Crimson typed fast into her chatbox. It was a new online chat that she discovered. One stranger was immediate to respond.
Crimson laid her back on her computer chair. The same screen that illuminated her mind was illuminating the room as well. She blinked a few times, questioned a few things in her head. Who is this stranger? A friend or foe? Or was it really Death himself?
The question was racing over her mind, slowly taking over her consciousness. And at the exact time, her parents were downstairs having the usual heated argument. The yelling. The screaming. The sound of glass bottles breaking. Nothing seemed new to her world. It was the same old same old.
That’s a cute name, Crimson thought to herself. A faint smile appeared on her face after that response. She continued typing…
Crimson paused, her eyebrow raised in slight doubt as she started to think who sat two seats behind her in Physics. She had no clue who did, no matter how hard she tried.
Bingo. He scored a point for that.
Crimson looked over to her cellphone that had a case encrusted with cheap plastic jewels. She hadn’t made any call that day. She didn’t call him. She focused back on the chat.
Scrolling upwards to see the previous messages, Crimson was slightly afraid.
Perplexed, with sweat slowly dripping from her forehead, Crimson felt her chest tightened. Is this Jasper a student from her class? Was he or wasn’t he? She grabbed her cellphone in frantic and quickly texted her friend, Alice: Do you know anyone who sits 2 seats behind me in Physics?
Her screen lighted up as a notification popped.
Crimson let out a nervous laugh, hoping to calm her nerves. All this seemed like a sick set up by God-knows-who.
She felt the pain from the cut under her sleeves as she read that line. Her heart throbbing in fear of her dear life, or her… sanity. She grabbed the Ethernet cable from the sockets on the wall and yanked it hard until it came off.
She felt relieved in an instance. Her phone vibrated again. It was a text from Alice: No one’s sitting there. It’s an empty chair.
By Serena Lynn