My mobile rings and wakes me up. Aggravated, and pondering what idiot was calling me so early – probably some drunk twerp with the wrong number – I pick up my phone to see who’s calling me.
My daughter’s number. I sit up, perplexed, and try to conjure an explanation. But a pang of worry hits me. I’ve seen too many movies involving these situations, and I quickly become paranoid.
Thinking logically – No one, in their right mind, would call at this hour. If, for example, someone had found a misplaced phone, and was /sensible/ enough to want to return it, they’d surely be calling at a /sensible/ time.
I slip my mobile into my bed-short’s back pocket, meanwhile hastily making my way downstairs and towards her room, partying a baseball bat on the way – just in case. My hand lands on the handle and I hesitate for no longer than a second as I barge into her room.
She’s in bed, sleeping peacefully. Nothing /seems/ out of place.
Her serene expression comforts my scattered thoughts and calms my racing heart. But seconds later, my mobile rings again. I quickly reach for it and answer in a hushed but clearly angered tone, ”Who is this??”
And from the other line my daughter’s voice answers clear as day;
”Hello, Daddy! I’m Dead!”
Credit To – GK
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