Please Don't Text Momo

The biggest thing going around the internet right now was Momo. It was a girl with bulging eyes that seemed to have no eyelids, a pointy chin, stringy black hair, and a menacing Chelsea looking grin. Apparently, if you have the WhatsApp, she has a phone number and you can text her. If she responds, she will know everything and anything about you, personal stuff, and she'll follow it up with an amount of insults and disturbing, graphic photos. It started as an urban legend, until I was dared to text her myself.

I was a twenty-two year old junior in college at the time, and this took place over Christmas break. I had thrown a small get together at my apartment. Most of the people were my friends, others were actually people I couldn't stand. They'd took it upon themselves to invite each other over when they heard about it. After slowing down a little bit on the drinking and a really long game of Cards Against Humanity later, Chaz, football jerk number one, mentioned the WhatsApp, which was just a boring old texting app that people whose phones are turned off from not paying the bill use. That's what I had assumed at least. Until Brad, football jerk number two, mentioned Momo.

I had never heard of it at the time. Chaz was going on about how he messed with some girl using the app and she got so mad, she wanted to call the cops and report him but she couldn't because he'd used the app to talk to her, and the number on there wasn't his real cell phone number. Brad shut him up with the Momo topic, and even showed everyone the number you could text on the app and explained the whole legend behind it, saying it in such a way it was freaking the other girls out, especially after he showed them the photo on the profile.

"That's the most photoshopped thing I've ever seen," my boyfriend, Danny said, reaching over to take the phone to study the photo more. "And this is supposedly a cursed number?"

"Yeah, people say if she replies she really starts to mess with you," Brad said, glancing at me with an arched eyebrow.

"It sounds like a hoax," I stated. "Besides, that girl in that picture is someone's sculpture in Japan. Someone found it and is using it to mess with people like this."

"So text her," Brad encouraged with a grin. "Since you're not scared. I have the real number, so you should get a response. You don't even need the app." I didn't even hesitate to take my phone out and copied the number from Brad's phone. Quickly, I typed my message and hit send.

Hi, Momo

Silence. For hours. I wasn't surprised. I knew Brad was trying to prove a point, prove that he could prank everyone, including me. Danny even believed a part of it, the story, not the picture. To me, it just sounded like the Bloody Mary and Candyman legends that never worked. Brad wanted updates if I got a reply. I knew I'd be rubbing it in his face when I'd tell him it was fake. He was almost wanting to stay over at my place just so he could see if I got a text or anything, but Danny sent him on his way. Brad had to drive the drunk Chaz home anyway.

The next morning, I was taken back by a text from the strange number on my phone. It was received at two in the morning. I didn't open it until I had my coffee in me and got Danny sent out for work. I felt chills go through my body when I read it.

I see you

My fingers were quick to type.

You see me?

I see you. Moron.

More profanities followed, ones I don't even want to repeat. I furrowed my brows and started to reply and before I could even finish my "are you real" question, she answered.

I'm real

I was at a loss for words. I ignored it for the rest of the day, trying to convince myself it was one of Brad's friends messing with me. But how could they know what I was gonna say? Unless someone was an extreme hacker and could see my phone screen or something. I decided I was just being paranoid and continued on with my day.

Two days went by with nothing more from Momo. It could've been because I hadn't replied and didn't want to give Brad something to gloat about. He'd been hitting me up, along with Danny, but I told both of them nothing. But the curiosity was killing me inside. So I texted Momo once again.

Is this a prank?

Who are you?

What do you want?

Nothing for hours. Around three in the afternoon, I got my response but it confused me more than anything.

I'll meet you downtown at the restaurant. Supervisor is making me stay an extra hour. Sorry to keep you waiting, sugar.

Danny had just sent me that text an hour ago, and now Momo had sent it and it was word for word. I sat there for ten minutes, just thinking about this whole thing, nearly biting my nails bloody. Then, something dawned on me. Danny could be playing a prank on me. And it wasn't funny.

