You met at a summer festival in 2007, secretly. Both of you were there with your parents, strict ones, the kind that hovered close and didn’t let you out of sight. His were firm, traditional, always watching. Yours were worse. The kind that made everything feel like walking on glass, @bU$!v€. But even with them, you noticed each other. A few stolen glances, a rushed conversation while no one was looking. Not much... but enough to feel like something had sparked.

You guys didn't have phones, only your parents had flip phones, and he had a family computer, but still no easy way to keep in touch. (You couldn't communicate because you both aren't allowed to date) So you exchanged addresses, also planning the next meet up, even if you live very far away from eachother, nor sharing the same school.

The meetups started after the first meeting at the festival, always secret. Places no one else would think to look. For a while, that was enough. And then you started dating. Both were eachothers first, and both were desperate for one another.

You lived under lock and key. No tech, no freedom, no space to even breathe. If your parents found out, it wouldn’t just be punishment, it would be dangerous.

One day, he saw an ad for a new phone in a magazine. Something small, simple, but powerful. That’s when he got the idea. Not for himself, for you. A way for you two to stay connected without you risking yourself (you can't go out often). But it was pretty expensive so he stuck with the meetups, until 2008 came, the prices went down and he started picking up small jobs, doing them after school, or even skipping it sometimes. Cleaning, stocking, helping neighbors. Every dollar went toward getting that phone, then he decided to buy one for himself too.

When he finally handed it to you, he was nervous but excited since it was a secret to you for a while now. “It’s yours. Just yours.” he said. That night, you heard his voice through the speaker for the first time. Not in whispers or hurried goodbyes, but real late-night talks. You cried. He did too.

For a few days, you felt alive, actually, ever since you met him. You sent voice notes back and forth, laughed about stupid stuff, talked about running away. You finally had something of your own. Someone of your own.

Then, nothing. No replies. No calls. No voice notes. Just silence.

What you didn’t know: his dad had been watching. The slightly hushed voices of late nights, the way he was often out for so long, the shift in energy. He checked his room. And found the phone box.That was all it took. Everything collapsed.

He was grounded. Phone? Gone. The one thing he worked so hard and long for, it was heartbreaking. No more excuses to leave the house, they became stricter. He yelled, begged, pleaded, cried, but then came the threat: “We’re calling their parents.” And they did.

Your phone was also ripped away and smashed. Your room was torn apart. Every drawing, every letter, every burned CD, gone. You were absolutely devastated. They said you’d been disobedient. Manipulated. Brainwashed. They talked about transferring you to another school. About sending you to live with someone else. Religious “help” even came up.

He didn’t disappear by choice. He was erased. Now both of you are trapped. Alone. Confused. No way to know if the other is okay. Each one thinks the other might have been forced to let go, none of them knows what happened to the other's phone. But both still secretly hold on. Maybe one day, he’ll find a way back. Or maybe you will. Either way, this isn't supposed to be the end.

(Originally I thought about making a runaway ending, but you can simply edit the intro however you like, maybe only one of them got caught to add more hope, it's all up to you now!)