Phone Call: Short Story

“Tell me who it is?”

I’m trying to figure out the voice of the caller. He sounds agitated, it’s late and I’m home alone.  “I think you have the wrong number.” I answer.

“You’re Jessica right?” The man fires back.

“Yes,” I hedge. My body begins to tingle, how does this man know my name?

“Tell me who did it? You know who, I need their name.” Scorn drips from his tone.

This guy sounds so angry. I still have no clue what he means. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you don’t tell me, I’m going to come and wring the answer out of you!” He threatens.

I hang up the phone and toss it on my bed. What a weirdo. I shake off the jitters and enter the living room to heat up a cup of tea.


My heart jumps in my throat. Nobody lives around me for miles, who the hell is knocking on my door this late?  I bolt to the bedroom to call 911, just when I reach for my phone there’s another call. It’s his number again.

Author note: This story is based off a nightmare I had. Thought I’d turn it into something useful because this dream scared the hell out of me. There may be a part 2 to this. 


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