Short Story – The Phone Box

The Phonebox

A warning tale for Key Stage 2 children

With trembling fingers, Simon lifted the receiver and pressed it to his ear. There was, to his dismay, no dial tone. His heart sank. Making a phone call had seemed like his only option. Now he was stuck in this dismal phone box during the worst night of the year: the wind howled, rain lashed down and mist clouded the horizon. Simon didn’t know what to do.

He was just about to leave the phone box when, all of a sudden, a buzzing noise from behind startled him. Curious, he turned around. What was making that sound? Simon couldn’t believe it – it was the phone. It was ringing!

Cautiously, he picked up the receiver and listened.

“Don’t leave the phone box,” came a voice down the line. “Trust me, you don’t want to.”

Gasping with shock, Simon let go of the receiver which crashed down and smashed in two. A million thoughts whirled around his head. Why did the phone ring? How did the mysterious caller know he was there? What would happen if he stepped out of the phone box? Something, somewhere inside him told Simon this must be a hoax. A trick designed to scare him. And anyway, he had to leave: there was no way he was staying in a solitary phone box all night.

Tentaviley, Simon placed his hand against the cold door and pushed. It was hard work. The door was pushed back by the howling gale. It took every ounce of Simon’s strength to force the door open, before he could step into the monsoon-like weather.

There he stood surveying the scene around him. There was nothing and, more importantly, no-one to be seen. No buildings. No lights. No life. Just a phone box, the pot-holed road and an old oak tree perched beside the road.

Simon knew he had no option but to start walking for home. The trek would be long and arduous, yet it was doable and his waterproofs would protect him against the harsh weather. With this in mind, he set out step-by-step into the maelstrom.

Before too long, something tickled at his mind – a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. He sheltered for a second under the oak tree while he thought. Then it dawned on him. His wallet! He had placed it on top of the phone casing before trying to make the call. He had to return to the phone box.

Back against the wind he struggled to once again reach the phone box. Just as he closed the door, something startled him. An almighty crash roared through the storm. Simon’s eyes opened wide as he realised what had happened. The oak tree, beneath which he had just stood, had blown over.

Then another sound crackled through the phone box. It came from the broken receiver swinging freely from its chord.

“I told you not to leave the phone box.”

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