I flinched, and drew the phone away from my ear, yet the high-pitched shriek that greeted me continued to echo through my head. I quickly hung up, and my girlfriend must have seen the troubled and baffled look on my face. "Who was it?" she asked.

I could not answer her right then, as I had not fully interpreted her question to me. My mind was suddenly fogged - my ears ringing, and my nose beginning to bleed as I frantically searched for a method of response. Although her attention was directed at the television, and not me, I could sense her longing for the question to be answered.

I subconsciously thought back to an old Twilight Zone I had seen years before, an episode that always found a way to resurface inside the vast minefields of my memory. In this specific episode, the main character was a middle-aged man on the brink of insanity who receives a phone call from extra terrestrials. The aliens were attempting to communicate with the man, trying to inform him that he was perfectly sane, and it was the Earths remaining population that was in need of psychological therapy. Once the aliens had established the man's trust, they had then sucked the brain from the man's head, and ate it, using the telephone receiver as the primary tool. Each time the aliens called the man, he complained of a brief, high -pitched shriek - almost a scream greeting him on the other line.

"What's the matter?" my girlfriend asked. She must have seen the terror building on my face. "Who was that on the phone?"

I still had no answer for her, as she gazed at my face. Her concern was growing, and moments later she stood next to me, trying to calm my obviously worried mind. Sweat was accumulating on my brow, and my hands began to shake.

"It was a loud beep, dear," I said, making a poor attempt to ease her worries. However, I became more aware with each passing second that it was not just a loud beep, but aliens - with an appetite for my brains. I swallowed hard, trying to mask my fear.

"Nothing to worry about," I assured her.

"That's it?" she asked, looking at me as if I was embarrassing her.

"You're freaking out over some idiot sending a fax to the wrong number," she said, as she turned her attention back to the television.

"Typical," she added, and shook her head.

I began to question myself, worried that an honest mistake such as a misdialed number was troubling me so. I tried to relax, tempering the thought of aliens sucking my brain from my head, as I sat back down on the sofa, and redirected my attention to the basketball game. The phone rang again.

I immediately jumped to my feet, glaring at the phone as if it were the first sign of the apocalypse. Terrified of answering it, yet wanting to confirm what I had heard before, I extended my hand down to the receiver as my girlfriend rolled her eyes, and averted back to the game.

I slammed the phone down upon receipt of another deafening shriek. My heart began to race as I searched the annals of my conscious for rationalization. I had come to the conclusion that the aliens had indeed found me, and were preparing their feast.

I had convinced myself to refuse any calls, and were it not for my girlfriend's presence, I might have ripped the telephone wire from the wall. My brow was saturated again as I stumbled for rationality. It was then that I realized my girlfriend had asked me a question.

"What?" I asked, my eyes wide with terror. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, annoyed. "Nothing," I said, as I tried in vain to disguise my fear. "Who called?" she asked.

"Nobody," I stuttered. She resigned back to the sofa, with a look of honest concern and disgust. Just as I wiped away the perspiration from my face and neck, the phone rang again.

I leaned slowly towards the ringing phone, aware of the beings on the other side of the line, and their deadly intent. I proceeded cautiously, remembering that it was the third phone call that had been the man's last. The third call was the deadly call. My girlfriend walked briskly past me toward the receiver and picked it up, groaning with contempt.

"No," I said, "It's the aliens, don't answer!"

"Hello," she said, answering the line. She immediately flinched from the receiver, and I remember thinking she finally knew what was on the other end of that cursed phone. I feared the aliens had gotten her by mistake, and guilt overwhelmed me.

"Ugh! Bloody idiots," she said, and hung up the phone. I was too terrified to speak.

"What is so hard about dialing ten digits? She asked me, "Don't they know how annoying that sound is?"

"You mean," I swallowed, "It was just…another fax machine?"

"Yeah, just another idiot," she said, flustered and angry. "I swear - idiots are taking over the Universe," she said, unplugging the line, and sitting back down.

I couldn't help but notice the irony, "Yes we are," I said.