My Dead Girlfriend Keeps Messaging Me On Facebook Novels & Stories

“Good. Keep believing it. Because I’m going to prove it every single day.” We kiss again, slower this time, deeper. Her hands slide up my chest, into my hair, and I’m getting lost in the taste of her, the feel of her, when my phone buzzes. We both ignore it. It buzzes again. “You should check that,” she murmurs against my lips. Reluctantly, I pull back and check my phone. Two texts. My sister: **“Mom’s so excited about Sunday she’s already planning the menu. Also, is your girlfriend okay? I saw the video online. That looked intense.”**

She was sure she’d miss him terribly. “I see,” she replied, holding back her emotions. He nodded, offering a faint, sad smile. “I’ll miss you. So, please, check your messenger. I’m sure there’ll be a signal where we’re going. I want to call you often.” She nodded. But then she slapped her forehead. They weren’t even friends on F******k. “How will you call me? We’re not even friends on F*.” “You added me earlier,” he said with a grin, making her frown.

"So this is all I have left?" She rummaged through the box. Inside were a small statue of Lord Zeno and a few photos with yellowed edges—printouts of old Facebook screenshots from when she and Sebastian had just started dating. "Facebook?" Hera murmured. "He printed these himself. Screenshots of our posts, our messages… I didn't even know." A flicker of guilt and warmth crossed her heart. Maybe this was her way back to him. Neither of them had used Facebook in years, but it was worth a try. Her palms sweated as she prayed his account still existed.

Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised; a lot has changed over the years. I found some clothes to pull on and grabbed a coffee. I checked my phone, seeing I had a message on, through my Facebook Messenger. Strange, who could that be? Most people text me. I looked closer and soon realises who it was. Becca! A smile began creeping on my lips, but then soon fades. What if she was upset because I left without saying goodbye? There is one way to find out. I opened it, and it read. Rebecca Quinn - Hey, I had fun last night too. No need for apologies, I wasn’t expecting you to be there still when I woke up lol. I hope you don’t mind me messaging you on here. You can quickly delete it, anyway.

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.

Her sharp eyes swept my face, that brand of scrutiny she excelled at and honestly… unnerving. “His number’s dead.” My voice thinned, rough from sambal and from things I couldn’t swallow. “Not a ‘I’m at the spa,’ not a ‘I’m doing cryotherapy.’ Dead dead. Operator message. Robot voice. Heartbreak with digital manners. The last time he replied was weeks ago.” I breathed out. “Then one day… he sent a package.” Winona’s brows lifted. She didn’t need to ask which package. She’d raged in our group chat the moment I typed merah bangsat.

I stated and even Zanaya smiled. "It seems like our group is constantly being drawn towards them, huh?" I added. "I don't even know if that's funny or what but you're actually right." she agreed. And then I saw the light on her phone flicker, another message coming in. This time, it was not the same person, but the name of the person I know she's dying to see. And I'm dying just the same.

Even with this concern, their excitement remained high, and Amy finally had some time to divert her attention elsewhere. But that day, Amy was thoroughly heartbroken. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she opened F******k Messenger to find over 50 messages from 32 people. At first, she was taken aback by the sight, thinking they might be congratulating her on her upcoming wedding. But she was so wrong.

Some of them are from the colleagues, however a message from Blacksheep36 grabbed my eye. 'I miss you. I need to see you again...' " ...in burial service." I read the last two expressions of their sentence. It is safe to say that he is or her the person who sends me demise dangers previously? What did I do to these individuals that they w ant me to die? I erased their message and proceeded with my work. "Here, this is the model of San-Mi, just text me in the event that you want something." "Much thanks to you, Ms. Selena."

Staring at the peculiar chandelier, I smiled, my cheeks burning hot as the tawdry memories of last night wafted into my mind. The whole experience had definitely been one for the books. After a moment, I sat up on the bed and reached over to the nightstand to grab my phone. I had three unread messages from Leah, my mum, and my network service provider. Since my best friend's chat was pinned, I decided to read hers first. “Hiiii, Dee. How are you doing? I miss youu. Come back home soon.” Smiling, I typed back my response, “I miss you too, Leah. Don't worry, I will be back before you know it. Also, do you really miss me or my foods?”