Book of Horror Stories

Phone Call

Pay phones have nearly become extinct in this day and age, gone the way of VHS tapes and keeping your dinner to yourself rather than sharing it via social media with thousands of others. So when you see one of these rare structures from a simpler past, most often worn away by the elements and stained with graffiti and dirty advertisements , you often think: who, bar homeless people checking for change or embarrassed men wanting a number for a busty escort, uses these anymore?

It was on my way home from finishing a shift at a very budget version of a KFC that I noticed one. I had taken that some route home most days for the last 3 years and never even registered it being there, but on a slightly colder than usual night in September, as a misty rain started to blur the vision of my glasses, there it was. The solitary phone box. Not decorated with the average drawn on penises and curse words, but disheveled and enamelled with black grime nonetheless.

I started to walk on, unfazed by the outdated mystery box that had passed me by for years. Until it rang.

Why did I answer? I dont know. Call it mans innate curiosity, but something got the better of me. Who the hell was calling a random British small town pay phone at 11:07pm at night? Was it one of those pre-recorded cold calls (likely)? Or was it something far more bizarre? For a 22 year old fried chicken shop worker, life wasnt all that exciting, so picking up the receiver to make a Tuesday night a little interesting it was.

Well, good evening, I answered cockily and confidently, just in case I stroked it lucky and it was one of these filthy chat up lines.

Crackling. Wind. Static. Maybe a womans breathing, the connection was too bad to tell. I put the phone down and made my way back to my one bedroom flat.

It rang again.

Once more I thought, I really had very little going on at home that night.

Hello, Jamie speaking, how can I be of assistance on this dreary night? I answered.

Oh hi! Sorry about the last call, the signal is really bad here!

A girl. An American girl. What sounded like a cute American girl (British accents arent all that sexy, so I just presumed).

Erm no problem. So whattup, I said for some reason, my internal voice reminding me why Im single.

Oh nothing much, just bored! You said your name was Jamie, right? Im Charlotte, great to meet well, not really meet, but great to talk to you! The voice at the other end of the line stated gleefully, the crackling and the wind still slightly present in the background.

Same to you, I guess? Just one question though: why the hell are you are calling this pay phone?

Oh, silly me! Here I am just bursting into conversation. Of course youd think this was weird, some unknown girl just calling you up in the middle of the night! Oh, is it night where you are? Its always dark here so I just presume it is everywhere.

Yeah, its night.

Ah lucky guess! Well I didnt really know who I was calling, I just pressed this EMERGENCY button on this pay phone on my end and here I am talking with you!

Wait, you said emergency? Are you ok? Do you need help?

A little bit, yeah.

Whats wrong?

Im dead.

My night just got interesting.

Like are you meaning the slang-word-Instagram-hashtag-Starbucks-drinking-white-girl kind of dead from LOLz, or literally dead as in your heart has stopped beating?