The Last Seen

The first thing Riya noticed was that her phone said

“Last seen: just now.”

That was impossible.

She was alone in her apartment. The door was locked. The windows were shut. And her phone—her only phone—was in her hand.

Still, WhatsApp showed it clearly.

Riya (You): Last seen just now

She frowned and refreshed the app.

Same thing.

A chill crept up her spine. Maybe it was a glitch. Phones did that. She locked the screen and tossed it onto the bed, trying not to think about it.

That’s when it vibrated.

A message.

From her own number.

"Did you check yet?"

Her stomach dropped.

She typed with shaking thumbs.

"Who is this?"

The reply came instantly.

"You. Or… the part you forgot."

Her chest tightened. She laughed out loud, a thin, nervous sound. Someone was messing with her. Spoofed number. Prank. That had to be it.

She blocked the contact.

The phone buzzed again.

Blocked numbers can’t message.

Except this one did.

"You always block me. It never works."

The lights flickered.

Riya stood up so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor. Her apartment felt wrong—too quiet, like the air was thick and listening.

She grabbed her phone and opened the camera.

The room looked normal.

Until she switched to the front camera.

For half a second, she saw herself smiling.

She wasn’t smiling.

She dropped the phone.

It hit the floor face-up.

The screen was still on.

The camera showed her standing there, frozen, terrified.

And behind her—

Someone else.

Same face.

Same eyes.

But standing too close. Head tilted. Smile stretched just a little too wide.

Riya screamed and kicked the phone away. It slid under the bed.

Her breathing was loud now. Ragged. She backed into the wall, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

“This isn’t real,” she whispered. “I’m not losing my mind.”

Her phone buzzed again.

From under the bed.

"You left me there."

Her hands shook. “Left you where?”

The reply took longer this time.

Too long.

"In that hospital room.

When they sedated you.

When you stopped responding."

Her vision blurred. She remembered flashes—white lights, pressure on her chest, voices shouting numbers.

“You’re lying,” she said, but her voice was weak.

"You woke up. I didn’t."

Something shifted under the bed.

Not crawling out.

Just… adjusting.

Like someone making space.

"You took the life that belonged to both of us."

The bed creaked.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Riya bolted for the door, fumbling with the lock, fingers slippery with sweat.

The phone buzzed one last time.

"I just need to be seen again."

Her door swung open.

The hallway was empty.

But her phone screen lit up in her hand.

Front camera.

She saw herself standing there.

Alone.

Behind her—

Nothing.

She exhaled in relief so sharp it almost hurt.

Then the message appeared.

"Turn around."

Her reflection blinked.

She didn’t.

Because somewhere very close—

Someone else did.

the end

(these are short stories with no definite end from next story I'll try to make a story the have proper end)

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