“Vibration”

bzz. bzz.

“Where the hell is that damn phone?” Alison cursed as she clumsily tossed around the pillows on her coach. After sum fuss, she located the cell phone between the couch cushions.

“No missed calls. Weird,” she thought to herself as she studied her phone screen. It was almost as if it was sending out a signal to her to find it, as if the couch would swallow it whole like it did loose change and various pieces of jewelry. Alison places the phone on the coffee table and went about her chores.

A few hours later she heard the vibrations of her phone ringing again from the kitchen. She quickly turned the heat down on her stove and ran over to see who was bothering her while she cooked dinner. Once again, there was no call, incoming or missed. She shrugged it off, phantom vibrations were fairly common. A symptom of our overly-connected lives.

Back at the stove she heard it again. This time more distinct than before. She hesitated before going back to check, she wanted to finish making her soup. That’s when it hit her—the phone was in her pocket. Surely she’s feel it if it were ringing.

And, moreover, the volume was on.

She slipped the phone from her pocket to check, just in case. Nothing. But the vibrating noise was clear as day, there was no way it could be in her mind. She considered that maybe her upstairs neighbor’s phone must be going off. She probably dropped it on the floor and left it there on her way out. Satisfied with this theory, she ladled some soup into a bowl and sat down for dinner.

bzz. bzz.

Alison took another sip of soup.

bzzzz. bzzzzzzz.

She hoped her neighbor would get home soon and call back whoever it is that’s trying to reach her.

bzzzzz. bzzzzzzzz.

The vibrations continued intermittently throughout the evening. Finally, she heard her upstairs neighbor’s footsteps right before she went to bed.

“Good. At least that won’t keep going off while I’m trying to sleep.” Alison thought to herself as she lay in bed.

But no such luck. If anything, the vibrations sounded louder. Closer. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore it.

bzzz. bzzzzzzz.

bzzzzzz. bzzzzzz.

bzzzzzzzzz. bzzzzzzzz.

“Stop calling me. I’m busy,” a man’s voice whispered.

Finally someone answered the damn phone. And Alison finally figured out where it was coming from.

He was inside her bedroom closet.