The Phone Call | Teen Ink

The Phone Call

November 15, 2012
By byuialexandria BRONZE, Somewhere, Michigan
byuialexandria BRONZE, Somewhere, Michigan
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

It all started when Marilyn Magid had begun to work at the town recycling center. She was petite for a sixteen year old, only 5 feet, 6 and half inches, and her golden locks hung slightly past her dimpled chin. It was only her first week, and I had put out notice posters inviting the community to bring in and drop off their old computer parts, cell phones, and pagers. I assigned Marilyn to make sure that the batteries had been removed from every laptop and phone. She was a focused worker with a great attitude, and by the end of the day, she had basket filled with dead cell phones.
It was about closing time, and I peeked out from my office to notice Marilyn being the last of the employees still in the building. Before she placed the basket in the cupboard and locked it, she walked over to the coat rack to retrieve her jacket. All of a sudden, one of the phones started ringing. “Dringgg! Dringgg!” Her hand repelled off the jacket, and she whipped all the way around, a shocked stare eying the basket that resided on the cold, hard floor. She was indeed in horror, just as I had suspected, but Marilyn picked up the phone and answered it anyways. She was such easy bait, a mystery that will forever be unfathomable to me.
“P-p-potterville Recycling Center. H-how may I help you?” Her professional voice was shaking. I grinned from the constrictive corridor in which I resided, my fulvid teeth grimed with food remains, and watched this flawless creature.
“Hello Marilyn.” A raspy voice echoed from the receiver. I told him smoking was going to kill him. And so it did.
“Umm, who is this?” She was petrified.
“You’re probably wondering how I know your name. Well, you see, Mr. Manson and I have been partners in-- friends for as long as I can remember. He’s just told me a lot about you, and I’m sorry you won’t be working with him after tonight.” I threw my hands up in the air annoyed. You don’t tell someone you’re going to kill them, you just do it!
“Excuse me!?” She had lost it.
“Oh God. Ummm… Sorry. Is Mr. Manson there?”
She let out a short breath, definitely more annoyed at this point.
I glided out of my office, chin held high. Mr. Manson to the rescue...
“Marilyn!” I called out confidently. She whipped around and her glance shot my ice cold face which almost shattered. She thought she was fired. I frazzled a fake confusion.

“Here he is.” She held the dead phone out to me, motioning for me to take my waiting call like a five year old does to her pompous older brother.


I snatched it away from her, flashed a quick smile, and instructed her to wait until I was done. I escaped back to my office and slammed the door.


“Are you stupid? What did we talk about? You were supposed to lure her outside, and then I would beat her to death and finish the body, sucking the blood out of her neck. She won’t follow you if she doesn’t like you, and she won’t like you if you tell her she’s going to be fired!” Dumbass.


“Well, I didn’t want to freak her out about the whole death thing.”


“Well you need to figure out something to say to her so she’ll go outside with you when you get here. You know we can’t do it here with the security cameras and everything.”
“The security cameras are listening to us now.” Are you serious?


“S*** Tricks! You let her get away!” I was furious. “I could’ve devoured one last satisfactory thing before I had to end up like you! Now I am dead! Not as dead as you obviously…” I was reaching crazy, but I didn’t want to be in an asylum again.


“You can still run Manson. Just run away and forget about her.”


“No!” I shot back. “You of all people would understand the psychopathic life of a serial killer! We worked together!” They just never caught me. I sank into a crouching position and banged my head against the cold, bumpy wall. Suddenly, I heard a toilet flush. I perked up.
“Tricks! I think she’s still here! I need to get her outside pronto. Just meet me out by the old fountain and we’ll do it together.” I kept the phone close to my ear, walked towards the wooden door, and let myself out. This was probably the last time I would see this office if the police ever got tapes of this conversation.
Before he could respond, I clicked “end call” and tossed the device in my trench coat pocket, and calmly strolled out into the foyer. A cold breeze rushed over my face, and I heard a creek of the stall door in the distance, signaling that she would be out soon. I waited patiently.


