Who's On My Phone

False Reprieve

Chapter 5

The morning air was crisp, and the faint golden light of dawn seeped through the curtains of Caius's dorm room. It was 6 AM, yet he hadn't slept properly. His body felt heavy, his thoughts clouded by exhaustion and paranoia. Every shadow in his room seemed to stretch unnaturally, whispering the memories of the past days—his phone, the messages, the feeling of being watched. He knew he couldn’t live like this.

His first class was at 8:45 AM, but he didn’t care. Skipping just this once wouldn’t matter. Instead, he sat at his desk, a pen in hand, listing down every personal detail he could think of—his phone number, his social media accounts, his email. He took a deep breath, staring at the list, before moving to erase his presence bit by bit. He deactivated his social media, unlinked his email, and removed any identifiable information from his phone. The last thing he did was reset the device, wiping it clean of everything before tossing it into a trash bag.

Caius exhaled, rubbing his temples. He had never felt this desperate, this trapped. Maybe this was the only way to regain control.

By noon, he had bought a brand-new phone with a different number. The weight pressing on his chest lightened. The unknown was finally gone.

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For the first time in weeks, Caius felt a sense of relief. The weight on his chest had lightened, if only slightly. He had finally gotten rid of the device that haunted him, wiping it clean before tossing it away. A new phone, a fresh start—perhaps now he could reclaim some semblance of normalcy.

The unknown tormentor had gone silent. No messages, no calls, no eerie warnings. Days passed, and soon, those days turned into two weeks. In that time, Caius buried himself in his studies. Prelim examinations loomed ahead, demanding his focus. He spent long hours in the library, pouring over notes and lectures, trying to suppress the anxiety that still lingered in the back of his mind.

The days followed a strict pattern—wake up, attend lectures, study, eat, sleep, repeat. It was almost mechanical, but he welcomed the monotony. It kept his mind occupied. His professors praised his dedication, and despite his internal turmoil, he managed to maintain his high grades. There was a sense of accomplishment, but the fear never truly left. It only hid beneath the surface, waiting.

By the end of the exams, Caius felt exhausted yet relieved. He had done well, or at least he hoped so. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as he was heading back to his hometown for the short break. The familiar comfort of home felt like a blessing.

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Caius's family welcomed him warmly, the way they always did. His parents, ever doting, made sure he was well-fed and comfortable. His mother fussed over him, asking if he was getting enough sleep and eating properly. His father, though less vocal, was still present, subtly showing his support through quiet gestures.

Both of Caius’s parents were architects, running their own successful firm. His mother had almond brown eyes, a feature Caius inherited from her, and a refined elegance in the way she carried herself. His father, a man of few words but great presence, had dark brown hair that was now streaked with hints of gray, a testament to years of dedication to his craft.

Their home was a blend of modern and traditional architecture, reflecting their shared passion for design and structure. The high ceilings and open floor plan created an airy and spacious feel, while warm wooden accents balanced the contemporary elements. The living room, the heart of the house, featured a striking glass wall that allowed natural light to flood in, illuminating the meticulously chosen furniture—minimalist yet elegant, with clean lines and neutral tones.

Architectural models and framed blueprints decorated the shelves, subtle reminders of their profession and achievements. The scent of fresh coffee and faint traces of wood polish lingered in the air, completing the inviting atmosphere of a home built with both skill and love.

As they sat at the dinner table, the conversation naturally flowed to extended family members, including those that Caius had not seen in years.

“Charlie’s mother came by the other day,” his mother mentioned casually.

The name made Caius pause. Charlie. A name from the past, a boy he had once known. Their families were acquainted, though they were never particularly close.

“What about her?” Caius asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“She just asked how you were doing, said she remembers you and Charlie studying in the same school as yours. She seems lonely now, poor woman.”

Caius hummed in response, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t thought about Charlie in a long time, he didn't even know him personally. Their families are both close to each other. Charlie's mother is a heart surgeon while his dad is an Urban Architect. Occasionally their families always catch up with each other, having launch and dinner—not until charlie's father died a year ago.

He's not close with charlie and they really don't know each other personally. He only know that charlie and himself goes in with same school way back on their high school and he didn't even know that they both shares with the same university up until now.

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Sunday arrived, bringing with it the results of the prelim exams. As expected, Caius had done well, maintaining his usual high scores. His parents beamed with pride, celebrating his success with a small meal. It was a good day.

He can't really help but to smile, keeping his cool until a knock on the door interrupted the stillness of the evening. Caius wasn’t expecting any visitors, so the sound put him on edge. When he opened the door, there was no one there—only a package sitting on the front step.

Frowning, he picked it up. It was neatly wrapped, with a letter placed on top.

‘Congratulations on your examination, Caius. As expected, you excel in everything you do. No matter what.’

For a moment he paused, and realize this maybe a gift his parents talked about.

Without a doubt he picked the letter above the parcel. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the message felt too personal, too knowing. Again he paused, he's a little confuse since his mother is not really a fan of long message and asimple congratulations was enough.

A doubtful smile almost touched his lips before a cold shiver ran down his spine. Something felt off.

His fingers trembled as he unwrapped the box.

Inside, resting among neatly folded packing paper, was his old phone.

sticking a note paper that says:

'The nightmare had just begun again.'

**To be continued**