Taste of cherry
The Last Message”
It started with a text.
At exactly 3:03 AM, Sarah’s phone buzzed. She groggily reached for it, expecting a message from a friend or maybe a wrong number. But it was from her number — her own phone — and it simply read:
“Don’t look behind you.”
Her heart froze. She sat up in bed, staring at the screen, trying to make sense of it. The room was dark and silent, except for the ticking of the clock on her wall. Slowly, almost against her will, she turned her head.
Nothing. Just the shadows of her furniture and the faint glow of the streetlight outside.
She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. It had to be a prank. Maybe someone cloned her number. She locked the phone and set it back on her nightstand.
But then it buzzed again.
“I said, don’t look behind you.”
Now panic bloomed in her chest. Her breath quickened. She clutched the phone, ready to call someone — anyone. But the screen glitched, flickered, and then… went black.
And in that moment of darkness, she heard it.
A breath. Right behind her ear.
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