If You Start Receiving Helpful Messages at 3:17 AM, Do Not Answer
The migraines started three months ago.
At first they felt normal.
Pain behind the eyes.
Sensitivity to light.
Exhaustion.
Nothing unusual.
The doctor called them stress-related.
I believed him.
Then the messages started.
The first one appeared at 3:17 AM.
I don’t remember waking up.
I only remember finding my phone in my hand.
One unread message.
From an unknown number.
You forgot to finish the report.
I should have been scared.
Instead, I was confused.
Because I had forgotten.
The report was due the next morning.
I finished it.
The migraine disappeared.
For a while.
The next message came two nights later.
Your friend is lying to you.
It included screenshots.
Private messages.
Things nobody should have been able to access.
Things that turned out to be real.
The friendship ended.
The migraine disappeared again.
Soon I started waiting for the messages.
They were useful.
Helpful.
Efficient.
Whenever one arrived, the pain eased.
Whenever I ignored one, the migraine became unbearable.
So I listened.
The messages solved problems.
Finished projects.
Found missing documents.
Warned me about mistakes.
Saved me time.
Saved me money.
Saved me embarrassment.
It felt like something was helping me.
Then the tone changed.
Your sister doesn’t respect you.
Your coworkers talk about you.
Your father hides things from you.
Your friends only tolerate you.
The evidence always looked convincing.
Screenshots.
Audio recordings.
Fragments of conversations.
Enough to make me doubt.
Never enough to prove anything.
One by one, people disappeared from my life.
Arguments.
Accusations.
Distance.
Silence.
The migraines became rarer.
The messages became longer.
Last week I asked a question.
The first question.
Who are you?
The answer arrived instantly.
The reason you let me in.
I didn’t sleep that night.
Or maybe I did.
I can’t tell anymore.
Yesterday I found unfinished work on my computer.
Perfectly written.
Submitted.
Sent.
Hours before I woke up.
The timestamps prove it.
I checked three times.
This morning I received another message.
Not on my phone.
On my laptop.
Everyone thinks you’re getting worse.
A second message appeared.
They’re discussing you right now.
A third.
Open the camera.
I did.
I wish I hadn’t.
The camera showed my room.
My desk.
My chair.
Me.
Sleeping.
The timestamp said it was live.
My migraine is gone now.
Completely gone.
I haven’t felt pain in days.
That’s the problem.
Because tonight, at 3:17 AM…
I received one final message.
You don’t need the migraines anymore.
You trust me now.
And for the first time…
the message wasn’t sent to me.
It was sent from my phone.
The Shadow Always Returns. 🖤💀