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3:45pm

3:45 pm, September 9th

“Hello? I need help! My window and laptop were shot by a sniper only a few minutes ago! And before that, I was sent death threats by this same person! ” I was getting frantic.

The 911 operator on the other side replied, “Okay, take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?”

I breathed deeply, and a little bit of the panic left. But it came back immediately when the operator started talking again.

“Now, what happened?”

“Somebody wants to kill me! They’ve been sending me creepy messages and then they just shot my laptop and my window! I don’t know why they want to kill me!”

“I’m going to send somebody over, but until they get there I need you to try and calm down. Panicking won’t accomplish anything except hasty and unwise decisions. And don’t go anywhere. A police officer will be over soon.”

“Okay, okay.” I breathed heavily again.

“Good, good. Now, what is your name?”

“Chase Mitchels.” My breath still came in short bursts.

“Alright Chase. Where do you live?”

“45 Copper Lane.”

 “Chase, Sergeant Detective Michael Daniels will be there in a few minutes. Is anybody else there with you?” 

“No, it’s just me.” Saying that reminded me I was alone. Fear crept in.

“Just hang on until Detective Daniels gets there. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Excellent. It won’t be long.”

“Thank you.”

The operator kept talking, but I hung up. I knew they usually preferred to keep the caller on the phone, but I didn’t want to talk. Instead, I collapsed in a chair.

Before I could exhale, my cell phone rang. The sound of my ringtone surprised me, and my body jerked in shock. If it was possible, my heartbeat quickened. I pulled out my phone and looked at the number. It was restricted. I dropped it on the floor and let it ring. Eventually it stopped. Silence.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I wouldn’t have to wait long, I told myself. Daniels would be here soon, and then they would find who was doing this and I could stop worrying.

My phone buzzed on the floor. I leaned forward and looked at the screen. A new text message. I scooped up my phone and searched for the number. It said, “Restricted”. Against my better judgment, I opened the text message. Three simple words glowed at me.

“Answer your phone.”

I deleted it instantly, and immediately regretted it. I should’ve kept it for evidence, maybe the police could’ve tracked or traced it. Dang it! I wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

I didn’t have long to dwell on it though, because my phone rang again. Restricted number. I held it in my quivering hand, and slowly answered.

“Hello?” My voiced shook.

A pause. Then a deep marbled male voice, masked by a disguise. “Ah, hello Chase. So nice to finally talk to you. How have you been? Not that I really care.”

“Who are you?!”

“Oh but Chase, you’ve already asked that! Be original! Ask me why I’m doing this. Ask me why I chose you. Ask me how I’m going to kill you. Because those are the questions that you really want to know.”