Number Phobia Novels & Stories

“Give me your number.” I scoffed at his words. I should give him my number? He must be dreaming, “I won’t.” “Give me your number.” “I won’t,” I repeated while standing my ground. “So you won’t give me your number?” “No, I won’t.” “Say that one more time.” He had a threatening look, but it had nothing on me. I said I wasn’t giving him my number, so I won’t. “I am not giving you my number,” I said without stuttering. He chuckled and kept his phone.

Believe me, sooner or later this evening will come back to bite them in the ass. "It better look freaking amazing because it's going to be there for a while." I snap scowling up at him. "Can someone unchain me? Now!" I'm starting to get seriously claustrophobic. Is it claustrophobia if you're not in a small space but chained to something? Or is that called something different? No matter what it's called, it's a phobia of mine apparently. I wouldn't really know, I haven't been in chains that much. Not unwillingly at least.

My daughter kicks beneath my palm. The tiny movement gives me the courage I need. "I am doing this for you," I whisper. Turning the phone on, I slowly dial the number. It is a number that I have called hundreds of times. Maybe thousands. But I have never felt this much fear while doing it. I stare at the screen for several seconds before finally pressing the call button. The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times. I almost hang up. Then— "Hello?" His voice. Just one word.

Two, because of the damn phobia. Joseph: Oh! Ok. I'll take note. But you should really write a list of things that I can't do to/with you because of your problem.🥺 I chuckled as I read his text once again. Furthermore, he chose the right emoji for the right time. Me: Hmm, let me think. I don't think you need a list. I already told you the things you can't do to me because of the phobia.🧐 Joseph: You know we should really not call it a phobia. It should be a nickname. Like chocolate or Spider-Man. What do you think?🤩

Since this my number is not connected to my F******k account so I know he can't find me there, he now knows my name but there are hundreds of Rose on F******k. *I can track you down as well you know?* I said hoping to threaten him too. *This my number is not registered in any social platform so good luck with that* He replied and he was right, even true caller didn't show his name. Earlier tonight I was heartbroken now I am scared that my name will be sullied by the public, can I stand the disgrace, what will my religious mother think. *How will I trust you won't request for more after the one night* I texted.

The engine roared to life, With trembling fingers, he reached for his mobile phone and dialed her number, his heart pounding with anticipation. But to his dismay, he received the same automated response: "The phone number you are trying to reach..." Frustration and paranoia gripped Steve as he declined the call and dialed her number again, only to be met with the same robotic message. The lack of response from the other side only fueled his anxiety, sending his thoughts spiraling into a frenzy of worry and fear.

In fact, she had dragged this matter for so long that her company had become anxious before she decided to get a new phone number. They had said that without a cell phone, how was she going to conduct business? How was she going to contact her customers? She was reprimanded and finally after procrastinating, she went to register for a new number. She could not tell them that she had developed a phone-ring phobia and so did not want to own a phone. In the end, she had a gastroenteritis attack and collapsed in the reception hall of the telecommunications business office. Arya felt very sorry.

Had spent years trying to forget those numbers even existed. But I'd never been able to. They were burned into my brain, ten digits that connected to a man I'd spent my whole life trying to escape. My fingers shook as I dialed. Each number I pressed felt like sealing my fate. Like stepping off a cliff and hoping I'd somehow learn to fly before I hit the ground. The phone probably wouldn't even work. It had been almost two decades. He'd probably changed numbers, changed countries, disappeared into whatever hole men like him crawled into when they wanted to vanish.

Sophia pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the screen, stunned. "What…?" she whispered, eyes wide. She quickly hit redial. But this time, a cold robotic voice echoed through the speaker: ‘The number you are trying to call does not exist.’ Her hands went numb. She stared at the screen, redialing again. Again. "The number you are trying to call does not exist." "No… no, no…" she muttered, her chest rising and falling with panic. "It was real. He answered. He spoke. I’m not crazy."

You are so over him so there's nothing to worry about. I was about to call Leo but for goddamn sake, I heard my phone rang and an unknown number registered on my phone screen but I knew very well who was calling me. Every digit of Leo's cellphone number is still clear in my memory. My hand trembled as I accepted the call. I am unable to speak because of the various emotions that pervade my system.