First, it starts out as my simple question. “Which is the best water pump for a freshwater tank?”
But then . . . then I scroll for a bit.
FishKiller1234: You people are idiots! Poisoned by your own selfish, debaucherous desires. Repent now, or you will turn into the fish monsters. To learn more, follow me on Facebook.
TankNerd1979: Dude, relax. Maybe you need to take a trip to the pharmacy to refill your meds. I have an aquarium because my kids like it. Do you think my kids will turn into fish monsters too, you fucking nutter?
FishKiller1234: THE CHILDREN ARE IN DANGER. To learn more, follow me on Facebook.
I shake my head. Fucking hell.
And even though I may have technically met my own fish daddy, these messages are starting to piss me off. FishKiller1234 doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. In fact, he’s spouting nonsense all over the internet, and I, for one, won’t stand for it.
I muster up the courage to hit reply. I know replying to people who are off their rockers is like shouting into a void and expecting it to answer back, but I just can’t stand for it anymore. The disinformation is frustrating. We just want to talk about our fish and be done with it.
As I type, my hands shake lightly. I’m not used to this kind of public confrontation.
JulesLikesToSwim: @fishmonster1234 And so what if there are these so-called fish monsters among us, huh? They aren’t coming into the forums and harassing people. They aren’t posting insane messages every single day to disrupt our usual conversation. I don’t see any fish monsters acting as CEOs of any petrol companies or snatching up any children or working on the police force. So what if there are “fish monsters” among us? Let them be! They aren’t hurting anyone. Live and let live, my man.
FishKiller1234: YOU’RE ONE OF THEM. WE’LL FIND YOU AND ELIMINATE YOU FOR THE SAFETY OF ALL. To learn more, follow me on Facebook.
I sigh when I read the response and shake my head. He can’t be fucking serious? But, of course, he is. And I didn’t expect anything better.
But then, another message pops up on my screen. A new person on the forum.
AverageJoeGuy: Hey, are you okay?
I glance around my apartment. I haven’t showered again. Although, at least I took a bath the other night. Still, as usual, my skin is grimy. I guess that’s just a thing now. The clothes I wore to Mack’s are still on the floor. I haven’t bothered to pick them up. It reminds me that I’ll probably never see him again.
My phone is also on the floor at three percent battery because I’ve been staring at it for so long, willing Mack to reply. Which, of course, he hasn’t. I want to send him another message, but I can’t yet.
Why am I so desperate?
And my desk is covered in coffee-smudged mugs and empty ramen bowls.
So . . . am I okay?
I don’t know. You tell me.
A part of me is a little alarmed by this message. Usually, I would just ignore it. It’s rare that I want to bring new people into the fold of my life, even through a forum conversation. Mack was an exception because his first message made me laugh.
Mackthefishguy: Welcome to the forum. Are you originally from Freemont?
JulesLikesToSwim: Yep. You?
Mackthefishguy: Finland
JulesLikesToSwim: Really? Wow, you’ve come a long way.
Mackthefishguy: No, sorry, actually, I was just making a joke. I’m not really from Finland. I’m from Freemont too.
So, I almost don’t reply to AverageJoeGuy. But then, my eyes survey the scene again. One more time but through a different lens.
You’re brave, Jules. Talk to a goddamn stranger.
I click the Reply button and type back.
JulesLikesToSwim: Are you asking because only a person doing exceptionally poorly would try to have a real conversation with FishKiller1234?
AverageJoeGuy: Yeah. Pretty much. I get that FishKiller is an annoying guy. But I wouldn’t say he’s entirely crazy. You know?
I narrow my eyes. What the fuck does this guy know?
I drum my nails against the only available surface on my desk before replying.
JulesLikesToSwim: You can’t tell me you believe in fish monsters?
AverageJoeGuy: I do. And I think you do also. But my only question is . . . why?
JulesLikesToSwim: I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, buddy.
AverageJoeGuy: I’m not trying to be weird. If anything ever starts to feel off . . . though? Maybe you’re experiencing something you can’t explain. Just know that I have answers.
My pulse races. I don’t like what he’s implying. Of course I’m experiencing things I can’t explain. That’s how anxiety works. Panic disorder. Agoraphobia. And I don’t want to talk to this guy about it.
JulesLikesToSwim: Whatever you say. Goodbye.
I click off the screen, but that doesn’t feel like enough. I completely shut down my computer.
