She sat there on her couch, lost in her own world with her laptop nestled in her laps and her pet curling peacefully beneath her feet. Suddenly her phone rang loudly in the quiet of her living room, jolting her back to life. She hesitated a little before picking it up. She couldn't recognize the number on the screen, it was an unknown caller. Taking a deep breath, she put the phone to her ear and answered.
"Hello?" she said tentatively, waiting for the human at the other end to speak.
Instead there was silence on the other end for a while, before a low, gravelly voice spoke. "I've been watching you," the voice said.
Her heart jumped into her throat as fear gripped her. She felt a shiver down her spine as she tried to compose herself.
She closed her eyes and tried to recognize the voice but It only sounded like it belonged to a man.
"Who is this?" she demanded.
There was a long pause again, before the voice spoke. "It doesn't matter who I am. What matters now is that you need to be careful, because I'm watching you."
With that, the caller hung up, leaving her with a sickening feeling in her stomach. Who was this mysterious caller, and why were they watching her? She asked no one but her fears and herself. And clearly she had no answers to that. The feeling this was just the beginning of something far more sinister began to get a hold of her.
She's called Mabel, a young woman in her mid twenties, with blonde curly shoulder-length hair that framed her heart-shaped face. Mabel has these bright blue eyes that sparkled with life and full pink lips that always seemed to be curving into a smile. Her petite frame was graceful and just enough for her. And whenever she moves, it's with an easy confidence that is both attractive and womanly.
Mabel lives alone in a small house in the outskirts of the city. She's just an introverted writer, who is always lost in her own world of many words and deep imagination. All her life she had never been one for parties or to make friends. The only company she prefers was her books and her fluffy little cat, Mr. White.
The only companion she had years back was her journalist parents who lost their lives in a mysterious auto crash after months of series of threats via calls and letters.
Days after the call, Mabel had tried going about her daily routine, but deep down, somehow, the fear of the unknown caller was always lurking at the back of her mind. She was constantly edgy and looking over her shoulder, wondering if truly she was being watched just as the caller had said.
After the first call the caller had called a few nights after but unlike the first time, it was just a chuckle from the strange voice on the other end, and then the words.
"I see you, Mabel. I see everything."
She trembled in fear. She didn't know who the caller was, or what he wanted. She only knew she needed to do something, but what exactly?.
After a series of visits to the police station to report the calls, they couldn't do anything because they needed more information about the caller or calls. She felt helpless, like she was trapped in a nightmare and was struggling to wake up from.
Days turned into weeks, and the calls reduced. But her fear persisted. Gradually she had started seeing shadows around her apartment, through the windows and everywhere. Like a scene from a horror movie. She tried to blame it on her mind playing tricks with her. But the conviction that someone was watching her every move was stronger.
One lonely night she clung to her chair. The events of the two nights had left an indelible mark on her. Her once carefree demeanor was swiftly replaced by a sense of constant fear and unease. Her eyes darted nervously around every corner of every room she entered. The once hearty laughter she had was now a sporadic occurrence, and she spoke in a hushed tone.
Then it happened, she heard a knock at the door. She froze as she wasn't expecting anyone. Slowly, she made her way to the door and peered through the peephole. But there was no one there.
She let out a sigh of relief, and turned to return to the couch but then her phone rang. It was the caller.
"I'm right outside Mabel. You should have answered the door," the voice said and then the call ended.
Scared and without thinking, she quickly grabbed her phone and her keys and ran out of the house, tears streaming down her face and forgetting to lock her doors. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she had to get faraway from that vicinity.
As she drove farther down the deserted streets, she finally saw a gas station and pulled in, with hope of finding some help. Getting out of her car she ran inside, hands shaking as she searched for someone to talk to.
"Please,help me?" she said to the cashier, her voice shaky. "I think someone's been following me, and I don't know what to do."
The cashier without second thought dialed 911. Then she offered Mabel a seat.
Minutes later the police arrived and two officers entered the gas station.
They took her statement and promised to look into the matter. They also drove her back to her house and searched the premises, but they found nothing, no signs of a break-in or anyone lurking around. It was as if the caller never existed. They assured her she was safe as one of the police will stay behind to secure her.
Right before she tucked herself in bed hoping to find some sleep, she remembered it. The drive her father had given her to secure weeks before he was involved in an auto crash that took his life and that of her mother. The drive had incriminating evidence against the Mayor of their town who was into illegal activity. She was to take it to the appropriate authorities when the time was right.
She speedily jumped off the bed and quickly searched for it where she hid it. But I was gone. The caller must have taken it.