Unsent Messages Novels & Stories

“Maybe he hasn’t seen your message. Why don’t you send him another one?” Serenity was silent for a moment. Then, she picked up her phone, tapped on WhatsApp, and sent another message to Zachary. Serenity: [Do you want to have lunch together?] When she sent the message, she received a system notification stating that Zachary had not added her as contact and could not receive her message. There was a prompt for her to add him as a friend.

Same setup, one saved number. I open the messages, and the last one reads: *Stay put. I’ll contact you when everything is set* But what grabs my attention is the unsent message sitting in the drafts folder, so I click it open. It reads *Aiden’s people have surrounded the compound. I can’t get in. Be careful, Ingr…* My breath hitches. “Ingr…” The message cuts off mid-word, but I immediately know what it was meant to say. Ingrid. My name.

After sending, satisfied, but a few minutes later, his smile gradually faded, if I knew in advance that you would have unblocked me soon, I would have wished for something else! . . . * The phone in her pocket rang twice, Anne Jenner picked it up, it was 【 Mitchell 】 sent, a total of two messages, the first one is voice chat, the second one is text. Leaving him on the blacklist for more than two years, because he had to clean up the phone's memory, the previous chat data was soon deleted, but looking at the chat frame still had a little sense of nostalgia. She didn't open the audio message, but pressed audio to text.

Single message from an outside number I didn't recognize. I opened it. Four words. “We need to talk.” The sender ID resolved after a three second delay. Elder Maren.

Suddenly I remembered something. Yesterday after the thing with Adrian, he sent me a message. He stated that one of the deals he didn’t mention was that I had to do something with him and for him, at least every day. So I sighed deeply and set him a message. It was a waving emoji. At least that counts for something. It was then that I decided to reply all my messages. Even the ones that had been dated since 5 days ago. My life was been crazy lately, so checking my messages was something I didn’t see as important these days.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Liam asked, sensing her sudden stiffening. “Nothing,” she answered absentmindedly, her mind still engrossed in the message. Who could it be? What did the message mean? Was it meant for her, or did the sender get the wrong number? She had too many questions and few answers. But there was only one way to find out. She typed a response. Who are you, and what do you mean?} The tiny checkmarks below the message turned blue immediately, signaling that the person on the other side had read the message. She waited for the reply bubble to appear, but there was none. Two minutes went by, and there was still no response.

Emma doesn’t follow. Inside, I set the cup down and pull out my phone. A notification sits near the top of the screen, an unsent message from Elena, timestamped around six. Twenty minutes ago. My thumb hovers. Whatever she wrote and then took back is still sitting in the system somewhere, just not in the chat anymore. I type. Me: Hey baby. No reply. I set the phone face-down and try to focus on the remaining paperwork. The words blur. The unsent message bothers me more than it should. Elena doesn’t usually draft and delete. When she has something to say, she says it.

If you don’t feel it, then just tell me, and I’ll thank you for your time and walk away. The message feels sharp in my hands, but I don’t take it back. I send it and watch the screen, the message turning to “read” almost immediately. But then there's nothing. No typing bubble. No response. Just stillness. I stare at the screen, and every second of silence stretches wider, deeper, until it starts to feel like an answer in itself. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe it was never going to happen. I close the chat with a quiet breath and move on to the next notification.

She took out her phone to check if Sean had messaged her today. She saw three unread messages after opening the messaging application, and she was happy. But, after she took a closer look, the messages were not from Sean.

I expected it to be full of the same panicked messages my cell phone was before I threw it in the river. I typed the email server’s address and signed in. I hummed quietly to SafetySuit playing on Spotify and skimmed through my unread messages. There was over one hundred, and at first glance, at least half of them were the spammy marketing things companies send. There were a few scattered messages from my parents, but it was one from a college friend that caught my eye. I opened Susan’s message. Elena, I heard the news from Martin’s cousin at work. Please tell me you’re okay and nothing has happened to you. I’m so worried.