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Just a Phone Call Away

My heart was pounding, as I reached for the phone, the same conversation occurred only this time it was different. Images kept flashing in my mind, bright and vivid. There, a thin and bony hand dangled a thin grey string. The other held a pair of newly sharpened, red handled scissors. Slowly she reached farther, farther, and then finally. SNIP! The string was cut. I felt a sharp pain in my heart, then I wake up.

I kept having this dream, starting when I was three. I remember running as fast as my little legs could carry me, into my parents room, nestling between them. The next time I had the dream I was eight, on a camping trip with my father. After screaming for thirty minutes straight we had to come home. Then now, present day, thirteen years of age. I was now old enough to accept it. I knew it would never come true… but I was wrong.

The sound of my alarm clock awakened me. I forced myself out of bed and approached my window, wondering what all the racket was about. I yanked open my curtains and groaned. It was raining. Hard. Dozens of drops pummeled the bare ground, killing whatever lurked in its path. Drops raced down the window and fogged up its cloudy and dirty surface. Distracted by my task, I continued to what I was doing. As I pulled on my warm crocheted sweater, a chill ran down my spine. Today felt different and in a way… uncomfortable.

When I arrived downstairs I poured myself a tall glass of milk and a dry bowl of Minnie wheats. Condensation wet my glass leaking on the wooden table. It left me with yet another stain I had to explain to my mother. My dad was no longer around; he left us when I was eight, right after the dream. He didn’t say why or where he was going he simply just left.



Just as I was about to take a big bite of my cereal, I was interrupted by a phone ring.
“Hello!” I answered.
“Is this Victoria?” A raspy voice on the other end answered.
“Yes… May I ask whom I am speaking with?” I questioned, wondering who she was and how she knew my name.
“Where are you little girl?” She said.
There was a long pause on the other end. I could tell what was coming next. Now terrified, I was repeating the familiar script in my head. What happened next though? I ALWAYS WAKE UP!
She continued but this time yelling,
“Tell me where you are!”

Now pale, I dropped the phone. It was finally happening. Everything I had feared, happening.

My mom rushed to my side and asked me what happened. I was speechless. My heart felt as if it were pounding right out of my chest. Every noise around me seemed silent. I couldn’t hear anything but my heart beating, and the lady’s voice. Why me? The phone rung once again. It seemed at least ten times louder, startling me each time within every ring.
“NO!” I screamed to my mom.
“Please! Don’t answer it!”



She ignored me and picked up the phone anyway. She heard nothing. Out of curiosity, I pressed my ear to the metal speaker. I heard whispers. Then out of nowhere, a scream. I dropped the phone in horror and started sobbing. The scream kept ringing in my ears. I tried plugging them with my fingers but all seemed hopeless. No matter how hard I tried the scream wouldn’t stop.
“What is it? Why are you acting so strange?” My mom asked.
“WHY DON’T YOU HEAR IT?” I shouted with fury. My ears rang with pain. I managed to reach over and throw the phone back on the receiver. It was silent as death. The death I feared, the death I never wanted to happen.
“What in the world was that all about?” She yelled to me.

I was curled in a ball, rocking back and forth, trying to comfort and calm myself. Why hadn’t she heard the scream? Why was I the only one that heard and felt the pain?

That night I lay by the fireplace, warming my back from all the chills. I kept trying to convince myself that all that occurred this morning was not real. Nothing helped. My life seemed over.

After getting tucked in, yet another surprise seemed to haunt me. I heard whispers in my head. They were quiet at first but soon enough it became clear to what they were saying.
“Crawl out of bed…” They told me. “Do it or I’ll cut the string.” I refused.




I hid under my covers just waiting for a miracle to happen. Before I could tell what was happening next, my legs started moving. They bent and I was standing on my plush carpet. They started walking. What was happening to me?

I tried holding onto the frame of my bed but my grip was not strong enough. The cold metal bars, now slippery with sweat, slipped beneath my fingers. The whispers got louder with every step I took. I couldn’t control myself.
“Help!” I screamed.
“Someone! Please help me!” I was crying. And then just as it was in my dream, a pain shot into my heart. Unconscious of what was happening; I dropped to the floor. I was unable to move.

I tried to process what was happening to me but my brain just wouldn’t work. My legs had a cold and numb feeling to them. They wouldn’t move. The tips of my fingertips were tingled. I tilted my head to the side and saw a dark red liquid leaking out of something. Was it me? Or was I just hallucinating? Blurry images of a chair flashed back at me. It was a rocking chair. The last thing I saw was my mother’s bare ankles rushing towards me. A phone rang in the distance. I wanted to stop her from answering it but all that managed to escape from my lips was a squeak. Then in a flash before me, everything was gone.

The world around me was unfamiliar. I didn’t know how I got here or why I even was here. I couldn’t see anything around me. The room was pitch black. I rubbed my eyes with fists of anger. It was still dark. Finally thinking, I reached toward my watch. There was a button I clicked that lit up the whole room. The room had black walls and cold, square tiles. I stretched my neck forward, making sure what I saw was real. In front of me was a wooden rocking chair. Everything was just as I imagined, Death. The chair rocked back and forth, back and forth, making a creeakk each time it hit the floor. I was not alone.

“I tried to warn you…” the voice said.

It was the same voice from the phone. It was the voice from my head, and worst of all, my dreaded and hated dreams.
“Who are you?” I managed to say in a shaky tone.
“You KNOW who I am.”
She stood up and slowly turned her black and matted haired head around. She resembled someone that I knew, maybe someone I had seen before. Her face had deep wrinkles carved into it and her eyes glowed with an eerie greenish color. She walked towards me, holding the same string in her bony fingers, a pair of scissors in the other. Her nails seemed to be going in loops, they were so long. She circled around me and whispered a few words in an ancient language I didn’t know. I felt her cold breath on the back of my neck. She had a strange odor to her that made me gasp for air. My eyes watered. Every hair on my arm stood up.
When she came back around in front of me she was still whispering.
“Oops!” She said, followed by a SNIP! She cut the string.

I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. She cut it once again. Another pain darted through my other leg. My legs buckled before me and felt like putty. I fell forward, landing on my face. My forehead felt cold. I realized it was the tile I was laying on.
“What do you want from me!?” I screamed in agony.
“You KNOW what I want from you.” She repeated.


She walked over to a rocking chair and picked up a red phone, dangling the red cord from her fingers. I heard the faint noise of a dial tone, then keys clicking. Still sobbing, I crawled over to a corner, grasping my ankle. The room was completely silent.

I head sobbing on the other end of the phone. Who did she call?
“Please, just let her go, I don’t know what you want! I’ll do anything! Please, she is too young…” The sobbing continued.

I watched as the witch’s face became red with anger, starting at her neck, making its way until it touched the peak of her forehead.

“NOOOO!” She darted forth at me, hands reaching forward.

Just as her waxy nails touched my cheek, I woke up. When I opened my eyes I was surrounded by a group of EMT’s. One with white hair yelled out, “She’s Awake! We did it!” I felt dizzy. Still lying on the warm carpet in my hallway, my mom towered over me. I was in so much pain. Both of my legs felt broken. I wanted to lie here, and die here. I didn’t want to suffer any more of this torture. I forced myself to move. I sat my elbows up on the luscious carpet, expecting a hug, a kiss, a YOUR AWAKE! But nothing. After the paramedics left, my mom came and sat down next to me. The phone rang and she started to cry.
“I talked to her,” she managed to say. “She said that… now… it’s my turn…” She muttered.

END OF PART 1



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