literature

The Phone Call

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Literature Text

Suddenly the phone went dead. I stood listening to the dull, electronic tone before taking the receiver away from my ear and staring at it in silent thought for a moment, the familiar sense of dread and anxiety reappearing.

I had been getting these ‘blank’ phone calls for a couple of weeks now, and the hopeful idea that it was just a childish prank was fading every time. Who would be fool enough to carry on something like this for longer than a month?

I placed the phone back on its stand and walked to the kitchen where my Aunt was washing the dishes. I slumped onto a chair at the dining table and looked up at her.

“Who was it, Sara, love?” she asked cheerily, not turning around from the sink. The sun shone through the window, creating an almost angelic glow around her – a reflection of her personality. She had been the first to offer to be my legal guardian when my mother and father passed away in that awful car accident all those years ago, leaving a lonely five year old daughter behind. Aunt Sue had lost her brother that fateful day, yet she was still strong enough to take me in and bring me up - as well as any mother would - for nine whole years. I don’t think I would ever be able to express to her how grateful I actually was.

I thought carefully of how to answer her question. Would I carry on like I had previously and just reply with a, “Wrong number” or “It was just a friend”, or would I tell the truth this time and explain the whole situation? I decided to go with the first option, because as much as I would really have liked to tell her, I honestly didn’t see the point. What could she have done to stop it? All it would have done was worry her. “Oh, it was just a wrong number,” I said.

“What? Again?” Aunt Sue questioned, “How many times has this happened now? And every time they ask for a ‘Sara’ as well! How strange!”

She may have thought it was some funny coincidence but that was the thing that worried me the most. Whenever the phone rang and Aunt Sue answered, the mystery caller would always ask for Sara, but when I came on they would never say a word and would put the phone down a few seconds later. I had always been too freaked out to try and say something to them, but as I lay in my bed later that evening, it started to dawn on me that maybe that was the way to go. If I ever wanted to solve this problem I had to try and get them to talk.

I fell asleep that night with many plans running through my mind. Maybe I could demand a name? Threaten them by saying I would involve the police? Or try and freak them out by taking a leaf out of their book and saying nothing at all? They were all possibilities, but would any of them actually work?

The next day was Saturday and I awoke late morning to the sound of thunder. My room was unusually dark for eleven o’clock in the morning, with the very little light there was outside struggling to find its way through the filter of my curtains. I lay quietly in my bed for a few moments, actually quite excited by the realisation that I may finally solve the phone call problem after all this time. I felt pretty stupid for not thinking of doing something earlier, but I guess I just thought it would eventually stop by itself.

I jumped out of bed and threw some clothes on. I bounded down the stairs, got myself a bowl of cereal and joined Aunt Sue in the living room. She sat on the sofa next to me staring at me strangely.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing, love. You just seem a bit happier than you have these past couple of weeks, which I find rather surprising considering the awful weather outside,” she replied.

“Well, would you rather I was sad then?” I joked.

Aunt Sue smiled, “Of course I wouldn’t! It’s nice to see you back to your old self.”

I smiled back at her and carried on eating my cereal. The truth was I was happier than I had been those past couple of weeks. The frequent phone calls had become all I could think of and my obsession with them was starting to tear me apart. Now that I felt like I had the confidence to do something about it, I naturally felt a lot more upbeat. All I had to do now was wait for the call, which came later that afternoon.

“Sara! It’s for you!” I heard Aunt Sue call from downstairs.

“Okay! I’ll use the phone up here!” I shouted back. I could have easily run down from my room to use the downstairs phone, but I didn’t want her to overhear anything. It would be better to use the cordless one and take it into my bedroom.

