MY NEW SMARTWATCH KNOWS THINGS I HAVEN’T TOLD ANYONE.
It started subtly. Reminders popping up: “Don’t forget Mrs. Gable’s cat is allergic to lilies.” How did it know about the flowers I planned to send?
Then came the health alerts. Elevated heart rate exactly when I was thinking about *him*. The one I swore I’d forgotten.
Yesterday, it flatly told me, “He still loves you, Sarah.”
I ripped the watch off my wrist, convinced it was hacked. But when I tossed it on the nightstand, the screen flickered to life.
Now, it’s showing a live video feed from across town – his apartment. And he’s looking right at the camera. ⬇️
My breath hitched. He, Liam, was sitting on his worn leather armchair, a half-empty bottle of scotch beside him, his usually vibrant eyes shadowed with a weariness I hadn’t seen in years. The video wasn’t crisp; it was grainy, almost surveillance-like, but undeniably him. He looked up, directly at the unseen camera, a flicker of something – confusion? Fear? – crossing his face. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the smartwatch’s insistent hum.
Panic clawed at my throat. This wasn’t a coincidence. This was… invasive. A violation. I grabbed my phone, my fingers fumbling as I dialed my best friend, Chloe.
“Chloe, you won’t believe this,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “My smartwatch… it’s showing me a live feed of Liam’s apartment. It knows things… things I haven’t told anyone.”
Chloe, ever practical, responded with a measured, “Sarah, are you sure it’s not some app? A glitch?”
“No! It’s… it’s showing him right now. He’s looking directly at… something.” The image on the watch shifted slightly; Liam seemed to be reaching for something on the table. My stomach lurched.
The next few hours blurred into a frantic search for answers. I contacted the manufacturer, only to receive a dismissive automated response. The tech-savvy Chloe dug into the watch’s software, but found nothing unusual. It was as if the feed, the unsettlingly accurate predictions, were coming from a source beyond the device’s capabilities.
Suddenly, a news alert flashed across my phone. A break-in at Liam’s building. A suspect, described as a tall, lanky man, had been apprehended. Liam was unharmed, thankfully, but shaken.
The smartwatch remained silent. Then, a new message appeared: “The threat is neutralized. Data purge initiated.”
Relief washed over me, quickly replaced by a chilling unease. The watch had acted as a protector, a mysterious guardian angel. But why? Who – or *what* – was behind it?
I contacted Liam. His voice, thick with exhaustion, confirmed the break-in, but he didn’t mention the strange coincidence of the smartwatch’s predictions, or the live feed. He was simply glad to be safe.
Days later, the smartwatch went completely dark, a lifeless black rectangle. I never found out who or what had been watching us, who had intervened, or why they had chosen to shield us. The experience left me with a lingering sense of unease, a profound understanding of the unseen forces that might shape our lives, and the unsettling knowledge that some things are better left unknown. The mystery remained, a quiet hum beneath the surface of normalcy, a reminder of the unseen currents that flowed just beneath the placid surface of everyday life. The ending felt strangely complete, yet acutely incomplete, leaving a lingering question mark in the silent aftermath of the digital intervention.