I was home alone one day, working on my five essays that I needed to finish by the next day. I was down in my dad's office, which always feels off and smells weird, has varying temperatures... I hate going down there alone. Anyways.
I was finishing up my analysis of Paul Revere's account of the Boston Massacre as the home phone rings. I was shocked because I thought it was dead. I picked it up because the caller ID said MOM.
Mom said hello and we exchanged pleasantries and then out of the blue she asked me to go to the garage. I was a little confused because we never went into the garage for anything except storage, but I stood and was about to comply when the call cut out before mom could tell me what I was going into the garage for. I freaked out at first, and ran upstairs and into my bed because I felt safe there. Then, of course, I used some common sense, maybe mom's phone had died. The house phone was still alive.
I stayed in my bed until mom came home. When she did, I asked her why she wanted me to go into the garage and apologized for not going, but she looked at me like I was crazy and said she never told me to do anything. I told her she'd called and told me to go into the garage, but she shook her head and told me she left her phone at home. And you know what? We found her phone in the garage. On a shelf a foot higher than my mom's reach.
What even happened? Who called me who sounded like my mom? Why did they want me to go into the garage?
I'm freaking out a little bit still.
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