Forget about Jason.
Men are dangerous. And I don’t want any in my life.
The only thing I want is to hide. And to breathe.
Chapter 3
There’s drama on the Freemont Aquariumaniacs Forum today. Big drama
I slouch in front of my computer screen, crunching on Froot Loops, empty coffee cups crowding the surface of my desk.
I installed a padlock to the inside of my front door this morning. Ordered it online, watched a tutorial, and did it myself. I haven’t seen Jason because I’ve stopped going out for coffee every morning. Instead, I ordered coffee grounds from the grocery store online and then had someone deliver them directly to my house. The coffee’s not the same, but at least I don’t have to go outside to get it, shrinking my world down by approximately half.
I’m wrapped in a blanket, dark green and warm, and the blinds are drawn, but the sun’s not up yet anyway. I don’t think, at least. I’ve lost track of time. Is it morning, is it night? I’m not sure. My hours are off. I’ve been avoiding sleeping.
Every time I doze, I wake up the same way. Dying for breath.
I scroll on my computer and pass the pop-up ads for natural gonorrhea medications and foot fungal treatments to read the never-ending list of messages on the Aquariumaniacs forum.
Where are the mods? Why are you allowing this psycho to ruin our forums? AquaFriend2023 writes. Her post has three hundred likes.
Free speech is a human right! Let them talk! Clownwithafish writes. His post has nearly the same number of likes.
There’s a debate going on about a new user. Specifically user FishKiller1234. Definitely an interesting choice for an aquarium forum, but I suppose it’s no worse than JulesLikesToSwim, which is my own username and also a blatant lie since my own flippers haven’t seen a body of water in years.
FishKiller1234 has been posting some very incendiary comments on forums the last few days, and they’ve got everyone in a tizzy.
It started out small, with just a few posts.
Hello everyone. I’m FishKiller1234, and you all need to be very, very afraid on these forums.
People took the bait and responded.
What are you talking about?
Afraid for what?
The only thing I’m afraid of is using the wrong method to adjust my CO2 levels.
After a few days, FishKiller1234 went away, but then they returned.
You fish people are extremely sick. You should shut down this forum right now. Do you know what’s happening to regular, normal humans now?
Another poster bit, responding again.
We’re keeping our aquariums appropriately clean?
But FishKiller1234 wasn’t having it.
No, you’re turning into monsters. FISH MONSTERS.
I laughed out loud when I read the post, wiping away the dribbles of milk on my chin. Fish Monsters is honestly hilarious. Because what even is a fish monster? Kate might know, given her love of the supernatural.
But reflexively, my mind wanders to the picture from Mack.
Was that a fish monster? Does FishKiller1234 know something . . . ?
Their newest post is from this morning.
Please remove yourself from these forums and repent. It’s the only way you won’t mutate into fish monsters. I have proof of these monsters. They live among us and they’re dangerous. They want our children. They want our homes. They start out just like us, but then, slowly, they’re tempted by their unclean desires to turn into fish. And then they transform into their final forms. FISH MONSTERS. They walk among us! Message me and I’ll show you. Or join my Facebook group.
A message pops up on my screen. It’s from Mack. I nearly jump out of my seat.
Ever since that picture, I’ve been avoiding Mack. I’ve been avoiding everyone really. I have four missed calls from my mother and one from Kate. My mother . . . well, that’s just par for the course. I haven’t spoken to her in months. Kate, on the other hand, will call back.
Part of me doesn’t want to talk to Mack, but another part of me is missing him just a little. Okay, fine, missing him a lot.
So sue me. Who knew there was a part of me that liked to flirt? That was still reaching out for human contact.
I hem and haw in my computer chair, the rusty hinges creaking loudly as I rock back and forth, and then, finally, I open the message.
The picture still freaks me out, yes. But surely, a reasonable explanation exists for what I saw. There are always reasonable explanations.
What harm could talking to someone do? Mack doesn’t know where I live, and he doesn’t know my full name. And vice versa.
And weirdly, I really do miss him.
Mack: Are you okay? Haven’t heard from you in a few days. Did the fish monsters get you?
