The Enigma of the Midnight Caller

At about midnight, the telephone rang. It was not even a moment before or after. With his heart pounding, Ethan gazed at it. The timing, which was exactly in tune with the old grandfather clock in his living room, was unsettling. The world seemed to have paused for that instant. His fingers shook just a little as he reached for the receiver.

His voice was scratchy as he said, "Hello?"

"Did you forget?" He was chilled by the coldness of the voice on the other end, which was hardly more than a whisper.

"Forget what?" Ethan replied, trying to shake the fog that seemed to cloud his thoughts. What was happening? He didn't recognize the voice, nor could he place the words. The caller didn’t give a name, and there was no hint of who they were.

The silence was uncomfortable. Again, the voice said, "You've forgotten it all." "Everything." The line dropped. Ethan's hand dangled in midair, reaching for the receiver as though it'd slip from his grasp if he moved any faster. A dense and uncomfortable silence settled across the room.

what was he supposed to remember? Not only this What had he forgotten?

The very next day, Ethan was trying to go about his usual routine he follows, but everything felt off the grid. People talked to him, but their words didn't resonate. An unusual disconnection got at his brain. Was he here? Or had something else happened in a parallel universe he couldn't understand? To his surprise, just a few hours later, he received another call at the same time with the same whisper.

The voice on the other side asked, "Did you remember yet?" Ethan was confused and frightened at the same time and asked, "Remember what?" He asked again, this time louder, his frustration creeping in. He wanted to scream, but the words caught in his throat. The voice said, "Everything is connected, Ethan.". Your past, present, and future are all pieces of the puzzle, and you're just looking at the wrong angle."

After that, the connection fell dead again, he was shocked this time and could still feel the pressure of the words pushing down on him. He was mumbling some words like puzzle, connected, and looking from the wrong angle. What did all of this mean? Where was the connection?

He finally decides to take a walk, trying to clear his mind. But nothing looked the same. He went down familiar streets, but the houses seemed different. The trees were taller, the shadows much longer. A sudden chill made him look over his shoulder, but he was alone.

As he rounded a corner, something caught his eye—a small, faded postcard stuck under a rock near a bench. He picked it up and noticed it was addressed to him. But no return address was on it. Only a cryptic message: "You've been here before. You just need to see the signs."

He flipped the postcard over, anticipating an additional text, but he was served an empty space, as if waiting for something more to seep through. In a flash, doubt filled his mind. Had he seen it before? Did he receive it before? He was not sure. The heaviness of it seemed strangely familiar.

The next day, the phone rang again. “You’re closer now,” the voice said. “But you’re still looking at the wrong angle.” This time, Ethan snapped. “Enough! Who are you? What do you want from me?!” The line went dead. Again.

He collapsed into the chair, his mind reeling. What had he forgotten? What had he missed? He looked around the room; his eyes fell on the dusty bookshelves, the ticking clock, and the dim light from the window. It all felt wrong, yet so familiar. His heart pounded harder in his chest. He closed his eyes, willing himself to remember… anything.

Then, out of nowhere, a thought struck him. A memory he didn’t know he had. A moment from his childhood—a small puzzle box he had played with for hours, trying to unlock the secret hidden inside. The pieces didn’t fit, not until they did, in a way he hadn’t expected. The pieces didn’t make sense until the last one clicked into place.

Was this the same thing? Was his life the puzzle? And had he been looking at it from the wrong angle all along?

Ethan’s hand reached for the phone once more, but before he could dial, he heard the voice again, not through the receiver this time, but behind him.

“Did you figure it out, Ethan? Or are you still lost?”

He turned, heart racing. There was no one there.

The phone rang