Horror And Mystery Stories
unexpected phone marketing

“Halo, is this Mr Henderson?”

There is no reason to answer that call. Even the app on my phone has shown that it is a private number. But nevermind. I have not been able to talk for a long time now. Even talking to creditors seems interesting.

I haven't communicated with people in a long time. Since my wife was killed in 2015. All because of a robbery. On that night, one young man******* sneaked into our home. The young man shot him.

The suspect was arrested two days later. Imprisoned for life. To this day he is still in prison.

I have been working as a Web developer since my wife left. I work remotely, so it fits perfectly with my desire to live alone without being disturbed by anyone. I have no friends anymore.

“Search Mr Henderson which?” ask me while sitting on a chair with a bottle of wine. It was raining a storm that day. A strong wind blew outside.

“Uhhh... Arthur Henderson,” replied the woman. The voice of the woman is very familiar. A quiet and beautiful voice. But I think this must be the effect of alcohol from my wine that I have finished half a bottle.

“Sorry, Mom.. But Arthur Henderson died six years ago,” replied I was a bit irritated because of the poor record-keeping system in the company.

He was silent for a moment.

“Yeah... Here it is not written so. I'm sorry Sir. We didn't realize it. Can we check for a minute?”

The sound of a cabinet cabinet being opened. Then there was a little static. I think the woman must have clamped the phone to her shoulder while busy looking for data in the cabinet. I smiled a little at him imagining it.

“Oh is okay. Don't worry. How about you introduce yourself first?” ask me, while inwardly scolding myself for trying to pedekate at a time like this.

She laughs. The way he laughs is so familiar. “My name is Emily. I work at a credit company. Unfortunately we cannot name our company because you are not our customer. You just admitted it..”.

“Good.”.

“So I guess, you are his son father Arthur Henderson?” ask her while picking up the paper.

“Ya Ma'am. But this has been a long time.. I shouldn't be dealing with people's debts that have been gone a long time, right?” ask me expectantly.

“Um, let's try a check,” still sounds he's trying to flick open a book on the other end of the phone.

“Sorry Sir,” replied him in a sorry tone. “This related rule is in one of the binders, so it's a bit hard to find. Please wait a moment.”

“Okay no problem. I don't know today there are still people who keep records in paper form.. Will I get a confirmation email regarding this bill?” ask me.

“Sorry?”

“Email bill.”

“Email?”

“Yes.. Email.. Bill confirmation?” I asked in doubt, which was from confusion to frustration. What's wrong with this girl? He doesn't know what email is?

“We have not done this here.Maybe wait a few more years using that technology,” he replied. “But you should know, delinquent payment is a serious problem. Arrears can affect an individual's credit rating, if not as soon as paid.”

“Ok, ok, sure.” replied me, who was starting to get upset and worried. “What can I do?”

“Is Mr Arthur Henderson's wife there?” ask her.

“Already died in the year ’06”

“Sorry, what year? Uh I seem to be pesky meddling.”

My wife worked at a credit card company before we met. Name's Emily. His voice was similar to that of the caller. It's just that the woman on the phone sounds easier. More excited than I remember.

“What's your last name?” ask me.

Silent..

“Look, I know this is a strange question. But I beg you, I think we know each other.”

“I cannot provide that information..” he replied.

“Okay. You went to Jefferson Memorial High School, didn't you?”

“Ya..” the answer is surprised. “How can you know?”

Just incredible! Emily is dead. The voice on the phone looks like her. Younger, happier, more optimistic. This condition is one of the dreams that often keep me awake at night. And today, I am in a conscious state. Is this a coincidence?

“Your mother's name, Eva?”

Back there was no sound. But his answer confirmed my suspicions.

“Who is this?”

I took a deep breath. Either I start to understand what's going on, or I'm crazy. I certainly enjoy this condition. “The next question will sound strange. What date is it today?”

“Sorry, Sir.. Whahuh? Wait a minute.” He paused for a while then heard the sound of paper crunch again, then a while “Today 9 July 1999.”

Impossible. Could it be because of the storm outside? On the anniversary of his death?

“Emily, listen to me.”

“Pak. This conversation has started to go. Let's focus on payment only.”

“Listen carefully.. One day, one day you will meet a man. You're gonna fall in love with her, Emily. He will love you more than you imagined.” I have to give him something that he can remember. “On your first holiday together, he will buy you one gift for all twelve christmas days.”

“Sounds romantic,” comments him while laughing. “Are you a fortune teller?”

“I am very serious. You're getting married to this guy Emily. He will give you the ring you always wanted. The wedding ceremony is in your hometown. Your whole family is there, including aunt Zelda and your grandmother from Tennessee.”.

“I love zodiac divination,” answer him with a bit of a satirical tone.

“However, two years later, July 9, 2015, you will be killed in the house you live with.”

Silent voice, then sound, “So what should you do?”

First of all, I told you to avoid the house that day. To not date me, to avoid, and find someone else better. But in the middle of the conversation, the voice suddenly interrupted. I tried to call back, but no one picked up again.

I fell asleep and heard thunder all night. The night reappeared in my dream. Shout him. His body was lying on the floor. I never wondered at that phone call. I didn't ask why. Maybe it's God. Maybe it's just time. When I woke up yesterday morning..

Emily was next to me.