Socially Constructed pt.3

The paranormal activities of the strange being confirm to me me that it isn’t just a bored teenager making prank calls. After all, it disappeared from the alleyway, something which proves impossible for any regular human being. Also, they held a striking resemblance to me and the note they handed me anchors the idea that I am dealing with something otherworldly. At this point I am so consumed with fear that my whole body is numb. But what do I do now? I can’t tell anybody. No. I don’t want to come across as a crazy person who hallucinates and hears voices. It’s something I need to keep to myself.

Then, like a standing ovation to an inspiring speech, the hairs all over my body rise and a startling chill glides across my skin. Through my own use of the internet, I have created an entity that reflects the thoughts and interests of well… me. But not the actual me. The version I like to portray to other people. The quiet, vulnerable and shy version of myself has a shadow. An impulsive, cunning and shadier shadow. The online version of me is nothing like the actual me. The fact that this once virtual persona now exists as a living being could have detrimental repercussions on my life. It is basically a living version of my subconscious, except with no morality. The most daunting thing about this whole situation is that this mysterious entity knows me inside out. From the public statements I make on social media, to the private conversations with my friends and loved ones. Nothing is hidden. Everything is exposed. I shake my body to alleviate the feeling of numbness and jump out of my bed – with my desk as my hopeful destination. Prevention is better than cure. If there’s nothing to hide there’s nothing to expose. I must delete everything from my laptop.

If anybody could see me right now they would think I had just gone twelve rounds against a heavyweight boxer who had slugged the life out of me. Knocking down everything in my way, I stagger towards my desk, pull my laptop out of the top drawer and rip it open at the hinge, almost snapping it in half during the process. Somehow amongst the chaos I manage to type in my password correctly. Where do I begin? A factory reset seems like the best option. In fact no it doesn’t. If I reset it to factory settings, the content isn’t fully deleted. I need a more permanent option. After doing a search for effective methods of thoroughly restoring a computer it’s clear that there isn’t much I can do on my own. Think, think, think. Then it clicked. Conveniently a hardware store had opened not too far from where I live. Surely they must be able to perform some kind of military style reset which will no doubt eliminate the entity. It’s worth a shot. The only downside to this is that there’s no way that the store would be open at this time of night. Sleep is a must.

The idea of sleep is a lot easier than the reality. As I close my eyes I see bizzare things. The encounter in the alleyway, the caller ID when my phone rang. But nothing scares me more than the look on its face, the look of emptiness and death. Being in a dark room doesn’t help. The fact that this thing could be hiding anywhere unnerves me. After all, it did disappear when I first saw it, so it must be able to appear wherever it wants to. By the time I had realised this, all hope for sleep was lost. Feeling sorry for myself I sit on my bed staring into the darkness. I am a sitting duck.

A loud beeping noise fills the room and my eyes are pulled towards a new source of light in the room. My laptop screen. My skin thickens as I wait in anticipation for what’s due to happen next. This is when writing appears on the screen.

“I TOLD YOU BEFORE. YOU CAN’T TERMINATE ME” flashes on the screen. This triggers a reaction in me. The fight or flight reaction. But this time, my reaction wasn’t to hide from the situation. No. I’ve had enough of this thing messing around with my head and I need to put an end to it. Throwing my bed covers onto the floor I spring out of bed and yet again, make my way to the desk. I bang my fist on the keyboard and attempt to type back to this entity. My attempt was fruitless. The screen just fades back to black. At this moment in time I feel defeated and have no other motive other than to rest my head in my hands. Slowly but surely I begin to drift into a soothing sleep.

Once I realise I am unconscious to the world I awake in a flurry to notice that the room is filled with a bright light, and birds can be heard chirping outside. Wow. I slept through the whole night. Slightly confused I look over to my bed to see that the covers are still on the floor, reminding me of the events from the last night. In an attempt to forget what happened I make my way towards the bed and pick up the covers but what I see on the floor causes me to freeze up.

A note written in the same handwriting as the initial note handed to me by the entity. It reads “some shadows stick around during the darkest times”. Even more weird, the note contains a time and a date, which happens to be today, and 9pm.


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Music and Creativity

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