It wasn’t until my hand was hovering over the receiver, about to pick it up, that I noticed I was shaking. This was it. I picked up the phone and clenched it tightly by my ear, for fear of dropping it due to shaking so hard. “H-hello?” I said nervously. Silence was my reply. “Hello?” I asked again, a little more firmly. Again, there was silence. Any second they were going to hang up, I had to do something, quick. “Look, is there anybody there? Or are you just going to hang up again because you’re too scared?” Yet again, there was no reply, but when I listened very carefully I could hear the faint sound of gentle breathing. “I can hear you breathing, you know. I know somebody’s there. And whoever is there better say something soon, I’m fed up of your pointless calls. It’s gone beyond a joke now.”

I said nothing else for a few moments. I was surprised the phone call had lasted this long, I thought they would have hung up long ago. But I was even more surprised when I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line and a quiet voice ask, “Hello? Are you still there?”

I felt my heart skip a beat at the sound of their voice. “Erm, yes. I am still here. Can I ask w-who’s speaking p-please?” I tried to keep my voice level in order to sound brave, but when I heard the words leave my mouth I knew I sounded as nervous as I felt on the inside.

The mystery caller hesitated before saying, “Er, look. This isn’t easy for me. I’ve been calling you for weeks now, Sara, and until now have never had the courage to actually speak to you. It’s rather silly when I think about it actually…”

They carried on rambling down the phone at me but I wasn’t listening anymore. My own thoughts were louder than their voice.
I noticed that they had not actually answered my question of who they were but had instead gone into the agitated mumblings I was hearing now. The person was male - their deep, yet strangely friendly voice had proven that. And they sounded like an adult, rather than someone my own age for instance, so that ruled out the theory that it was a stupid, teenage prank.

An awful thought suddenly came over me. I had watched the news enough times to know about the horrible things some people could do. What if this man was one of those monsters? He knew my name, that’s for sure. What else did he know? Had he been watching me? All these weeks could he have been watching my every move? My whole body shuddered at the terrifying image of a dark, suspicious figure shadowing me throughout my daily routine.

Enough was enough. Now I was truly scared. I was still shaking like a leaf (if not more than I was earlier) and I just wanted it to all be over. I leapt off of my bed and started to pace up and down the room.

“Who are you? How do you know my name? How do you know this phone number? What have you been doing calling me every single day these past few weeks?” I exploded, “Do you want me to call the police? ‘Cause that’s what I’ll do! I’ll call them if you…”

“Whoa! Calm down!” the man shushed me.

I noticed I had begun to sob and a steady flow of tears were rolling down my cheeks like a cascading waterfall.

“Shhh. Please. Stop crying. This isn’t what I wanted,” he pleaded.

“Well what did you want?!”

“I-I can’t say now. It wouldn’t feel right. I really need to see you in person, Sara…”

My eyes practically popped out of my head, “You what?! Do you seriously think I would meet a stranger like you?! Do you think I’m completely stupid?”

I heard him sigh like he knew I was going to say that. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “but we can meet in a busy public place, out in the open. You can even bring an adult with you. I just need to see you. Please.”

My body was telling me that it would be utterly insane to go and meet someone I don’t even know (especially this someone I don’t even know), but my heart and mind were very curious and I knew if I didn’t go I would definitely regret it some time in the future.

“Okay,” I sniffed, my eyes finally starting to dry up, “I’ll meet you tomorrow right outside the shopping centre in town at 1pm. And I’m bringing someone with me.”
This was a piece of coursework (I think) for English that I wrote last year. We were given a choice of titles, starting sentences and finishing sentences and had to write a story using one of them.

It's not the best thing in the world but thought I'd submit it anyway :XD:. And as you can tell, it doesn't have an ending. I actually wrote one in my english book but, while the actual idea wasn't at all bad (thanks to Becky for the idea in the first place!), I struggled with writing it and it turned out to be really quite weak.

So, who do YOU think the mystery phone caller is? Actually, it'd be pretty fan-dabby-doozy if someone could write an ending for this, but I doubt anyone actually would! So just ignore me ;)

Anyway, I've rambled on too long. I got a grade B for the completed thing.
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shocking-revelation's avatar
We keep getting blank calls from a number in Sheffield. Kinda annoying... :XD: