Ready or not…
The sun ducked behind a cloud, and the air grew colder.
I blocked that number, too.
Ping. Ping.
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
The messages began coming faster than I could block them.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Text bubble notifications popped up one after another. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Each little notification bell was a little ice pick in my brain. My breath quickened.
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
“Stop,” I told the phone, even as my fingers blocked and deleted, blocked and deleted. I felt hot and cold all at once. Powerless. I couldn’t stop the messages. I couldn’t keep up with them fast enough.
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
“Stop!” I shouted, louder, as if the phone would obey my commands.
The messages just wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming. Over and over and over again. I felt helpless. My phone was under attack. So was I.
Ready or not…
Ready or not…
Ready or—
I shut off my phone. I had no choice. I turned it off.
I stared at the black screen, half fearing a notice would pop up anyway.
But it didn’t.
Of course it didn’t. My phone was off.
