Turn Out The Light
I don’t have much time. Forgive me if this ends up being incoherent or short. I only can tell you the main details.
It started earlier this evening, right? I was on my computer, as I usually am as of an evening. Everything was going normally. I was messing around on Omegle, just chatting to random people on text chat, a bit of trolling, a bit of a laugh. Nothing unusual.
Until the fifth or sixth person I was connected to. The best thing to do here is to copy-paste. I don’t have time to go through it all bit by bit.
Stranger: I take it you’re bored, yes?
Me: Why else would anyone be on Omegle on a Friday night?
Stranger: That’s a good point. Did you enjoy your Chinese food?
Me: How did you know I had Chinese food? Lol, just a general guess, probably.
Stranger: Yeah, everyone I’ve met tonight seems to have had Chinese food. It must be a Friday night thing for young, mid-twenty-year-old men like yourself.
Me: You sure like your generalizations.
Stranger: Well, I’ve been doing this for a while. A certain type of people come on here. I like the type of people that come here.
Me: What do you mean by that?
Stranger: I’m not sure. I just find them … enjoyable.
Me: Weird way of putting it.
Stranger: What makes you feel safe behind a computer screen? The fact that you think no one can see you? That I can’t see the way you’re sitting with your left hand on your face? Your cup of coffee to your right? The green and black T-shirt you’re wearing? Why are you wearing a cap indoors? You should turn your kitchen light off, too, you’re wasting energy. Go on, do it. I’ll wait.
Me: What the fuck, dude? Who is this?
Stranger: Turn the fucking light off.
Me: Or what?
Stranger: Lazy, eh? I’ll turn it off for you, then.
I logged off at this point - he was a freaky fucker and I thought he was having a laugh. But then, my kitchen light went off. I tried to convince myself that it was a power outage, but the charging icon on my laptop didn’t go away. I’m convinced I can hear something in my kitchen. I don’t know what’s going on.
How could this happen? Is it someone playing tricks on me? I know otherwise … I know too much about this sort of thing, don’t I? I told too many people. I thought I was passing on stupid urban myths but obviously not. Innocent mistakes usually cost everything.
I could hide, but I’m sure he could find me. I don’t know. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.
It can’t be. It’s impossib