After I Died My Daughter Dialed His Number Novels & Stories

I was born lazy. At least, that was what my mother told me over and over again. Because my mother believed in modern discipline, she made my twin sister, Sophie, and me wear self-discipline bracelets from the moment we were born. Whenever we slacked off, the bracelet would flash red, and Mom would press a button on the remote, making it blast a piercing alarm as punishment. Sophie’s bracelet was always green. Even when she spent the entire day lying in her room playing games, she would simply smile and tell Mom she had been studying whenever Mom asked. The bracelet would remain quietly glowing green. But me? All I had to do was sit on the couch and rest for a few minutes. The bracelet would

My father had a PhD in AI, and he built me an AI little sister named Ava. He said she could see through every lie I told, so I could forget about pretending to be sick to get out of school. From that day on, every time I said I didn't feel well, my father asked Ava first. If she flagged what I said as a lie, it didn't matter whether I was telling the truth. All I got was a cold look from him and hours locked in a room. I argued. I fought it. But my father would just look at me as if I were a failed experiment. "I built Ava myself. The system doesn't make mistakes. You do." On Halloween, for the first time ever, my father took Ava and me to an amusement park. The Zombie Drop Tower stood right

I quickly dialed him. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service.” Son … of … a … bitch.

My vision was a little blur because of tears in my eyes. "They handed me a piece of paper with a phone number on it and asked me to make Ariel call on this number, and they will tell everything," Dad replied in a low voice. "Wha…What number? Give it to me. I will call and demand to leave my daughter I will give them anything. I just want my Caroline, my baby back." I said. Dad handed me the number. I took out my phone and dialed the number, when I heard a female voice pick up on the second ring. A very familiar voice.

She furrowed her brows and moved the phone to see who the caller was before she spoke again, “Dad?” “Your father…has passed away,” the person on the other end said. Amber sat up on the bed and seemed confused. The person speaking is her father’s house keeper. “What did you say again?” Amber asked just to believe that she must have heard wrongly, but the lady said again; “He died in his sleep.” Amber let out a shuddered breath after the line went dead and she stared into space for a long time before jerking herself back to reality. She had to travel down to Town. She quickly dialed a number on her phone and the person picked at the second ring.

Please pick up the call. I expected a reply but none came. I still tried calling her number again but got a response that the phone was switched off. I shook my head tears clouding my vision. "No. That's not true. I'm sure Mom doesn't recognize me that was why she reacted that way." "I'm not dead. I'm alive." I continuously said dialing the number again. All I could get was a silent response. The same goes for my Dad's line which kept on taking me to voicemail.

It's not like I wasn't going to pay, but I hoped they could let me take my father and bury him so he could rest in peace. I have been on my couch ever since then thinking of how I could make money and bury my father, but every time I spent alone was agonizing as I cried every time I remembered my father. Was that how people die? They just die and cease to exist. Memories of them would be stuck in your head forever. While thinking of how to make money, I got a call from an unknown number, and when I picked it up, it changed everything. "Hello." "Is this Hillary Williams?" The person on the call asked if

We couldn't even afford to keep her in the healing center. She never opened her eyes again. My baby girl was so young. Before she died at home, she gripped my hand tightly, her little claws drawing blood as she asked why Daddy hadn't come, if Daddy didn't love her anymore. I could only keep kissing her cheeks, telling her Mommy was here, Mommy would always be with her. My wolf howled in agony as we watched our pup slip away. Until she closed her eyes for the last time, Isla never got to see her father one final time.

And then it does. “Hello, Damon Hale. It is good to know you made it after the show at the funeral,” a familiar male voice echoed through the phone sending shock waves through my nerves. “Help! Damon! Help!” A soul-shattering cry from Lisa echoed in the background, stabbing me in my heart. I died instantly while standing alive.

And now, I just found out that my dad was dead. It felt like my world had collapsed right in front of me. Why was all this happening to me in one single day? “I… I can't leave. Alessio’s got his eyes on me,” I sniffled. “Then it means you're not interested in knowing who killed your dad!” he snapped and hung up. “Please, don’t hang up on me!” I cried out. Sobbing, I called the number again, but he didn’t pick up. “Please answer the phone,” I cried, almost at the brink of losing myself. I wished this was all just a dream—one where I’d wake up and find Vanessa cooking for me, my dad still alive, and Alessio not acting the way he was now.