I was in a state of disbelief. Nobody has access to my phone. But something was different about it. My apps had been completely rearranged, and some were missing. I shrugged it off as a minor software glitch, or maybe I forgot I had done it, because like I said, nobody has access to my phone.
The next morning it had happened again, but with a major difference. My background was changed. Before it was a picture of my cat, but now it had become solid white. This couldn't have been me. Over the next week more and more apps began disappearing, until only the preset apps were left, the ones you cant uninstall.
That whole week I had grown so tired of re-installing apps I just stopped. I began searching the internet, looking in forums and help desks, trying to find what was causing my phone to reset itself. All my searches were coming up blank. Apparently no one else was having the same problem I was having.
Then, a week went by with no problems. My phone kept the apps I had installed, and my background didn't change. The glitch was gone. Or so I thought. As soon as the week was over it started up again, but it was worse. The preset apps, the ones you can't delete, were vanishing. The phone's background had become a solid red color. Everything was absent from my phone, except for the Google Search Bar. I typed in one word, Why. The word was then replaced with the phrase, "I Can't Let You Search That".
At this point I became deeply disturbed. My phone was telling me what I can and can't search. This has gone to far, I decided not to let a software glitch ruin my life. I smashed my phone against the table, over and over until there was no more glass left in the screen. Now it was the empty shell of a phone I had once used.
That same day I went to a local Cell Phone provider because (apparently) after you break your phone, you need a new one. I picked up an older model of the current phone I had previously owned (smashing your phone isn't part of the warranty), because it was cheaper. The phone I picked up was working successfully for a little over a month. Then all hell broke loose. The phone started to show similar signs to the one I smashed had. The wallpaper was replaced with an even darker red, almost the color of fresh blood, while all my apps began to slowly disappear.
Things then began to escalate when I opened my phone to find the background changed to a picture of me sleeping. Yes, a picture of me sleeping. One can only imagine how that got onto my phone, seeing as how I live alone. That being said, I had had enough. No more cellular technology for me.
The very next day I bought a safe. I planned on placing the phone in the safe and locking it with no intent of ever seeing it again. But before the safe was safely locked, I received a text from a blocked number.
It had four words, "You Can't Stop Me".
This was not a push, but a shove off of the edge of reality. I deleted the message, and locked the safe and I buried it. Not in my backyard, not in my neighbors, not even in my city. I drove for hours, until finally, I found somewhere remote enough that even I couldn't possibly remember were I buried it.
It was over. I left my phone six feet under in a safe, where no one could get to it. I was safe.
When I arrived home from silencing my phone I was met with an overpowering odor. It was so strong I couldn't be in the house for more than a minute at a time.
I left for the store and returned with a gas mask, ready to face whatever the manifested the stench. Upon entering I found droplets of dried brown blood, leading from my bedroom to the somewhere else in the house. As soon as I saw the blood I reached into my pocket so I could call the Police. Then I remembered, I no longer have a phone.
But I found one in my pocket. I held it in my hand. It was the phone I had buried. How? This was impossible. It couldn't. Or. Could it?
I turned on the phone. The background was of my kitchen sink. What was in my kitchen sink made me drop the phone and leave. No turning back, just a brisk walk out the front door. The wallpaper was in fact a picture of my cat. The picture had shown that my cat's throat had been mutilated.
After leaving, I drove until I ran out of gasoline. I was hopefully alone, on the outskirts of town.
Then I felt my leg vibrate. It was my phone. It was in my pocket. It was vibrating. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. The background was of me, leaving the house after I had seen the picture of my cat.
The only thing on the home screen was Google Search. I typed in Why? It responded with, "I Can't Let You Search That". I then asked "Who Are You?" It responded with " I Can't Let You Search That".
I put the phone back in my pocket and began to walk towards what I guessed was home.On the way I was picked up by a middle aged man and his family. They were on vacation, far from home, and their loved ones. They dropped me off only a few miles from the city I live in. I left the phone in their car. As I walked towards home I was stopped by an officer. He inquired on where I was walking so late at night. I explained to him what I have just explained to you, and he laughed. He laughed at all the horrible things I've been through in the last half year.
Knowing it would be there, I took the phone from my pocket and handed it to him. He held it in his hand with curiosity in his eyes. To the officer the phone was just a phone, but to me, it was a hell on earth.
I told him my password. He opened the phone. It was normal. All the apps were there, nothing was changed. He began searching through the phone till he came across the gallery. He searched through the gallery until he saw a picture of me sleeping. Then he saw a picture of my cat without a throat. The next picture was me leaving the house. With a glint of horror in his eye, he swiped to the right, in order to see if there were anymore pictures. There was one more picture. He handed the phone back to me with a face as white as snow, and a look as if he had seen death himself. At that moment I saw what he saw. It was a picture of the officer dead. There was a bullet wound in his chest. I became just as frightened as the officer.
With all the color drained from his face, he commanded me to go. So I left, I continued walking until I reached a small hotel on the side of road. I tried to pay for a room, but my debit card was declined. When ever my card was swiped the machine would read "I Can't Let You Do That". I then asked the clerk if I could pay with anything else, so he gave me a room, under the table, with my watch and phone as payment. I did not sleep at all that night.
That night an unknown man shot the clerk in a dispute over payment for his room. The unknown gunman also shot the first officer on the scene, before fleeing. That officer was the one that stopped me earlier in the night.
And again I left. I leave every time. Searching for what question my phone can answer. I have to leave you now. I just received a message from a blocked number.