I saw her walking down the hallway with her head bowed. Was she praying? As she approached where I was standing, Marilyn looked up a bit startled, and said with a soft, kind tone, “Well, if you don’t need anything else, I think I’ll be on my way. Goodnight Mr. Manson,” and went to grab her coat once more. I just gazed as the short figure reached for her pea coat and made her way toward the heavy wooden door. She pressed down hard on the stiff handle, and pushed the door open, letting a bitter blizzard breeze from the outside rush into the building. This may be easier than I thought. I’ll just follow her out.
“Marilyn!” I called out. She turned around to face me.


“Dringgg! Dringgg!” the dead phone interrupted in my pocket. Her ocean eyes gaped in my direction. I grinned.


She turned back toward the dark, rectangular framed night, a full moon shining as the only light. She started walking, her pace increasing over the short seconds of the night.


“Not so fast!” I sneered. Marilyn began to run, and I rushed after her, calling out her name which echoed in the lonely night. “CRACKK, THUDD!” she slipped, falling hard onto the smooth pavement beneath her.
I could hear the phone blaring louder than it was before. Hang up the damn phone Tricks!


I shuffled to the base of her feet as she was scrabbling to get back up. I jammed my wet, heavy boots onto her sweaty forehead, knocking her skull into the ground.


“Not fast enough. I’m not done with you. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even started.”


She lifted up her head just enough to spit on my brown footwear. I grimaced at her, and she returned the expression.


“What do you want from me?!” the innocent child demanded.


“You,” I simply answered.


Just then, I heard a familiar swish in the air and a cough.
“Tricks?” I called out.
“Manson.” A wheezing, translucent figure approached my side.
“What do you want to do with her?”
“I’m still thinking which method will be the most satisfactory.”
“Well, when we were plotting, you said you were going to attack her… Something about cutting her neck open… or was it breaking her neck? Anyways, you would leave the soul to me. Even ghosts get lonely you know.” He winked at Marilyn and she passed out.
“What the hell man!? You know it’s not as fun when they’re not fully conscious! We wanted her to suffer through it, remember? We find joy in these things.”
“First of all, I’m not a man. And second of all, look on the bright side. If the cops find you and you get the death penalty or whatever, all three of us can all be awesome ghost friends.”
All of a sudden, “Dringgg! Dringgg!” A blaring noise was coming from inside one of Marilyn’s coat pockets. I patted her until I found it. It was alive and full of battery.
“Mother,” Tricks read the obvious caller ID aloud over my shoulder. “Should we answer it?”
“No! Are you kidding?! This is this girl’s mom! We can’t just answer the phone and say, “Hello, how are you on this dark, freezing evening? Oh, your daughter? She’s just here with her boss- myself, a serial killer, and my BFF Mr. Tricks who’s a ghost.”
“Helloo??” A faint, worried voice that sounded quite like Marilyn’s responded form the receiver. Oh. My. God. Tricks had connected the call anyways, and now Mrs. Magid really knew where her daughter was.
“Where is Marilyn?!” the woman on the other line shrieked.
Tricks answered again. “Oh, she’s here with us. We were just about to devour her body and soul until you called, and then you ruined our ritual, but what the heck? How about you come join us?” I wrestled to get the phone back and pressed end, then shot Tricks a death glare. Too bad he was already dead…

I shook off my frustration and went to take care of the real problem. I bent down to stick my teeth into her neck, when all of a sudden... “Whewoooewooweew!” Red and blue lights were flashing everywhere.
And now I’m here, roaming the streets with Tricks. The two of us are quite a sight, floating around and starting dead phones to ring. Damn you death penalty.



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This article has 2 comments.


on Nov. 21 2012 at 12:07 pm
byuialexandria BRONZE, Somewhere, Michigan
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Wow! Thank you so much! That means a lot :)

on Nov. 19 2012 at 4:20 pm
MaliLove BRONZE, Maple Hts., Ohio
4 articles 0 photos 6 comments

Favorite Quote:
Learn from Yesterday. Live for Today. Hope for Tomorrow

OMG!! I love the way you write and i loved your story. It was very different and i loved the ending!! Good job :)