Skip to content

inphiltrate fiction

my escape from nonfiction

Menu
  • About
Menu

Text

Posted on December 18, 2012 by Philip

Some amount of time ago, I received a text message on my phone from a number I didn’t recognize that plainly said “where are you.” I replied, asking “who is this?” but received no answer.

A week later, the same number texted me again with the same message asking where I was. Confused, I texted back “I don’t know who you are. Who is this?” Once again, my question was not met with a reply.

Six days passed, and I got another message from that number, but it was different. “I know where you are.” I read it a few times before realizing it wreaked of my friend Fred’s idea if a practical joke. He’d probably grabbed a texting app for his phone and gotten a free number to mess with me. Confident that I’d figured out what was going on, I sent a text back that said “And I know where you are.”

I figured Fred would try to have a little more fun with me before ignoring me for a while, but like clockwork, the replies stopped until five days later. “I see you,” it said. It was a little distasteful, but I wasn’t one to let a joke easily bother me, so I sent back “Pervert” and figured I wouldn’t hear from him again for a while.

Four days passed this time before a new message came. “that red dress would look better on the floor.”

With that, I’d had enough. “dude, seriously? Stfu or ill text your brother and tell him to kick your ass. Not cool.” I mean, really? Making a joke like that? But then I stopped, looked down, and realized what was happening.

I was wearing a red dress.

But how? How had Fred known? I hadn’t seem him in weeks. Was he spying on me? I racked my brain for answers. I hadn’t left the house all day since the weather was nasty. I literally hadn’t seen or talked to anyone face to face all day. No one short of a creeper spying through a window could’ve known what I was wearing.

I raced around the house drawing all of the curtains that were open. The front and back doors were locked and deadbolted – this I double checked to make sure.

I pulled up Fred’s contact into on my phone and sent a message to him. “have you been texting me for the last few weeks under a different number? This is serious so please tell me the truth.”

A few minutes later, Fred replied. “I broke my phone a couple weeks ago and just got a new one yesterday, so nope.” He could’ve been lying, but I knew he wasn’t. I don’t know how, but I knew it.

I was still on edge three days later when another message came from the number. “the curtains can’t keep me out.”

That was it. I was done. I closed the text and called the police. Told them I was scared, told them to please hurry. I don’t remember much of that day past that moment. The cops showed up and questioned me. I showed them the texts and admitted that I wasn’t comfortable being alone in my house. I think they asked me if I had any friends or family I could stay with for a while, or at least I assume they asked me something along those lines because I remember saying I’d recently moved here from my hometown that was over four hours away.

I do remember the officer pointing out to me that the texts were coming in a day sooner than the last every time, but I was so terrified that I couldn’t think much about it. I couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel for the next week, so I knew I had to stay in the house.

Despite not replying to the last text, two days later I got another one. “You didn’t wash the dress. Thanks. It smells nice.”

I didn’t need a moment to think. I couldn’t find my red dress. It had been missing since at least the day before I’d called the cops. I grabbed my keys, ran to my car, and drove. Didn’t care about work the next day or that it was 9 PM. I just drove straight to my parents’ house in my hometown. I didn’t even call to tell them. If they weren’t home, I’d stay with Fred and his brother.

I got there at 12:30 since I’d sped the whole way. My parents were awake, and they comforted me for an hour or so after I explained everything.

The next day when my phone alerted me of a text, I was scared to look, but not knowing would’ve been far worse.

“I followed you”

I’m in my parents’ basement right now typing this out. My mom is pacing on the other side of the room while my dad is upstairs with his hunting rifle. As I finished typing half of this up, I got another message.

“you are MINE”

I’m so terrified, I don’t know what to do. My dad called the police, and they’re on their way, but I can’t help but think of the danger I’ve put my parents in.

And still, the texts are becoming more frequent.

“you can’t run and you can’t hide. I will have you one way or the other.”

I have a horrifying feeling that he’s about to make his move.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Posts

  • Statistics
  • Ghost (working title)
  • Iterate
  • 5 – Media
  • 4 – Lab

Recent Comments

  1. Short story I’m working on – inphiltrate nonfiction on Ghost (working title)
  2. My writing projects for the past ~7 months | inphiltrate nonfiction on The Redwoods
  3. My writing projects for the past ~7 months | inphiltrate nonfiction on SASPER (Chapter 1, cyberpunk novel)
  4. My writing projects for the past ~7 months | inphiltrate nonfiction on Tracks
  5. Happy Halloween « inphiltrate nonfiction on The Hallway

Archives

  • May 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2018
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • November 2016
  • January 2016
  • July 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • December 2013
  • February 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • June 2012
  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011

Categories

  • Based on a Song
  • Chapter
  • Cyberpunk
  • Drama
  • Edited – not final
  • Esper Novel
  • Iterate Novel
  • Muse
  • News
  • No Sleep
  • Paranormal
  • Poetry
  • Romance
  • SASPER Novel
  • Short Story
  • Slice of Life
  • Tragedy
  • Untitled Cyberpunk Novel
  • Untitled NoSleep Story (Tracks)
  • Untitled Zane Novel
  • We Put the "Dual" in "Individual"
  • Writing Experiments
© 2023 inphiltrate fiction | Powered by Superbs Personal Blog theme