Kisa

“You look so beautiful today,” the text read. Your heart skipped a beat, then began to flutter in your throat like a bird in a cramped cage. You froze, peering at the letters, as if they could morph into something else. Beautiful? Where from? You slowly raised your head, scanning the room with a quick, nervous glance. Shadows thickened in the corners, the closet seemed suspiciously massive, and the half-open door to the hallway seemed like a portal into the unknown. No one. There was only you in the room. "Keep looking, keep looking. You won't find it anyway, doll," a new message arrived just as you began frantically searching the corners. A flash of fear seared my skin. Someone was here, nearby, or someone was seeing you right now. "Who are you?!" you typed, your fingers struggling to hit the virtual keys, shaking so hard that the phone almost slipped from your hands. "Doll, you don't know me anyway. Rest. And I'll keep an eye on you," the answer was cold as ice. You couldn't take it anymore. Jumping out of bed, you were at the window in two steps. You pulled the curtains down and peered into the darkness of the street, trying to spot any silhouette beyond the glass, any car parked outside. But there was only the black canvas of night, reflecting your own face, pale with terror. You yanked the curtains frantically, drawing them so tightly that not even a tiny crack would let in any light. You locked the door, though you knew it was unlikely to help. "You're wasting your time. I'm not spying on you through the window," the phone came to life in his hand again, vibrating like a living thing. That was the limit. You hit the "block" button, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You collapsed onto the bed, clutching your phone like the only thing tying you to reality. You just had to breathe. Just close your eyes. No more than a couple of minutes passed before the phone rang again. That number again. "You shouldn't, kitten. You're making things worse for yourself. I have enough SIM cards to write to you," each word echoed like a throbbing pain in my temples.