. The engine roared to life, louder than usual, and for a moment, I swore I heard her voice whispering my name from within.

The car pulled away slowly, fading into the morning mist. I stood there, frozen, until the sound disappeared entirely.

When I asked around, nobody knew about a red car parked there. I even checked with the local shops. An old mechanic told me there was a car like that—a long time ago. He chuckled, almost nervously. “Some folks say she’s still around. Looking for someone. But that’s just old talk, right?” He laughed, but his eyes betrayed something…fear, perhaps.

I didn’t believe him. Until the next week. I saw her again—same red dress, same red car, waiting in the same spot. Her eyes locked on mine the moment she saw me. She smiled. I didn’t ask her name this time.

I just waved.

And she waved back.

My Car Girl (My Love Lines)

I have met so many girls before her, but she is different.

Things I like in her,

1. She always prefers a red dress; it's pretty.

2. Her red color car.

3. Cute smile, As she maintain always.

4. The way she looks at me.

5. Twice a week, she follows me up to my office.

6. The way she overtook me.

7. The way I use her shall touch me.

8. The good smell that comes from her.

I never looked into her eyes directly, but she always does. I still have that fear in my heart. I think around 30 to 40 times I saw her in the same place, but only 3 or 4 times I met her eyes. Each time, I met the same looks. Directly looking into my eyes and trying to read, if possible, tried to question my heart, “What are you staring at me?”. She likes her car a lot and never allows the street dogs to touch her car. I had never seen her while driving that red car. Maybe she doesn't know the driver. The way she sits on her car bonnet makes me laugh. In the first days of our story, if found nearby, she got out of the car and started staring at me. When she understood that I was watching her, she stopped doing that. One day, she intentionally stood in my way; I knew she would talk with me today, but unfortunately, she did not. She just looked at me and laughed but did not try to speak. I walk with the same inner fear. There is a reason for my fear. I saw a man with a white shirt and white pants. He is a skinny man, around two to three. I saw him while driving that car. She doesn't smile when he is there.

The only thing I never understood was that my colleagues who walked in the same way never saw her. I don't know why. One day, my friend and I were coming to the office in the same way. When I reached her, she threw her shoulder towards me. I just moved, and my colleagues were shocked and asked me what had happened. That day, I understood that she was visible only to me, not to all.

If I didn't like to put the title as My Dream Girl, I don't know why, but I felt My Car Girl was okay. What do you think?

If possible, tomorrow I plan to ask her name. The only problem is that if anyone sees me talking to her, they may think I'm mad!

Ignore