The Choking Kind

2 - Jameson

TWO DAYS AGO: THURSDAY

I stared at the flashing cursor on my computer screen. It was nearly three in the morning. I wanted to pretend I was strong enough to ignore the feeling of hopelessness that seared my gut. As her message popped up on my screen under the comment section of her latest entry, I couldn't fight the urge to respond immediately.

SeXXXySadist: I feel you staring at my words, undressing my feelings with your eyes. ;)

I rubbed my palm along my jaw before typing out a response.

PeepingThomas: I didn't think you'd be on tonight.

SeXXXySadist: Want to go private?

I sat back in my chair, tipping a fifth of Jack to my lips. I'd been talking to S.S. for six long months now. It began as a joke. I was messing around on the computer as I drank myself into a stupor. I stumbled upon Reveal, a new social network, from a spam email asking me to join. At first glance, it was like any other site, mundane updates about everyday life, but I soon discovered there was a darker undertone to the words on the screen.

I had clicked on a status, linking to a blog entry titled Little Girl Lost. My heart sank, but I soon realized it wasn't a missing child post at all, but something a little more twisted. It was about a girl missing her sanity and acting on the depraved nature of her psychotic fantasies.

A private message had popped up on my screen from S.S. asking me why I was sitting back and watching and not chatting with the other perverts asking the post's author to commit immoral acts for their enjoyment. That's how she'd gotten her name. She was a watcher, like me. Curiosity had pulled her into the site as well, and we both seemed to have gotten lost, tumbling down the rabbit hole of immorality.

I clicked the private chat icon, and her chat message popped up before me.

SeXXXySadist: I missed you.

PeepingThomas: I know.

SeXXXySadist: Did you miss me?

PeepingThomas: You already know the answer to that.

SeXXXySadist: I want to hear you say it.

I smiled to myself before typing out a response.

PeepingThomas: If you want to hear me say it, give me your #. Let me hear your voice.

The minutes passed by like hours—nine long, excruciating minutes. Anything can happen in that amount of time. Life can be created or lost, and feelings can spark or dissipate.

SeXXXySadist: I can't.

PeepingThomas: I'm falling in love with you.

Her response was immediate.

SeXXXySadist: Don't do that.

SEXXXYSADIST IS OFFLINE

I tipped the bottle to my lips again but didn't stop pouring until my lungs burned for air. This was us. This was our routine. I'd told her that I was falling for her, and she disappeared—a ghost in the machine.

I pushed from my desk and plopped down on my couch, the remote in my hand, as I clicked mindlessly through the channels. My eyes kept darting back to the laptop, hoping there would be another message soon. We'd played these games before. Perhaps she really was a sadist because she had to be getting some sort of pleasure from hurting me this way. But I knew she was afraid to get close to anyone. We shared that common fear, yet here I was, inexplicably obsessed with this stranger.