It started about seven months ago when my phone rang and the caller ID read “Maria Avery”. I didn’t know the name and ignored it, figuring it was a wrong number. When my phone rang again, I picked it up. Before I could even say hello I heard beeping. Not the sort of automated beeping that comes with spam calls, no this sounded somewhat distant, happening in the background. There was breathing, heavy and laboured, and I thought it might just be some creep or a prank call.
Then I heard another voice.
“I love you, mom…” she was speaking through her tears.
I hung up immediately, thinking maybe it had been a pocket dial. The call sent a shiver down my spine, an uneasy feeling building in my gut. I went to text my friend about it, when my screen lit up again.
Maria Avery.
I denied the call. She called again. This time, when I went to click deny, my phone answered anyway. Not only that, but it put itself on speaker. The crying was still soft, the breathing more staggered. The beeping was slowing down and eventually, there was one long drawn out beep. I realized later that was a heart monitor.
The experience freaked me out. When I called my service provider to tell them what happened, I realized the name wasn’t in my call history, and they claimed they couldn’t help me. I could hear their doubt when I told the story, could practically imagine a roll of their eyes. There was nothing to be done, and I figured that it must have been some sick prank. It didn’t account for my phone picking up automatically, but I reasoned that maybe my finger had slipped. I tried to forget it and get on with my life.
I had forgotten. Until a week later when my phone rang.
The name this time was Jake Austin. When I picked up this time, I didn’t even get the chance to say hello before I heard a car screeching in a desperate attempt to halt, and a thud against the metal hood. When the body hit the pavement I could clearly hear a sickening snap and a crack of what must have been his skull against hard concrete.
I was petrified. The line went dead and I immediately tried to figure out what happened. Surprise surprise, the phone company didn’t help again, claiming they couldn’t see such a call from my service. This time, I went to get my phone replaced, saying there was an issue. I didn’t explain what it was, just said my phone was accepting calls when I pressed no. I had to pay a fee but they did replace my phone and sent me on my way.
But after the second call I didn’t just forget it. I remembered the first call and googled Maria Avery. After a bit of internet sleuthing I found an obituary. A 56 year old woman died of breast cancer the same day I got my phone call. (A week later I did the same search with Jake Austin. Lo and behold he died at a cross walk the same day of my call)
During this time I’d get more calls. I tried to not answer, but ignoring my phone did nothing as it would pick up automatically, put itself on speaker so I could hear. Turning off my phone or letting it die also didn’t work. I changed my number but it kept happening. No one could help me. My service provider thought it was a joke, didn’t take me seriously, so I switched providers. Still received calls. Changed phone models, didn’t help. The calls always found me.
The police also didn’t help. When I explained what was happening they looked at me like I should be locked up. I tried to prove it to them by staying with my phone until someone called. After several hours they said it was a waste of time. As soon as I got home? I received a call from Jenny Pineda. She was drowning.
(I also tried this with a friend, staying at her house for several days to prove this was happening. When I was with her, no calls. Once I left it was like a floodgate. Five calls in a row, like they had built up while I was gone. I couldn’t record the calls either because any recording became corrupted)
I threw my phone in the river. It would be hard to live without one, but I figured for a couple of days I could rest. The calls were coming daily then, about five months after they started. It worked. For a weekend I was actually at peace…
One thing I didn’t mention, as it was not important to the story until now, is that I work as a secretary. My work phone had always been safe.
Until I threw my cellphone in the river.
The second I sat at my desk after the weekend the phone kept ringing. There was no caller ID but this time, a robotic voice would say the name before starting the message. This was so much worse than normal. Call after call, each more brutal than the last. I heard a woman in a house fire crying for help before succumbing to the smoke, a man shooting himself after a long bought of sobbing. The very worst was a bear tearing into the flesh of a man who was still very much alive. I could hear the muscles being stripped from his ribs before his chest was crushed completely.
I had a breakdown at my desk.
My company said no calls had come through that morning. It was determined I was having some sort of mental break and I was forced into a hospital for a month. At least the calls didn’t return while I was there. How could they? I was always around others and it was clear, no calls would ever be known to anyone other than me.
I was released to my mothers care. I don’t have a cell phone but she has a landline and a computer (where I’ve been writing from)
Anyway, I’ve been sitting by the phone listening to the backlog of all I missed while my mother is at the store. Some are brutal, kids crying for their parents as they pass from some accident, a seemingly homeless man getting murdered by someone looking for a violent thrill. Every last name and sound is engraved in my memory now. I feel numb.
When I sat down with a razor I didn’t think I would actually end my life. But now as I finish typing, I realized the phone is dialling out now. The man on the other line has tried to hang up twice now.
I’m sorry if this man is you. I’ll say hello, so you have a moment of connection before I bleed out on call.