Ezekiel

I was twelve, the first time Ezekiel called me. I had to get a new phone, since my puppy thought it would be a good idea to devour the old one. I was one of those greedy kids who demanded the latest and greatest technology. I first asked for a Blackberry, and upon denial, I pouted for quite some time. Since we were relatively poor, and I was incredibly picky, my Grandpa said he would find the exact model of phone I had previously on Ebay or Craigslist. I accepted the alternative, since I really liked my phone, before it entered my dog's digestive system, that is.

About a week afterwards, I was sitting on the couch, with my puppy lying on my lap, and my laptop by my side. I hated people, always have, and probably always will, so I was homsechooled online. I know it sounds a bit ahead of it's time, but the online college program for our state had middle school enrollment, and my Mom had to work, so she couldn't stay at home with me by herself. Every day, until the late hours of the evening when she would come home...I was alone. I didn't mind, most of the time, but it can get a bit unbearable, especially since I was without a phone. I heard a knock at the door, and shoved the sleeping dog off of my lap, walking up and unlocking the door, then opening it to see my Grandpa, holding a small package. He was mostly deaf, so it took a while for me to understand his babbling. Apparently someone on Ebay had sold him a refurbished phone, in the exact model, and exact color as my old one. I was pretty psyched, though bummed when I realized I had to wait until my Mom got home, so we could go get it activated. Once that was done, I instantly began messing around with it, making sure all of my contacts were still there. A few of them were missing, which tends to happen when switching information to a new phone. I noticed that somehow, some of the information was wrong. A few pictures were on the phone, though none that I can remember taking. There was one of a large weeping willow tree, though it was mostly blurred out by fog, along with an old truck, and a cow. The old truck was one that I remembered to be my Grandpa's, and there was a weeping willow in the middle of the town that he and my Grandma lived in, as well as a few dairy farms further west from there. My Grandpa must've been messing around with the phone earlier, which made sense, since he was childish at heart, and was always messing around with things. Going through the contacts, I found that no one important was missing, just some old friends that I had long since stopped talking to, but there was one contact that stood out. It had no name, it was just a number, and the number didn't have the same area code as we had, so it couldn't be somebody local. It was at the very end of my contacts list, where the pre-programmed emergency numbers were listed. I thought nothing of it.

The first call happened around 8PM on the same day. It happened years before I actually started talking to Ezekiel, so I don't remember much of it. I was lying in bed, with my dog lying next to me, when I heard my phone ringing. I absent-mindedly picked it up without checking the number first.

"Hello?"

There was no response for a few seconds, and I was about to hang up, before he spoke.

"...Hello." His voice was raspy, but he sounded like a young boy. I returned to the thought that he was an old friend of mine, so I decided not to hang up.

"Who is this?"

Again, no response for a while.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Who is this?" He echoed me once more, and I got a little annoyed by it.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"This is Aaron, now who is this?" I snipped back at him, not wanting to wait forever this time. "Hurry it up, would ya?"

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Oh. Ezekiel...my name is Ezekiel."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"That's a stupid name. I don't know any Ezekiels." I then broke out my Gameboy. I was still annoyed, but intrigued to the extent of not hanging up.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I know an Aaron."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Well there's lots of Aaron's." I rolled my eyes, starting up my Pokemon game, though keeping the sound on mute, so I could hear the soft-spoken boy on the phone.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...He liked Pokemon...and has a puppy...named Sammy."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I paused for a moment, scrunching my eyebrows. Sammy raised her head when she heard her name, thumping her tail slowly. "Who...are you?" I sat up a bit more, peering to my window. The shades were closed.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I'm Ezekiel." There was a hint of a giggle in his voice.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Yeah, I got that. But...how did you know all of that?" I tried to stay calm, but I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach. The kind of feeling you get when you know you did something wrong.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I know lots about you...I'm your guardian angel." He laughed again, though his laugh was as slow as he was.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Guardian angel?" At the time, the explanation made sense to me, since there was no other way I could think of that he would know that stuff. There was never an Ezekiel in the same class as me in elementary school, and it's not like it was a common name, either. But I didn't accept it so fast. I grabbed my laptop, and opened it up, typing the phone number into Google.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Yes."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">The number came up as having an area code three states away, the same unidentifiable number stored in my contacts, but that was all I could get. "Yeah, well angels don't have phones." I retorted, closing my laptop again.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I found it."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I eventually gave up on figuring it out, and hung up the phone.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Around the age of fourteen, I grew to love all things paranormal. I read CreepyPasta almost religiously at the time.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">The second call from Ezekiel, was during the winter of that year. I was still home, alone, 90% of the time. I had let Sammy outside to pee, and stood by the patio door to our fenced-in yard, yelling at her to come back inside. She ignored me, and continued to sniff around the yard. That's when the phone in my pocket, the same phone for two years now, began to ring. Once more, without checking it, I picked it up.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Hello?"

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">After five seconds of no reply, I grew a bit uncertain, almost paranoid. All of those scary stories did tend to leave me a little on-edge, even if I wouldn't admit to it.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Hello, Arron." He sounded happy, as usual.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Ezekiel?" I had repressed what happened for a while, and since he never called again until now, it wasn't something I had braced myself for.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Yes. How are you? How is Sammy?" It's like he forced himself to remember everything from our last conversation, or simply never forgot. It was crazy.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Uh. I'm fine. Sammy's fine too. Though she won't," I pulled the phone a bit away from my mouth to shout at Sammy. "COME INSIDE!"

