Dark, foreboding, and yet somewhat peaceful are just a few words to describe the neon-lit signs of a gas station in the middle of a desert - a place seemingly located nowhere. A bored but relaxed teenager stood behind the counter, waiting for the occasional customer who rarely came by at night.

Working the night shift at the gas station gave Harold a chance to unwind after completing his tasks. He'd taken the job to appease his mother, who constantly nagged him about being lazy during summer break. Harold had spent most of his days lying around the house, watching TV, and playing video games. To get her off his back, he accepted this quiet night shift at a gas station near their home - a job that promised both peace and solitude.

One night, as Harold enjoyed the rare serenity of his shift, the phone rang. The sound startled him; it was unusual for the gas station to receive calls, especially so late at night.

"Hello?" Harold answered, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Oh, thank God someone picked up!" came a frantic response.

"Uh? can I help you?" Harold asked, confused.

"You damn well can! I've been stuck in the bathroom for days without food or water! Call the fire department - or at least open the damn door!"

Bewildered by the strange plea, Harold put down the phone and walked to the gas station bathroom. However, when he opened the door, he found it completely empty - a grimy, disgusting space typical of gas station restrooms, but with no sign of anyone inside. Frustrated, Harold returned to the phone.

"Listen, jackass," Harold said angrily, "I just checked the bathroom. You're not in there. In fact, no one's in there at all!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" the voice on the other end yelled in desperation. "I just saw you come in! There's no way you didn't see me!"

"Fine," Harold snapped. "I'll check both bathrooms. But if you're not there, I'm done with your prank calls, got it?"

Slamming the phone down, Harold stormed off to check the bathrooms again - both the men's and women's this time. But as expected, they were completely empty. Furious, he marched back to the phone just as it rang again.

"How the hell did you not see me when I was right in front of you?!" the voice screamed, even more desperate now.

"Listen, buddy," Harold said with finality. "I've got three hours left on my shift, and I'm not wasting them on your stupid prank calls. So piss off and don't call again!" He slammed the phone down.

The next day, Harold's manager called to ask if he'd been harassed by a prank caller claiming to be trapped in the gas station bathroom. Harold explained what had happened, and the manager assured him that he would call the police if the prankster persisted.

A few days later, the calls continued. This time, the manager kept his word and contacted the police. When the prankster called again, sounding weak and desperate, an officer was sent to trace the call. As the officer worked, his face suddenly went pale.

"The call? it's coming from inside the gas station," he said. "We need to call the fire department immediately."

The fire department arrived and began searching the building. Hours later, they found the source of the calls: a man wedged inside the walls of the gas station, emaciated and barely alive.

"I told you I was in the gas station," the man whispered with his final breath.