Anon

THE SPECIFIC sound of that notification sent excitement throughout my veins; the kick was stronger than two cups of coffee.

I knew it was from him— the only one who I talk to online. I took my phone on the bed and opened the message.

When can we meet?

My heart did a back flip and then, there was a series of flashbacks.

It was inevitable, for this kind of question will lead you to calculate how long your relationship was with that person and how deep it was, for you to finally decide on something that you know could change your life forever.

Anon and I met in an online anonymous chatroom, a month ago. It was one of those cold lonely Saturday nights, the kind of night when I just wanted to talk to someone who doesn't know a thing about me.

I was sitting on my bed and was actually on the verge of throwing my laptop (because of the numerous chats I had that ended abruptly because of perversion and boredom) when fate let us meet.

He typed in complete words— a specific requirement that I was looking for. We talked about specific interests and what we do in life. Interestingly, we have similar tastes and we're both college students.

Anon likes Vladimir Nabokov and M&M's, hates loud music and phone calls. The list of similarities of hates and likes lead us to transferring to another app that allowed us to send messages anytime we want.

He has proven that he's sensible and is a good conversationalist during our late night exchange of messages. Both of us agreed with staying anonymous— no sharing of real names (we agreed to call each other 'Anon'), no sending of selfies (because we both dislike selfies), no sending of address and stuff that could probably ruin our online relationship now— so we could comfortably share about our little secrets.

Turns out, we're both in a broken family, enduring our step-parent and sibling's presence every single day.

God, is that a sign?

Is he The One?

Speaking of step-sibling, the rock music coming from Kian's room made me return to reality.

Distractions are not welcome during my sacred time with Anon so I left my room for a while and knocked on his door. He didn't open it so I tried turning the knob. It was open.

Kian was there, in his unicorn onesie, in front of the computer playing something that was probably considered now as a sport. He's older than me, but he's annoyingly immature.

He turned to my direction as he popped some Combos inside his mouth and then, turned off the music.

"Can you lower down the volume when you play your music? The lack of sound-proof walls, remember?" I tried not to sound like an annoying step-sister from a Disney movie but I guess I just did.

He didn't answer. Ugh, what an insensitive weirdo.

I shook my head before I head back to my room. I sat on the bed and stared at my phone thinking of an answer.

We were both okay with staying anonymous until... this.

Why? I messaged him.

His reply came after five minutes.

I want to talk to you in person. I think, it's about time.

Then I thought of the morbid news about eyeball-gone-wrong wherein one is a psycho, rapist or whatever kind of bad guy. I know being paranoid is a little normal these days; after all, these bad news are legit.

What if Anon was a psycho?

But then, I wanted to see him too.

Is he cute?

Is he really the kind of guy that I imagined him to be?

Curiosity won. I said "okay" so we decided on a date and time. 

I called my friend, Vee, and told her about this. She told me that she'll follow us like a stalker for the sake of my safety. The bad guys are just around waiting for their next prey and I surely don't want to see myself as a victim in the next news headlines.

THE NEXT SUNDAY morning, we were to meet in a park. Mom and Step-Dad were out. Step-bro probably went out too, haven't seem him at home the entire morning. Vee and I met up fast and she told me she'll hide somewhere close to check out on us.

Gladly, there were people around so it will be a little difficult for him to do something bad. It's an open space so Vee and I could shout for help. Also, I have a pepper spray inside my body bag.

Eleven o'clock— Anon and I texted what we were wearing. I was in a Nirvana shirt and jeans. I did Chun-Li buns with my tresses, something that I did for the first time. Nothing to impress my chatmate, but I think it was better to look like this.

He said he was wearing a red cap, black shirt, jeans and red sneakers. Nothing too impressive as well. Just simple, which I actually prefer.

I messaged him that I was already near the fountain. Staring at the water made me awfully think of a toilet bowl.

My stomach churned.

God. Anxiety sucks.

I accidentally pressed the call button. Hearing a ringing sound behind me, I dropped it immediately.

"Anon?" I heard him say.

He's.

already.

freaking.

here.

I mentally jumped due to nervousness and excitement but I didn't forget to place my hand inside my bag to hold my weapon. Well, just in case... y'know.

I turned around and my heart leapt.

...And off it went till it hit the freaking ground.

Kian was standing there in Anon's clothing combo; his puzzled expression was written vividly on his face. The phone on his hand fell as my heart sunk in disbelief.

Memories of candy-sweet chat messages melted into an acrid reality.

A nightmare—

No.

It was a real horror story.