My Lost Cellphone (Short Story)

I pick up my landline to dial my number. No answer. That is a good sign. I think I left my phone in somewhere at home. It was a messy morning.

When I assume my phone is at home and ready to hang up, a man answers, “hello.” I am surprised and become suspicious.

“Who are you?” I ask him cautiously.

“Who are you? Why are you calling?” He asks me back.

“The phone, you are using, is mine. You can find an engraved name, Olivia, is at the back of the phone. How did you get it? Where did you get it? Did you steal it when I was on the bus this morning?” I bluntly throw out all of my questions to him. 

“I found this phone on the street.” He answered in a weird sound.

“On the street? I don't believe you whatever you said. Give back my phone!” I start yelling at him even though I am a timid person.

“I found it on the street. That is mine. I can use, or I can sell. “His odd provocative reaction pisses me off.

“I know you want money by selling my phone. You are a thief and liar! Give back my phone!” I shout out with all my anger, trying to scare him.

“No! No! No! I found it. It’s mine. You are a psycho and an idiot.” He rudely yells back.  

“I really need it. My phone is my life. My photos, my families, my friends are all in that phone. That was a gift from my boyfriend. I cannot lose my phone again. Please, please, please. Tell me how much money you want.” I attempt to gain sympathy from him.

“$200. Cash. Maple Street bus station in 30 minutes.” His reply is short and simple.

“Deal. “I hang up, rush downstairs to withdraw cash, and jump in a taxi.

I have been waiting for over ten minutes at the empty Maple Street bus station. “Is there something wrong? Why didn't he show up? We had a deal on the phone. Is this a funny joke for him? Liar!” I start blaming myself for trusting this man.

Suddenly, I see my boyfriend is singing our favorite song and walking toward to me with my best friends. My boyfriend kneels down in front of me and opens a black box. My phone is in here.

 “Hey, my clumsy girl. Three years ago today, a Monday morning, you bumped against me and knocked over my briefcase at Maple Street bus station. Both of us took the wrong cellphone. That was the beginning of our love story. You said your phone was your life. From now on I will be a significant and indispensable part in the rest of your life. Do you know how hard my friend played the bad person on the phone this morning? We had to hold our breath not to laugh. I believe this lost-phone prank will be one of our most unforgotten memories on April Fool’s day, the day we met and I proposed. Would you marry me? This is not prank.”

“Yes. I will marry you.”  I cry tears of joy and reply to him, “and I know how hard it was to play a role on the phone.”

One month ago, my phone was stolen. My boyfriend bought me this new phone with tracking software and a monitoring camera. He taught me how to use this technology to locate and lock my phone if my phone was lost or stolen.

This morning, I didn't use it. My best friends told me the whole plan after my boyfriend asked them to help. I was drunk last night because I knew it was my last birthday party as a single girl before getting married.