The Call

I got a strange phone call last night. At first, I thought it was just a wrong number, but when I answered, the voice on the other end sounded... off.

It wasn’t the usual robotic tone you get with spam calls. No, this was different. The voice was shaky, like the person was nervous or scared. It said my name, and then, it just started repeating it.

“Sarah... Sarah... Sarah...”

It sounded like it was coming from far away, but somehow, it was still clear enough to send chills down my spine. I didn’t say anything at first. I just listened.

The voice continued. “I’m watching you.”

I felt my heart race. My first thought was to hang up, but something kept me there, listening. The voice didn’t sound like anyone I knew. It didn’t sound familiar at all, but it also didn’t sound completely strange. It was just... wrong.

“I see you,” it whispered. “You’re not alone.”

I froze. I looked around my apartment, but it was empty. There was no one here. I had locked the door. It was just me and the silence.

Then, the voice spoke again. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t just my name. It started saying things about my life. Little things. Things no one would know.

“Your keys are on the kitchen counter,” the voice said, as if it was looking right at them.

I turned toward the kitchen, and sure enough, my keys were lying on the counter. I wasn’t sure what to do. I felt a pit form in my stomach.

“I can hear you breathe,” it whispered next. “I can hear everything.”

I could feel my breath catching in my chest. I wasn’t sure whether to hang up or call the police, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. The voice kept going, getting more intense.

“I can see your phone, Sarah. I know where you are. You can’t hide from me.”

Then, the line went dead.

I stared at my phone, feeling my hands shake. I didn’t know what to think. Was it a prank? Was someone playing a sick joke on me? Or was it something worse? I wasn’t sure.

I decided to go to bed and try to forget about it. But when I lay down, I noticed something.

My phone had started ringing again. The same number. I didn’t answer.

The voice from the night before echoed in my head: “I can hear everything.”

I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone in my own apartment. That someone, or something, was still here with me. Watching me.

And I’m not sure if it’s gone. Because every time I pick up my phone now, it’s always the same number calling. And I can never seem to stop listening.