Aim For The Heart My Bloody Valentine

I practically snorted with laughter when I saw the Six Flags old guy appear in the web cam box. Commercials sometimes played while the images are loading. I got myself all worked up on see Mr. Puppet Master that seeing a creepy bald guy scared the pa-tooty out of me. And then after a moment of my laughter and the bouncy tune of the commercial, the screen finally gave way.

In the box on the screen appeared a young man. His room was dark, the light of his computer screen being the only thing to illuminate his hauntingly pale face. His hair was tousled; a more controlled version of Edward Scissorhands if that makes any sense. He had a strong face, at least from what the computer light would allow me to see. His eyes seemed steely, but I believe I can see some light in there. I think his eyes are black, although it is entirely possible it’s just the poor lighting again. I continued to study him, questions racing through my mind. How old is he? Is his hair really black? Why is he staring directly into the camera? Did he just wake up or is he some smelly guy who doesn't take baths or comb his hair? Where does he live? I wonder why he...

"When you're done staring off into space, you might want to do something about your head."

Huh. What a random voice. Was it him? That was as deep as I thought...

"Huh?"

'Very, very, intelligent there.'

I lifted my hand to my head and brushed my forehead. Resting calmly on my fingertips was a crusting blob of blood. I simply grabbed a few tissues from the Kleenex container next to me and wiped it off. What can I say? I'm not surprised.

When I had tossed the reddened tissues in the trash bin, I looked back at the screen. He was very patient, he didn't have a single look of annoyance on his face; not even worry.

"Better?" I asked, quickly checking myself for anymore sneaky blood spots.

"I suppose." Wow, a man of words. A cha cha.

"So... um... hi?" I asked awkwardly.

"Hi."

I glared at the screen. We weren't going anywhere with the one word answers. I was hoping he'd at least say it in an unsure way so I could make fun of him. Oh wait, that’s a good idea right there.

"Not much for talking are you?" I asked. I love my brain sometimes; random thinking could be useful.

"Not really."

Fuck. He did it again.

"Fine be that way. I'll do the honors of asking cause you haven't; what’s your name?"

He paused, as if in thought about how to answer the question.

"You can call me Marc. And you?"

I paused. Not because I was thinking of if I should lie or not, just to copy him.

"I'm Laila. Nice to web cam you."

"Feeling is very mutual." He looked directly at the camera again. It creeps me out a bit, like he'll just know if I lie.

"So... who hurt you? Is your hair really naturally red? How old are you? What city do you live in? Why are you different? And why shouldn't I kill you?"

Well, hello there! Assault of the questions indeed. I took a moment to process that he said more than 2 words. I still realized though he'd asked some seriously personal questions. And even though my instincts were screaming "predator! Motherfucking predator run!” I still felt that this lion wouldn't bite me if I showed myself.

"Hmm. Father, which is typical. No, it's permanent die. Got a rib broken for that. 17. Berea, Kentucky, it's greenish here. I'm different because I can... and I don't know why you wouldn't kill me? I'm like one among the zits on a teen’s face that could be wiped out and no one would notice. Cept the teen. He might be like, ‘Holy shit! I lost a zit!'"

And this is why I shouldn't let my mind wander...

Instead of ending the chat immediately and never talking to me again like most sane people, he simply nodded and sat back in his chair. And it didn't look like he'd be talking again.

"Um. Looks like you’re done. It's late anyways. G'night?" I didn't want to say ' talk to you later' because I don't know if I ever will.

"Leave the web chat on. You can go to sleep. I'll watch for your father."

My eye twitched. What was that about?

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm going to watch over you tonight. I have a feeling is all..."

And that sounded final. But... as strange as it was... it was an endearing thing. What is wrong with me? Not even God knows the answer to that enigma. And so I left it on, camera getting a good view of my small room, bed and door. And I simply collapsed on the bed and let the sandman have me. I had a murderous angel watching me tonight.