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The Phone is the Killer - Part 1
#WritcoStoryPrompt6
I can never forget the joyous days of my childhood, especially the summer when all we did was swim in the river or lie on its edge.
I was thinking about these memories, memories that I've always hold on to now that I'm an adult.
I've just started my first job as a salesperson, ready to embark on the unknown journey ahead.
I was a fresh graduate at this time, finally moved out of my parents house to rent my own cozy place.
It was just me.
For the first few months, I was doing fine. But then the bills caught up to me and I could no longer afford some extra night outs or other things for fun. I was too proud to ask my parents money, because I sort of left letting them know that I would handle things well on my own.
I managed to live simply a few weeks after that, but then an unfortunate event fell upon me.
Someone stole my phone.
Living in this generation, life without a phone seemed almost impossible. Especially since I was alone in a big city, trying to figure things out independently for the first time.
Again I could not ask my parents for help. I didn't want them to think I was hopeless or incapable of handling things.
What I did next would unknowingly become the number one thing I'd regret in the future.
I bought a second-hand phone.
Okay, so you might think second-hand phones are alright. That there's no need to stress about it.
That's what I thought, but then on the first night I got my phone, someone called me in the middle of the night.
An unfamiliar ringtone echoed around my room. It was unfamiliar because I wasn't able to change the settings.
I ignored it at first. But then minutes later, it rang again.
I thought this must be crazy, who would be calling me in this ungodly hour? But then maybe the previous owner could be in trouble and just needed my help.
Trying to gather patience, I picked up the phone and answered.
A person was panting on the other end, like someone who's just finished a marathon.
"Hello?" I said .
No answer, just heavy breathing and panting.
Then it went dead quiet .
I was about to turn it off, when a woman started to speak.
"Christina."
I was shocked. How could this person know my name?
"W-who is this?" I stuttered.
"It doesn't matter. Listen to what I'm going to say. Record it if you must. This is important."
I got up from...
I can never forget the joyous days of my childhood, especially the summer when all we did was swim in the river or lie on its edge.
I was thinking about these memories, memories that I've always hold on to now that I'm an adult.
I've just started my first job as a salesperson, ready to embark on the unknown journey ahead.
I was a fresh graduate at this time, finally moved out of my parents house to rent my own cozy place.
It was just me.
For the first few months, I was doing fine. But then the bills caught up to me and I could no longer afford some extra night outs or other things for fun. I was too proud to ask my parents money, because I sort of left letting them know that I would handle things well on my own.
I managed to live simply a few weeks after that, but then an unfortunate event fell upon me.
Someone stole my phone.
Living in this generation, life without a phone seemed almost impossible. Especially since I was alone in a big city, trying to figure things out independently for the first time.
Again I could not ask my parents for help. I didn't want them to think I was hopeless or incapable of handling things.
What I did next would unknowingly become the number one thing I'd regret in the future.
I bought a second-hand phone.
Okay, so you might think second-hand phones are alright. That there's no need to stress about it.
That's what I thought, but then on the first night I got my phone, someone called me in the middle of the night.
An unfamiliar ringtone echoed around my room. It was unfamiliar because I wasn't able to change the settings.
I ignored it at first. But then minutes later, it rang again.
I thought this must be crazy, who would be calling me in this ungodly hour? But then maybe the previous owner could be in trouble and just needed my help.
Trying to gather patience, I picked up the phone and answered.
A person was panting on the other end, like someone who's just finished a marathon.
"Hello?" I said .
No answer, just heavy breathing and panting.
Then it went dead quiet .
I was about to turn it off, when a woman started to speak.
"Christina."
I was shocked. How could this person know my name?
"W-who is this?" I stuttered.
"It doesn't matter. Listen to what I'm going to say. Record it if you must. This is important."
I got up from...
