Cell...A short story Horror/Suspense by Michael Kelso
Rated PG for violence
Chapter 1 preview
“Operator…How may I help you?”
“I need you to give me the number of the phone I am calling from!” Said a man’s desperate voice.
“I’m sorry sir, I cannot give you that information.”
“BUT IT’S MY FREAKIN’ PHONE !!” He screamed back.
“I’m sorry sir, if you continue in this manner, I will have to give this number to the police.”
“Fine, give it to the cops, just give it to me first!”
Loud thumps could be heard in the background.
“Please, I need this number. It‘s an emergency.” He said, almost pleading.
The operator paused.
“585-7734”
“Thank you.”
Long before this desperate call took place, there was a young man with a simple wish. His name was Tony. Like other lower-middle class teenagers, Tony had problems. His biggest problem was money, he didn’t have any. At 6’2”, he was tall for his age, but thin. He got his jet black hair from his father. Surprising, seeing that his mother was a natural blonde. He wore old, hand me down, jeans that were two sizes too big for him, because that’s all he had. But with the way fashions went, he was actually in style, at least for the moment. That sort of thing never concerned Tony anyway. The problem that weighed most on his mind, was that he was the only one in his class who didn’t have a cell phone. He had begged his parents for one, and they wanted to get him one, but they just couldn’t afford it. So, a determined Tony had gone to the local gas station and talked the owner into giving him a part time job. Tony’s best friend, Zeke, was about as different from Tony as humanly possible. He was nearly a foot shorter than Tony, with bright red hair and a chubby build. Physically they were the odd couple. They met in first grade, when Zeke first moved to town and had no friends. Tony had been the first one to talk to him at school, and they had been best friends ever since. Zeke had told him it not to worry about having a cell phone, that they were overrated, but he was interrupted when he got a call on his own cell. Tony was excited when he first started working, but soon found out that it was a boring, thankless job. After two weeks of working almost every night, he finally got his first paycheck. He tore open the envelope, nearly ripping the check. Reading the numbers, his face fell.
“Umm…Mr. Haskins, there seems to be a mistake.” Tony said.
“My check should be a lot more than this.”
Mr. Haskins patiently took the check and looked it over.
“No, that’s right for the hours you worked.” He said, handing the check back to Tony.
“But what are all these numbers over here?”
“Those are deductions.”
Tony looked at him blankly.
“You mean people are taking my money before I even get it?”
Mr. Haskins laughed.
“Welcome to the real world kid. Didn’t you think you’d have to pay taxes?”
“Taxes, yes. But what is FICA? And why is he taking so much of my money?” Tony said, distressed.
Mr. Haskins laughed even harder.
“Don’t worry kid, you’ll get some of that back in about fifty years.”
The look of horror on Tony’s face made Mr. Haskins go into fits of laughter. He had to walk away just to be able to breathe again.
Tony stared at the check all the way home.
‘This won’t even cover a down payment.’ He thought. ‘I’m gonna be working for a month just to get my phone, let alone keep it.’ He fell asleep with visions of tiny cell phones dancing through his head.
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