Phantalament
(joining of phantasm & lament) the sharp disappointment of realizing you weren't in another world... you were only reading
It all made sense now. The perfect ambushes. The timely attacks.
It was him.
He'd been playing me all along.
Betrayal pierced me as I stared into cold blue eyes. Regret, disgust, and hurt warred inside me, battling for dominance.
But on my next breath, another emotion burned those down to ash, leaving nothing but resentment.
"Why?" I whispered, my voice quivering with ire.
A cool smirk tilted his lips as he watched me fall apart. His icy eyes gleamed like he'd been waiting to deliver this blow since the beginning.
"You wondered once how villains were made." His tone was like smoke; light with a touch of dark. It pained me to hear the familiar tenor. Only this time, there was a subtleness of cruel satisfaction. "It's because one self-righteous person presents themselves as a hero, and suddenly, their sins are forgiven." He paused, staring at me with an expression so harsh, I'd never unsee it again. "But anyone with a different sense of justice- who challenges their edicts- becomes labeled villainous. Tell me, would you still see me as evil if my name were spoken with awe and admiration? Or would you recognize them as lies?"
Fingers trembling, I flipped to the next page in haste, needing to learn Amira's fate, only to discover it was over.
"No!" I groaned and plopped onto my pillow, covering my face with the book.
Each passing second brought me back to reality, and a sharp ache settled deep within my heart.
About the Creator
B
I have a few stories and poems inside me that I want to share. Maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll reach people who'll enjoy them. 📖
The Message I Received at 3:17 AM That Changed Everything
It was 3:17 AM when my phone buzzed. I wasn’t expecting any messages at this hour, and yet, there it was—a notification that made my heart skip a beat. The sender’s number was unfamiliar, a string of digits that didn’t seem to exist. At first, I thought it was a prank or a wrong number. But as I stared at the screen, a shiver ran down my spine. The night was silent except for the faint hum of my air conditioner. I had been reading on the couch, a cup of coffee growing cold beside me, when the message arrived. The glow from the phone screen illuminated my face in the otherwise dark room, and the words on it were simple, yet terrifying: “I know what you did.” My first reaction was disbelief. Who could know? And what exactly did they mean? I quickly checked my call log, my messages, even my social media—but nothing seemed out of place. My mind raced through every memory, every small secret I thought I had buried safely. Nothing made sense. I tried to brush it off. Maybe it was just a spam message, or someone trying to scare me. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the unease. Another buzz. Another message. “Check the drawer under your desk.” I froze. My desk. The one place I kept my old journals, letters, and random keepsakes. Hesitation gripped me, but curiosity got the better of fear. I walked over to the desk, my steps slow and deliberate, trying to avoid making a sound. The drawers were ordinary, the top one containing my stationery. But the second drawer… it was slightly open. I hadn’t left it that way. My hands trembled as I pulled it fully open. Inside was an envelope, yellowed with age, no name on it, no stamp. Just my initials written in hurried handwriting. I picked it up, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. The envelope contained a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was familiar—it was my own. I had no memory of writing this letter, yet reading it sent chills through me. The message inside described events from a week ago, tiny choices I had made, conversations I had forgotten… and ended with a warning: “If you ignore this, everything will be revealed.” Panic set in. I checked the room again. Every light, every corner, every shadow seemed alive. The air felt heavier, as if something unseen was watching me. My phone buzzed again, this time with a single word: “Now.” I didn’t know what to do. Should I call the police? Should I delete everything? My instincts screamed to run, but I couldn’t leave the envelope behind. Something about it demanded attention, a silent command that I couldn’t ignore. Slowly, I unfolded the paper again. The words seemed to shift, almost as if the letter itself were alive. Memories I had blocked came rushing back—the lie I told my best friend, the small theft at a local store I thought no one noticed, the message I sent to someone I shouldn’t have. All of it documented here, perfectly detailed. How was this possible? How could anyone know so much? Suddenly, the room’s temperature dropped. My breath became visible in the faint light of the phone. I thought I saw a shadow move in the corner of my eye, but when I turned, nothing was there. My phone buzzed once more. Another message: “You can’t hide anymore.” Fear turned into a strange clarity. I realized that this was more than a threat—it was a reflection. The envelope, the messages, the unknown sender… it wasn’t about someone else. It was about me. About the parts of myself I had ignored, the secrets I thought I could bury, and the truth I had avoided facing. I spent the rest of the night going through everything I had ever hidden, every journal, every memory, every tiny choice that made me who I was. By morning, I felt exhausted but different. The fear hadn’t disappeared, but it had shifted into understanding. I couldn’t change the past, but I could face it—and maybe, just maybe, write a better future. To this day, I don’t know who sent the first message at 3:17 AM. Some nights, I still feel the chill when my phone buzzes, a reminder that the past never truly leaves us. But I also know this: sometimes, the scariest messages lead to the most important revelations. And every time I think I’ve escaped my past, I check my phone… just in case.
By Baseer Shaheen a day ago in Fiction
Comments (18)
Quite the application of a word! Not only give a definition, but let us experience it first hand! Belated congrats, Brin!
This is really good writing! very engaging. Great 1st person voice. Good luck with your book;)
I feel like I spend my life in this constant state. Actually, that's not true - only certain books. When I do get phantalament, it's like coming out of daytime nap in the sun. All woozy and a little disoriented!
How did I miss this, what a fantastic word!
As usual... I'm behind the times, reading stories from previous months...but they don't go stale! I can see why this placed in the comp... Phantalament is a great word & meaning... I regularly experience it... it's so sad to farewell such good friends & fun places etc.
Wow 💯 Interesting. Im interested
This was stunning...so relatable...and well done on this placing, again apologies for only getting to it now. I'm so delighted you got some recognition for your awesome work, Brin!
This was freaking amazing, Brin!!! You had me lured right in, and I felt every letter of your word spelled out all over the page. I know I've experienced phantalament sooo many times. Excellent work, congratulations on placing in the challenge, my friend :)
I was on the edge of my seat when your story ended!
Ha! Spot on. We definitely needed that word. Congratulations on placing 🥳 Now I just need to think of a word for when you don’t enter reality and live most of your life in your head, as if you are in a book 😂
Yayyyyy congratulations!!!
Great word and excellent writing!
Congratulations on the runner-up win!!!
You're a magnificent storyteller!
Cool concept! Cooler story!
Omgggg I was so immersed in that story and really wanted to know what happens next but you brought me back to reality! And now here I am, phantalamenting! Loved your word and story!
Cliffhangers! The bane of every following week (or whatever interval the serial takes).
Fantastic!!! Loving it!!!