Late Night Horrors

Tina

It was sitting beside the curb outside my apartment. A white iPhone 4S in surprisingly good condition. I scooped it up from the ground to get a closer look. It probably belonged to a high school girl, judging by the horrendously glittering purple case. I admired the phone anyway - tacky though the case was, it had protected its charge fairly well. The phone had not only survived what I assumed was a fall from a careless girl's book bag, but it was in pristine condition. No hairline cracks, no dings, no dents... nothing.

As I marched into my apartment, throwing my bag on the floor and shedding my coat and shoes, I continued inspecting the phone. Whoever lost it must surely be missing it. I pressed the home button and the screen lit up. A swipe right and I discovered that the phone was not, in fact, locked. Thank goodness for stupid teenage girls (ignoring, for the moment, that I used to be exactly one of those). I searched the contacts, found one labeled "Mom" and pressed the call button.

Nothing.

It was as though the touch screen hadn't registered my fingertips. Puzzled, I pressed "call" again. And again. Nothing.

It was at that moment that I got a call on my own cell phone, a black iPhone 6. I swiped to answer and the voice of my best friend reached my ears.

"Hey, Amanda! How was your test today?"

The phone momentarily forgotten, I fell into a deep conversation with Anna about the absolute chaos that is university life. We chatted for a bit about whatever things 20-something year-old girls talk about before she got to the point.

"You busy tonight? There's a cool club that opened up not too long ago downtown and a few of my friends wanna go. You should come with!"

d around at the comfort of my apartment. I was a pretty quiet person who preferred to sit inside and read a good book, as opposed to my outgoing Anna who was always getting into heaps of trouble. It's always the story, isn't it? Opposites attract. As much as I wanted to stay in tonight, I smiled and agreed, much to Anna's squealing delight. How can I deny a request from my best friend?

We set up plans and I hung up the phone. Then I remembered the other phone sitting on my couch, dejected. I picked it up and opened it to the owner's mother's contact information. That's right! I punched the number into my own phone and hit "call." I could at least call this way.

The phone rang for a few moments. I was about to leave a message when an exhausted voice came over the speakers.

"Yeah?"

I tried not to be put off by this rude response.

"Hi, um, my name is Amanda and I found this phone outside my apartment... I think it belongs to your daughter. Is there any way I could get it to her?"

The line was quiet for a moment, aside from some labored breathing. Then: "Do you think this shit is funny? Quit it with these stupid fucking pranks."

I remained speechless for a few moments after she'd hung up on me. What the hell was her problem? Thoroughly confused, I rechecked the number. No, I had dialed the right number... well, whatever, I shrugged. I couldn't make sense of it, but it wasn't really my problem, either. Sooner or later someone was bound to call her and then I'd pick up and explain the situation to them. It would get resolved somehow.

I still had a few hours until I had to be at the club to meet Anna, so I settled down with The Good Earth and a bag of chips.

Just as I was getting deeply embedded into the story, a loud beeping startled me.

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

I looked around wildly, my eyes colliding with the lit screen of the white iPhone. Oh, that must be her ringtone. I looked at the Caller ID. "Restricted."