The Last Notification

The apartment was silent, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of old wooden floorboards expanding in the cool night. Outside, the wind whispered through leafless branches, casting jittery shadows on the walls. A lone streetlamp flickered, its dull light barely cutting through the dense fog curling around the neighborhood.

At 2:17 a.m., Mia’s phone buzzed.

“Are you awake?” The message was from her sister.

Mia sat up, confused. Her sister had died three years ago. She stared at the screen, pulse thudding.

Then another ping.

“I’m outside.”

Mia, heart pounding, tiptoed to the window. The street below was empty, bathed in the amber wash of the flickering streetlight.

Another message.

“You didn’t answer.”

Mia backed away from the window. The hallway light flickered. The air turned cold.

Buzz.

“You never answer. That’s why you died too.”

Her phone slipped from her hand, screen cracking as it hit the floor.

Footsteps. Not hers. From inside the house.

Someone whispers

Miaaaa~....................