THE WARNING
910 Words
I stared at the message.
Don't look outside again.
For a few seconds, I didn't even know what to do.
Then I slowly stepped away from the window.
My heart was still beating way too fast.
I looked at the curtains.
They were still open.
I wanted to close them.
At the same time, I didn't want to go anywhere near the window again.
So I just stood there.
Like an i***t.
My phone was still in my hand.
I looked at the number.
Unknown.
I typed:
Who is this?
I stared at the message before sending it.
Then I pressed send.
Delivered.
I waited.
Nothing.
I looked back toward the window.
The man was still there.
At least, I thought he was.
I couldn't see him anymore.
I immediately pulled the curtains shut.
"Nope."
I backed away from the window.
I didn't care who that person was.
I wasn't looking again.
I walked back to my bed and sat down.
My brain wouldn't stop going over everything that had just happened.
Evan's call.
His voice.
The man outside.
The message.
None of it made sense.
I picked up my phone again.
His contact was still there.
Evan Carter.
I opened it.
His old profile picture was still there.
Evan smiling at the camera like he didn't have a care in the world.
I stared at it.
I hadn't deleted his number.
I don't know why.
Maybe I couldn't.
Maybe some part of me had always thought deleting it would make everything feel too real.
I clicked on our messages.
The last message he'd ever sent me was still there.
We need to talk tomorrow. It's important.
I had replied:
Okay. About what?
He never answered.
Because he died that night.
My phone buzzed.
My hand shook as I picked it up.
Unknown number.
You shouldn't have answered the phone.
I stared at the words.
Another message appeared.
Now they know you're involved.
My stomach dropped.
I quickly typed:
Involved in what?
Then another message.
Who are "they"?
I stared at the screen, waiting.
The typing bubble appeared.
Then disappeared.
Nothing.
I frowned.
I wasn't letting this person get away that easily.
I typed again.
What did Evan find out?
I waited.
Nothing.
I sent another message.
What am I involved in?
Still nothing.
My grip tightened around my phone.
I was starting to get annoyed.
If this person knew something about Evan, then why were they playing games with me?
I typed one last message.
Who are you?
The typing bubble appeared.
My heart jumped.
Then it disappeared.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.
I looked down.
There was only one message.
Check Evan's old jacket.
I stared at it.
That was it.
No explanation.
No name.
No answer to anything I'd asked.
Just the jacket.
I knew exactly which one they meant.
The black one.
The jacket Evan practically lived in.
I hadn't seen it since his funeral.
My stomach tightened.
Why would they want me to check it?
And what exactly did they think I'd find?
I sat there for a moment.
Then I got up.
I wasn't sure whether I was being incredibly stupid or incredibly brave.
Probably stupid.
I walked toward my closet.
The jacket was still there.
Folded inside a box at the back.
I pulled the box out.
My hands were still shaking as I opened it.
And there it was.
Evan's black jacket.
Exactly where I'd left it.
I picked it up.
It still smelled faintly like his cologne.
For a second, I forgot about the messages.
Forgot about the person outside.
Forgot about everything.
It just felt like Evan.
Then I remembered why I was holding it.
I reached into the first pocket.
Nothing.
Second pocket.
Nothing.
I turned it over.
There was one more pocket on the inside.
I hesitated.
Then I reached inside.
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