My Dead Girlfriend Keeps Messaging Me Novels & Stories

Not even a thumbs-up to let me know she was breathing. I pulled my phone out while I walked toward the bus stop. Screen lit up my face. Same messages staring back at me. Me: Hey ghost girl, you alive? Me: Kira? You okay? Me: Seriously. I’m starting to worry. Nothing. Read receipts off since forever. She hated them. Said they made her feel watched. I shoved the phone back in my jeans. Maybe she lost it. Maybe the battery died. Maybe she finally got tired of my dumb jokes and decided ghosting was easier than telling me to shut up.

"The number you have dialed is not available. Please try again later." I immediately called again. The same result. A third time. A fourth time. A fifth time. Nothing changed. I opened our chat. The last message was still there. Sent hours ago. Where are you? A bright red exclamation mark appeared beside it. Message failed to send. I stared at the screen. Then, as if refusing to accept reality, I tried to add her again. The system displayed a cold notification. This user cannot be found. She had deleted me. She had cut off the final connection between us.

“He messaged again.” Mia froze. “Didn’t you shut that down already?” “I did.” “And?” “He just... keeps messaging.” Mia leaned in, lowering her voice. “Is he saying anything shady?” “No. That’s the worst part. It’s all dumb stuff. Like gym class memories. Or asking if I still eat those sour gummy worms from the vending machine.” “Oh no,” Mia said. “That’s emotional cheating 101.” “I don’t get it. He has a girlfriend.”

Still Nothing. By midnight I had sent more than twenty messages. Still nothing. The next morning, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. My stomach plummeted when Marian’s name flashed across the screen. I opened the text. Two days. That’s all you’re getting. Choose your money or your little girlfriend. Tick-tock. A photo followed: Fiona walking out of campus, she seemed completely unaware. The timestamp was recent. Ice flooded my veins. I called Mason before I’d even finished reading.

We are closer like sisters but she always calls me mam though I talked to her many times about it but she prefers to call me that. We got to the mansion and walked straight to my room to shower, I came out of the bathroom and noticed my phone was blinking, a message came in, I picked up my phone and again it was a secret number, This will be the third time a secret number has sent me a message, could it be one of my fans, I opened the message "You're mine alone always remember that"

Until her phone buzzed. She reached for it absentmindedly, expecting a group chat update from her classmates. But the number was unknown. The message read: *"Tell Carl to check his father’s grave. You think this is over? It’s never over. - M"* Emmy froze. Carl looked down at her. “What is it?” She handed him the phone. His face paled. “Could this be Melissa?” she whispered. “She’s dead… right?” Carl stood up slowly, staring at the screen. “That’s what we thought.”

I scrolled up anyway. His last message to me, three days ago: Babe, working late again tonight. Don’t wait up. Love you. Love you. The words looked like poison now. I opened Maria’s chat next. Her profile picture was still the one of us at the beach last summer, our arms around each other, grinning like nothing could touch us. Her last message: Girl, you have to try this new spot in Wuse. Drinks are lethal. We’re going next week.

This couldn’t be real, I can’t lose Liam too. With my fingers shaking, I tried looking through our old message thread. Most of it was routine, check-ins, coded words, and unreplied messages from me. But buried at the very top, dated only thirty minutes ago, was one unread message. “Goodbye, Val.” Two plain words. No explanation. No follow-up. Just that. I blinked at the screen, waiting for it to update again, as if he would magically follow up with a, “Just kidding. Talk soon.” Or, “Had to wipe the line. I’ll find you.”. Anything, even jargon of numbers that mean nothing. I didn’t care what it was, I just needed to know if my only real friend was still there. But no…

Like she knows something’s wrong just from the way my name sounds in the air. “I’ve messaged you six times. SIX. I’m starting to feel like the creepy ex-girlfriend who won’t take a hint, but guess what? I’m not gonna stop. Because you’re my friend. Because I care. Because I see the way you write about yourself when you’re not looking, and it scares the shit out of me.”

A quiet permission, even though I hadn’t asked for it. My hand moved before I could stop it. I clicked “Go Live.” The screen lit up instantly. My heart dropped and soared all at once as messages poured in, flashing across the chat box like confetti. HotGirlLover69: “SHE’S ALIVE!” SinSimmer: “Damn, baby, we missed you.” MoanDealer: “You okay? You were gone a while.” LoyalWatcher: “You look… different.”