Author's note: KJ-52's song Fanmail
SuicidalBeep, beep, beep! The sound of Kevin Jacobs’ strained alarm clock woke him. He rolled sideways and turned it off quickly. 7:00 A.M! He’d forgotten to set his alarm clock for his new earlier work shift. He’d be late for work- again. He flew out of bed and flashed on his dorm room light. Trey, his roommate, groaned and pulled his pillow over his head, blocking out the pale morning light. Kevin felt no remorse for waking him up. A perfect rich boy who had it all set for him, that’s all he was. He could wakeup early every once in a while.
Kevin returned home again late that night tired and frustrated. Eerie lights and shadows filled his room as the headlights of a passing car temporarily illuminated it. It passed, and the room returned to it’s original emotionless black. The window creaked as wind blew viscously outside. Was there a storm coming? He did not know. All he knew was that he was exhausted and hungry and in as bad a mood as ever. Why did everything have to turn out so wrong? He couldn‘t have stayed though, not in that house. Not to see her like that. She was weak- frail. She wasn’t even the same person he‘d grown up to with. She was just there. “You see,” he said to himself, “you had no choice but to leave.”
“Trey?” He called out in half whispered voice. No answer. “Trey, you here,” he tried again. Still no answer. He walked towards his bed, carefully so as not to step on the mess that had become their floor thanks to his roommates thoughtlessness. He fished under his bed for his laptop, and when he finally found it, he flipped it open, expecting the light from the screen to push away the sense of foreboding that was now invading him like it pushed away the darkness around him. It didn’t. Playful shouts, originating from some immature teens outside, drew his attention for a brief second, but he quickly tuned the distraction out. It only added to the haunted feeling this room seemed to have so suddenly developed. “Open, open, please!” He whispered at his computer as if it could hear him. It disregarded him. Moments later, it finally loaded and Kevin hurriedly typed his six letter password in: IWASYOU. His mother had made it for him, and to him it did not make any sense at all. He never thought to change it though. She was the one person in the world he trusted and he dared not delete his one small connection with her. Internet Explorer, Google (his homepage), Yahoo, Yahoo mail: Kevin navigated to his Email. He typed in his Email, Kevin.Jacobs21@Yahoo.com and logged in. Two new messages greeted him. Or was there just one? He clicked on the first. It said:
Hey Kevs, this is Dad. I’ve tried to call for the last few weeks now. I know you want nothing to do with me, but please, for you’re mother’s sake, call back.
“Delete,” Kevin said to himself as he dragged the email to the trash icon. He smiled humorlessly. He hated his father. It wasn‘t even that he was mean or unfair- just incompetent. He had failed so miserable and for that Kevin wished never to see him again. His attention was again captivated by the computer screen. Was there another one? It drew his interest immediately.
The content read as follows:
I know you, and you know me,
We grew up together or was that a dream?
You must be thinking, why does it write in rhymes.
Because I need an escape, and I can escape in these lines!
I scream! I beat! I hurt! I fall!
It seems, defeat, it works, it calls.
My mind, it”s driven so mad, so hazy
By stress, from work, like you… I”m crazy
Shade me, or at least… tell me what to do
Because I am me, and you”re you
I ran away, far away from home
Now I am in this world, hurt and alone.
Help me, Kevin, you don”t know who I am,
But help, of all people, I know that you can.
Kevin read it over again, his heart beating fast. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously and looked back at the screen. A car passed by, again illuminating his room for a moment. What to write, what to write! His normally deft fingers fumbled over the computer keys, typing out a short message.
Who are you? Don’t be afraid Im hear to help. Your life is valuable,, please dont take it. What has driven you so far. What has happened that has got you feelin this way. Before you do anything too yourself, atleast write me. I am a friend…. I can relate, I can help.
Kevin stopped writing, and looked up. Was that good enough? He hoped it was. It didn’t even really sound like him. He added one last thing
I just have to ask you this one question. Of all people,…. why me?
He read over it once more and hesitantly clicked send. As soon as the message sent, he slapped the computer shut. His hands visibly shaking. He rested his hands on his palms trying to steady himself. “Why me, why me?” He asked over and over again. Hours later, when he finally fell asleep, he still hadn’t answered that question