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Oh."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was still wary of Ezekiel, but it was pretty cool to me now, since it was related to my interests. "Yeah. She can be a real pest sometimes." I spoke as casually as I could.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...That's a shame."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Sometimes I wish she would just..." I was about to say I wish she would just listen, when I trailed off, watching Sammy flop into the snow. Great, now I had to go out after her. I reluctantly put my shoes on, and walked out into the yard.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Okay."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">He spoke meekly, like a child who had done something wrong, and I just didn't understand. "I gotta go." I ended the call, and shoved my phone back into my pocket, running over to where Sammy was lying. "Dammit, dog! What are you doing? It's freezing outside!" Her fur was dusted with snow, and her tongue was lolling out, which I first noticed, was gray, and not pink. Her eyes were open, but pointed away from me. Her tail didn't even move as I approached her. I reached my hand down to pet her, to try and get her motivated, but her body was cold. I thought she was just frostbitten, from having been outside for so long, so I tried to pick her up. Her body flopped as I did, lifeless...she wasn't breathing. I let go of her, and took a few steps back, in shock, before running off towards the house. I called my Mom, begging her to come home from work, Sammy was dead.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">He called me again that night, once my Mom had calmed me down, and I had gotten into bed. I was reluctant to pick up, but after the first four rings, it became annoying, and I turned the phone on speaker, not saying a word.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I thought you would be proud of me...I'm sorry."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I sighed, and hung up the phone, dropping it on the floor beside my bed.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was still fourteen, though the third time, it was in the spring. I had gotten into a fight with my Mom about me being behind in my homework. I was clinically depressed, and on three different pills for it, though sometimes they just...didn't work. I took too many days off of school, many of them just because I wasn't up to it; I just wanted to stay in bed. He called me on one of those days, and thinking that it was my Mom, calling to bitch at me some more, I sighed and turned it on speaker, setting it beside me. "Whaaaat?" I groaned.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was half-asleep, and didn't even really have it in me to hang up, but I knew that voice right away. His voice never changed, it was always so childish, almost innocent sounding. "No. My Mom's being a bitch." I complained absent-mindedly.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I'm sorry. Do you need help?"

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Yes, sometimes I think I do need help." I rolled my eyes, and pressed the end button.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Seven hours later, my grandparents were at my house, packing all of my things to come live with them. My Mom was in a car accident on her way home from work. I was the last to know about it, and I was glad that this time, I wasn't around to see it.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fifteen years old. I dropped out of school by now, but living out in the country helped me quite a bit. The fresh air, being away from people, and not to mention my Grandma's home cooked meals...it helped a lot. They always coddled me, since I was the only grandchild, and I was thankful for that.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was 6PM. I was throwing on a light jacket, and putting my boots on by the door. "Ma, I'm goin' for a walk. Be back soon." I shouted out to her, walking out the door and down the stairs of the porch, I could only faintly hear her shout back "Watch out for wolves!" which is what she said every time. Never in all of my time here had I actually seen a wolf, and I'm fairly certain the howling she's always going on about is that of the neighbor’s dog.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">It always smelled like freshly mowed grass here, with the lingering scent of cows, though it was bearable when you weren't too close to any of the farms. I decided to walk to the willow tree and back, which was only a mile. I shoved my fists in my pockets, and started off, looking up at the sky as I did so. You could see every one of the stars out here, it amazed me even now.



<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">Once I got to the tree, I leaned against it, just listening to the sounds of crickets chirping, moths flapping their wings around the old, buzzing streetlamps. I just closed my eyes for a minute, and sighed. It was so serine here, I loved it. I don't know how long I stayed there, but I was jolted back into consciousness by a vicious bark. It wasn't a wolf...it was, in fact, one of the neighbors dogs. It was standing a few yards in front of me, growling with its fur on end. The farm dogs never socialized with other humans, all they know is one thing, and that is to protect their property. I took one look at the dog, and was frozen in panic, until it dashed for me. I tugged at the branches of the tree, trying to climb up the trunk, but to no avail. The dog jumped up, and grabbed the leg of my pants, pulling me down and grabbing my leg. I screamed out for help, flailing my leg wildly, trying to get the dog off of it so I could hopefully run away...it just bit down harder, growled louder, and ripped at my flesh. My eyes were closed shut in pain as I screamed louder, feeling my voice start to fade...until I heard a sharp yelp, and the dog was off of me. I quickly scurried to stand up, though the pain in my leg was too much to put pressure on it. I stared at the dog, lying on the ground, with claw wounds over its abdomen, leaving a large puddle of blood underneath it.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...I'm sorry."

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">The voice was close now, though I didn't even have my phone with me. I looked up from the dog, and standing on the other side of the tree was what I knew was him. He was at least seven feet tall, and his skin everywhere but his face was dark black, rotted, and covered in dirt. His arms and legs were incredibly long, and his hands had long, ivory claws, that curled, like overgrown human nails, dripping with blood. His face contrasted his body. It was pale white, and he had two, big, round eyes, with no pupils, glowing in the light of the streetlamp. His mouth was permanently curled into a smile. He didn't open it when he spoke. His wings were those of an insect, and I hadn't even noticed them, until he jumped, bending his long limbs, and flew up, above the tree. He landed on top of it, crouched over, tilting his head at me.

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">"...Do you need help?"

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">I stared up at him, mouth agape, for what seemed like forever. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't any more. My leg wobbled, and eventually I fell back down, wincing at the pain in moving my leg again. He slowly crawled down the tree, and onto the ground, reaching out to touch my leg with the palm of his rotten hand. It didn't hurt when he touched it. Nothing hurt any more. I smiled up at him, and he helped me up, picking me up and sitting atop the tree with me. We stayed there all night, laughing at nothing in particular, watching the stars together. When my Grandma came, yelling my name early that morning, I didn't leave Ezekiel's arms. He took me to play with Sammy, and to see my Mom, it was great!

<p style="margin:12pt0in;line-height:15.75pt;"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-family:Helvetica,sans-serif;">She found my body next to that tree.