At 3:13pm I received a blank text message from an unspecified number.
[draft]
was all it read. Naturally I thought nothing of it and continued on with my day. At 6:26pm I received an identical text message. Unusual, no doubt, but I paid no attention. Then again at 9:39, but this time I was considerably more curious. I opened the text's information menu and found that the text was from a three digit number.
313
"What the hell." I sent a text to 313 simply asking
"what"
I received no response. At 3:13am I was awakened by a obnoxious buzzing beside my ear. My phone. There was another text from an unspecified number. But this time it was a picture message. I opened it and was greeted with a photo of Lyndon Johnson. I had never seen this particular photo of him before, and was intrigued. Someone I didn't know sent me a picture of LBJ. I needed to know who was sending me this and why. I replied with
"why lbj"
Immediately my phone buzzed with another message. I opened it to find another photo of LBJ, but it was different. It was a high resolution shot of the back of his head. I set my phone down and stared at the ceiling. My breathing was quick and short, but incredibly quiet. More than anything I wanted to sleep, but because of what I'd seen, that seemed unlikely.
A knock at the door.
I stopped breathing. My eyes darted around in the darkness.
Another knock, followed by the sound of someone sliding the palm of their hand all the way down the door. Three knocks, and sliding from top to bottom. I slipped out of the sheets and hid underneath my bead. I had no other option. Loud knocking, and a hand sliding down the door, periodically slapping it. I was horrified.
Silence soon followed. My pathetic body was trembling on the ground, not knowing what to do next. I must have laid there for fifteen minutes, but I did not hear any more knocking or any footsteps. Outside the door, a deep voice broke the silence.
"I'm going to come in now."
I froze. It was a southern accent.
The doorknob slowly rotated allowing the door to creak open. I couldn't see in the darkness, but I could make out the shape of an incredibly tall man as he entered the room. His footsteps were silent, but his irregular breathing was not. Fear overtook me, I could not move. He took three steps and was standing at the foot of my bed. I thought about making a break for the door. I hesitated, and felt a massive hand grab my shoulder. With incredible strength the man pulled me from under the bed and slammed me into my dresser. I could barely see but he seemed at least two heads taller than me. His hands grabbed me again and threw me on the ground. The ungraceful fall knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to regain my breath. Slowly he crouched down and squatted beside me. I looked up and saw something strange. He was wearing a mask. It was a cheap plastic mask, the kind a child would wear at Halloween, but it was unlike any I had seen before. It was of LBJ.
Behind the plastic face his breathing was more uneven than ever, between desperate breaths he spoke to me. "Do you remember me?" He stopped to let in a few labored breaths. "Do you remember me?"
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what was going on. I replied honestly, "N-no."
He placed his right hand over my face and just pushed down. Lightly at first but then with sudden strength, and he groaned as he did so. It hurt immensely. He let up and started speaking again, but his words were muffled by his mask. His words were strikingly calm. I noticed a glint of light by the mask's eyehole. What was it? He pushed again.
His pushing was considerably harder, and the pain was unbearable. I started to gag involuntarily. I had an animal urge to scream "MOM! HELP ME!" but it was drowned out in the squabble. He would stop breathing for ten seconds and then abruptly start again. I was losing my energy in the struggle, and my flailing arms had knocked into the bed's legs several times. He slowly brought his masked face down in front of mine. I felt a lone drop of water fall onto my face. It was a tear.
I noticed it now, he was crying. He groaned and began to push down on my face again, harder than ever.
[draft]
was all it read. Naturally I thought nothing of it and continued on with my day. At 6:26pm I received an identical text message. Unusual, no doubt, but I paid no attention. Then again at 9:39, but this time I was considerably more curious. I opened the text's information menu and found that the text was from a three digit number.
313
"What the hell." I sent a text to 313 simply asking
"what"
I received no response. At 3:13am I was awakened by a obnoxious buzzing beside my ear. My phone. There was another text from an unspecified number. But this time it was a picture message. I opened it and was greeted with a photo of Lyndon Johnson. I had never seen this particular photo of him before, and was intrigued. Someone I didn't know sent me a picture of LBJ. I needed to know who was sending me this and why. I replied with
"why lbj"
Immediately my phone buzzed with another message. I opened it to find another photo of LBJ, but it was different. It was a high resolution shot of the back of his head. I set my phone down and stared at the ceiling. My breathing was quick and short, but incredibly quiet. More than anything I wanted to sleep, but because of what I'd seen, that seemed unlikely.
A knock at the door.
I stopped breathing. My eyes darted around in the darkness.
Another knock, followed by the sound of someone sliding the palm of their hand all the way down the door. Three knocks, and sliding from top to bottom. I slipped out of the sheets and hid underneath my bead. I had no other option. Loud knocking, and a hand sliding down the door, periodically slapping it. I was horrified.
Silence soon followed. My pathetic body was trembling on the ground, not knowing what to do next. I must have laid there for fifteen minutes, but I did not hear any more knocking or any footsteps. Outside the door, a deep voice broke the silence.
"I'm going to come in now."
I froze. It was a southern accent.
The doorknob slowly rotated allowing the door to creak open. I couldn't see in the darkness, but I could make out the shape of an incredibly tall man as he entered the room. His footsteps were silent, but his irregular breathing was not. Fear overtook me, I could not move. He took three steps and was standing at the foot of my bed. I thought about making a break for the door. I hesitated, and felt a massive hand grab my shoulder. With incredible strength the man pulled me from under the bed and slammed me into my dresser. I could barely see but he seemed at least two heads taller than me. His hands grabbed me again and threw me on the ground. The ungraceful fall knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to regain my breath. Slowly he crouched down and squatted beside me. I looked up and saw something strange. He was wearing a mask. It was a cheap plastic mask, the kind a child would wear at Halloween, but it was unlike any I had seen before. It was of LBJ.
Behind the plastic face his breathing was more uneven than ever, between desperate breaths he spoke to me. "Do you remember me?" He stopped to let in a few labored breaths. "Do you remember me?"
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what was going on. I replied honestly, "N-no."
He placed his right hand over my face and just pushed down. Lightly at first but then with sudden strength, and he groaned as he did so. It hurt immensely. He let up and started speaking again, but his words were muffled by his mask. His words were strikingly calm. I noticed a glint of light by the mask's eyehole. What was it? He pushed again.
His pushing was considerably harder, and the pain was unbearable. I started to gag involuntarily. I had an animal urge to scream "MOM! HELP ME!" but it was drowned out in the squabble. He would stop breathing for ten seconds and then abruptly start again. I was losing my energy in the struggle, and my flailing arms had knocked into the bed's legs several times. He slowly brought his masked face down in front of mine. I felt a lone drop of water fall onto my face. It was a tear.
I noticed it now, he was crying. He groaned and began to push down on my face again, harder than ever.
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