Zu spät, dich nicht umzudrehen

I only wanted to check the time. 2:17 a.m. My phone vibrated. New message.

From myself. Same name. Same profile picture. My number. “Why are you staring?”

My chest tightened. I didn’t type. I didn’t move. Another message appeared.

“You invited me.” I deleted the chat. Took a deep breath. Told myself it was just a glitch.

When I opened the app again, the conversation was back. “Don’t delete me.

That hurts.” My hands were shaking. I placed the phone face down on the bed.

It vibrated again. Voice message — 0:06 seconds. I pressed play. It was my voice.

Whispering. “Don’t turn around.” My breathing stopped. I felt something warm against the