Texts From Unknown

I read your story, "A Perfect Murder", vague in details but thick with ideas. Did you really think I wouldn't have read it? Did you think I couldn't figure out it is me you are talking about? That it is me you want to kill and be able to get away with it? Well now that I know, what are you going to do? Roomie.

This was a text message I received on my phone only a few hours after I posted my fictional story. I'm not going to lie it gave me a start, especially the "roomie" part. I don't have a roommate and the last roommate I had was over a decade ago! We haven't kept in touch and I have no idea where they live or what they've been doing. I promise you all of my stories are fictional and do not depict any specific person. I'm a writer just sending my thoughts out there with a few twists in the hope to increase my following and money income.

With the cost of everything going up, we could all use a little extra cash. The message came from "unknown" and normally I'd ignore it or think it was a wrong number but to call my story out by name gives me pause. I haven't responded and don't intend to.

Ha! Ignoring me won't make me go away. Especially when you are posting about it online. You can be so ignorant, any wonder we don't see eye to eye. Keep playing dumb as if you don't know who this is, and if you have truly forgotten soon you will remember.

This second message really caught my breath. I'm being truthful when I say I have no idea who this person is or what they want. For me to remember them? Why? The story has nothing to do with anyone?!? So this time I am going to respond. I have to know who this could possibly be.

Whoever this is, I think you have me confused with someone else. My story is 100% fictional. Any belief to the contrary was in error. You said "roomie". I haven't had a roommate in years, please stop texting me. You have the wrong person.

The response wasn't instant, it took some time but as soon as I heard my phone chirp I walked over immediately and in bold letters, the word "unknown" filled my screen. My heart began to race and my palms became clammy. Butterflies in my stomach started to turn. As I picked up my phone with shaky hands I read, tsk, tsk, tsk. As always you disappointment me and I shouldn't be surprised but even now, years later, it still hurts when you deny knowing me.

You take the word "roomie" to literally. We are one person not two, you are me and I am you. We're not twins but we're soul mates who depend on each other to survive. You can't kill me even if you wanted to so stop writing out your fantasies and live with the notion that we will never, ever be apart.

Can anyone else say, stalker? But that doesn't make it any less frightening or obvious. I live a very quiet life both as an artist and a career seasonal employee. No one I meet is ever around long enough before the season is over and we've gone our own ways. I don't want to kill anyone or even see anyone hurt. Whoever this is why don't they understand that? Why harass me and scare me? WHO THE HELL IS THIS?!?

Stop texting me before I call the police and report you for stalking and harassment. My story is fictional and you need help to get this obsession of me wanting you dead out of your head. Please stop!!!

Calling the police won't do you any good. I'm not a stalker and I'm not obsessed, just merely pointing out the facts. Besides all the police will do is lock YOU up and we both know you don't do well in small places.

Why would the police lock me up? I have the proof right here in my phone that you are harassing me.

True. But did you bother to look beyond the "unknown" title on your phone? If the number isn't recognized the phone would only show the number, number blocked, or possible spam. Not "unknown".

I don't understand. Who are you?

I'm you.

My breath catches, my hands tremble, and I can't breathe. This isn't happening, this isn't true. I quickly click on the incoming messages and the name "unknown" and as the number flashes on my screen, my eyes widen and the phone slips from my shaking hand.

The cell phone number is mine. I've been texting myself the whole time...

I told you we were soulmates.