That night, when I met him at the restaurant for dinner, I was a pistol. He was about to greet me with a smile on his face and I shoved him back.

"Are you messing with me?"

He stared at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you pretending to be Momo? Or are you and Brad trying to screw with me together?"

Danny was completely silent for a few long seconds, before asking, "Did you get a response from Momo?" I avoided his eyes and he reached for me. "Why didn't you tell me? Is it that serious that you're ready to slug me in the face?"

"It's freaking me out, okay? I don't know if it's real or if it's a hacker or just Brad being Brad." I exhaled. "Can we just go home, please?" He nodded and got a cab to take back to the apartment.

I started to heat up leftovers after Danny ran to go buy himself a pack of cigarettes at the kiosk on the corner. I heard my phone bing with a text and I was very, very hesitant to look at it. I reached for it on its charger and checked the text from Momo.

Don't let the food burn, baby

My heart dropped. I felt like I was going crazy. That's the last thing Danny had said to me before he left. I didn't even think I could wear any kind of poker face when he got back. He was the last person I wanted to involve in this. Bing! Another message came up underneath the last, at least thirty seconds later.

Nice try, dipshit

I jumped the second my phone started to ring. I felt like I was gonna faint when I saw Momo's name on the screen. She was calling me. She was calling me and I had no idea what to do. I knew what I should do though. I hit answer and held the phone up to my ear, goosebumps beginning to cover my whole body and I could feel like legs begin to buckle.

"Momo's coming."

It was high pitched, eery voice, no one I could recognize at all. No one I knew could fake their voice in such a way. Momo hung up and there was a loud banging at the front door, making me jump with a shriek. I froze where I stood before I made myself slowly step toward the door. I yanked it open quickly and exhaled heavily in relief to Danny, his face bright red from the cold weather. He made a face at me as he stepped inside.

"Sorry, I forgot my key and I locked the door behind me. Are you okay?" Before I could answer, he could already tell what was up. "Momo?"

I nodded. "I got a phone call, saying she was coming. What does that mean?"

All he did was shrug. "I have no idea, and let's hope we don't find out."

Days went by with nothing more from Momo. I didn't even try to texting her or anything. I wanted it to end. The only thing I received was a picture. It was graphic, and there was a lot of blood. That's all I could say. When I got off from work and was headed home, Momo called me again. Afraid to answer, I glanced around and saw I was in a crowded part of the city and bit the bullet. It was Danny. I could hear Brad in the background.

"Hey baby, Brad and I are on the way home from the bar. Don't wait up, I know it's been a stressful few days which is why you should get some sleep," Danny said. I tried to say something but Brad was talking.

"I can't believe these streets are this icy," he groaned.

"Yo, slow down." There was silence for a moment, before I heard them both let out a yell and I heard a loud screech followed by a bang and the phone hung up. I stood there, completely lost. What had just happened?

Whatever you do, don't try texting Momo. It's not a joke at all. It's completely serious, especially when you get ahold of the right number. Momo really does mess with you, makes you question everything. Danny and Brad were involved in an accident. I was on the phone with Danny when it happened. He said he was on the way home from a bar, and Brad was complaining about the icy roads. The call cut out right after I heard the collision. Officers told me they slid through a red light and were plowed down by a semi truck, practically impaling them into the car, so much that if paramedics tried to remove them, they'd be dead instantly. They died ten minutes after the crash, the crime scene photos matching the one Momo had sent me.

If it wasn't for Momo, Danny would've gotten home that night, and they both would have been alive. I took a lot of time off work to grieve, and didn't show up to classes when school started back up in January. I destroyed my phone, and got a new number. I tried to avoid a lot of apps, or using my phone period. I got one last text from Momo right after their funerals that will forever make me shudder, anytime I think about it.

Sorry to keep you waiting, sugar.

#creepypasta #scarystory #urbanlegend #momo #whatsapp