Speak of a story and it shall appear

Cell Phone

Less than two months prior to this day, I had been talking with my cousin. She rarely ever joined me in a conversation face-to-face as she loved 9000 miles across the sea. Oddly, she managed to hop onto my most dreaded topic; horror stories. We both exchanged immensely peculiar and often freaky coincidences, once about me getting followed around town by a rusty and ragged pick-up truck. Luckily, I lost it as I ended up being followed by the police... Then quickly being pulled over with shame.

Anyway, she began talking to me about her real-life instances. Both being grown women, we were confident in talking to each other about these things as some were... I'd say less than comfortable. Soon, she told me about this story how her friend had been gifted a new cellphone.

•••

It was back in summer of this year, Harley (her friend) was presented with the most up-to-date work cellphone with an affordable amount of interest and brilliant ratings from her office. Deciding it was suitable and handy from her trial-runs, she finally placed her old work SIM card into the cellphone. Booting up her contacts and phone number rapidly, she was immensely impressed on the fact that it was so quick to upload. Satisfied with the results after a couple weeks, she officially deemed it as her 'best and most trustworthy phone to date'.

Abruptly shattering her moment of triumph, she received a call from an unknown number.

+44153324153360

Seeming like a salesman's number, she shrugged it off and left it alone. As soon as the ringtone ended, she received another call. Only to find it wasn't the same number that was adamant on calling the brunette woman.

+44063351423351

Finding this strange, she answered it. Shrieking of an immensely high-pitched siren bellowed trough the phone speakers as she heard it. So high and so loud, she felt her heart beating in her head and her ears wailing in pain. Swiftly, she hung up and flung the phone across the room into the wall. Luckily, it didn't crack.

Over the following weeks, she decided to ignore the calls and block the number, not allowing the horrible shriek to come back for her. After weeks of asking, her daughter was finally granted permission to access the phone on the following conditions;

"Never answer calls and always give them to me!"

As she left the phone with her daughter, she decided it would be good to go shopping for a while. Her daughter waved goodbye giddily and told the mother about her planned nap. Finally, she left the large house to the daughter.

Tired eyes followed the car as it trailed and huffed down the road with effort. Alas, peace filled the house as she got to gain some peaceful sleep.

Hopping on to the couch and star-fishing onto it with happiness and bliss, she allowed her heavy eyelids to close as she entered 'Dreamland'.

Hours passed quietly until the mother reentered the garage of the house, welcoming herself inside with a sigh as she hauled the five-kilo-each bags inside the spacious house. The soft and comforting snoring of the comfortable and adorable girl soothed the woman as she continued to gather shopping bags into the house.

Finishing quickly, the woman smiled as she tip-toed slowly and cautiously to the cradled girl with the phone clutched in her hand. Prying the phone out of her hands with careful intent, she swiftly snatched it out of her remaining grip. Soon, she began to open up the phone, not minding the minor (yet gladly beautiful) banner changes, she looked over to the saved photos and videos. As expected, a few random and usual photos were taken from when she still had the phone. Then came the videos.

She knew for a fact there were no videos she had captured on this phone. However, there was a solemn video standing in the empty storage box. Shrugging it off as a video recorded by the daughter, she clicked on it out of pure curiosity.

It began by viewing the stairs, the camera whiling around and focusing on a single, sleeping figure cradled on the sofa. Strangely, it was taken from above.

Above.

Above the only person in the house at the time.

Above the only person in the house, who was asleep, at the time.

A black, gloved hand reached out for her, only to be interrupted by the sound of a car horn screaming from the garage. Finally, the video ended by the phone being dropped to the floor.

•••

Finishing her story, my cousin founded the brilliant idea of phoning Harley about what happened next.

We both glared at the Skype screen as she video called her friend from abroad. Gladly, she answered.

"Harley! Hey, I haven't talked to you in months, you don't look to well!" My cousin (Isabel) pointed out her sunken and baggy eyes, raccoon circles surrounding them. Smiling weakly into the webcam, the woman scratched the back of her head and laughed nervously.

"Yeah, you to." Her black eyes focused on the webcam as she noticed me. A needle-like finger pointed to me as she continued, "Who's this?"

"My cousin, hey, we wanna ask you a quick question," She smiled, soon dropping it and turning inquisitive and serious. Noticing this, the woman through the screen nodded in understanding, "What happened after the... 'Cell phone' incident?"

Eyes widened, the woman let out an 'oh' in surprise before straightening up. Clearing her throat, she began to tell the short story,

"I told my parents about it and asked them where on Earth they brought that bastard phone, they told me from my Uncle. Turns out he got it from the cell of an escaped prisoner because he works as a prison guard. There, now, I hope we can talk soon." She sighed, pulling her curly hair out of her face as she gazed at me. We both nodded in understanding as my cousin saw that friend off of the video call.

The only thing me and her could exchanged to each other was a gaping jaw and widened eyes. Wows came from our voice box as we realised how true that story seemed.

My phone buzzed with a missed call. Picking it up, I found the number,

+44063351423351