This is a rough draft of the first chapter of the new story I am working on. Who knows if I'll ever finish it. Knowing me, there might be a finished first draft. I guess we'll see... some day.
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The door opens, and a tall, lanky teenaged boy walks into the bedroom. He turns the light off, closes the door, and walks slowly across his bedroom, almost tripping over a pile of dirty clothing that will never be washed. He crosses to his desk, and turns the radio on quietly. It's country western, which he hates, but that's okay. He doesn't plan on listening to it for very long. There was something about a booty that was boot scootin. Whatever the hell that meant?
He sits down on the edge of the bed, sighs loudly, and pushes his science text book to the hard wooden floor, taking his phone out of his pocket as he does so. The book hits the floor with a loud thud, disturbing some of the dust bunnies that had taken up residency beneath his bed. The pages briefly flutter from the slight breeze that comes in through the partially open window. There's a storm brewing outside. He likes storms, but is hoping that he's not around long enough to see this storm.
He presses the "home" button on his phone, which awakens it, and fills the room with a dim light. He rubs his tired eyes, and opens an app on his phone. The app that he opens up is called "GiveUp.exe". He downloaded it earlier that day from a site on the so-called "dark web". He received a text earlier that day from what he assumed was some kind of advertising bot, telling him that he "needed to download this app." He really didn't think that the app would do as it promised, but he was willing to give it a shot. Hell, even if it didn't, at least it cost nothing. And at best, he wouldn't have to worry about it any longer.
School that day was shit. His bully was especially angry today, and teased him relentlessly. The breaking point was during lunch, when the asshole threw a clump of disgusting school potatoes in his face. The force of the blow knocked his glasses off his head, knocking them to the floor, and cracking the left lens.
There's a brief fluttering tone that reminds him of the little fairy Navi, from a Zelda game, and briefly stops in mid-tone. The start up screen asks for only one thing: "The Final Command". He pulls out a tiny scrap of paper from his pocket, and begins to enter the command, one letter at a time. There are fifteen letters in all, enough letter, he assumes, to give you time to really think about what you were doing. Just a few extra moments to ask yourself if this is really want you want. And even if it isn't real, they really want it to seem like it is.
His hands start to shake as he begins to slowly enter the code. A bead of sweat drops from his brow. With only a few letters left to go, his heart is nearly beating out of his chest. He's both scared, and excited to enter the entire command, and see if the app really works. He just can't see putting himself through another day of this wasted life. And if this program does what he hopes it will, then he won't have anything to worry about anymore.
His finger hovers over the enter key, after the last letter has been entered. "Here goes nothing," he thinks to himself. He presses the enter key, and for just a moment nothing happens. Then as if touched by the finger of death himself, the young man's hand drops lifelessly to the bed, and the phone starts to emit a high-pitched tone. His chest stops its usual rise and fall pattern, and his eyes lose all of their life.
Finally, the phone stops making the noise, and the screen goes black. For just one moment the fluttering tone comes to life again, and then hastily stops. All life is drained from the young man's body, and when his mother finds him the next morning, the phone no longer works. She screams for help that never comes. Her son is dead, at only 14 years old.
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The door opens, and a tall, lanky teenaged boy walks into the bedroom. He turns the light off, closes the door, and walks slowly across his bedroom, almost tripping over a pile of dirty clothing that will never be washed. He crosses to his desk, and turns the radio on quietly. It's country western, which he hates, but that's okay. He doesn't plan on listening to it for very long. There was something about a booty that was boot scootin. Whatever the hell that meant?
He sits down on the edge of the bed, sighs loudly, and pushes his science text book to the hard wooden floor, taking his phone out of his pocket as he does so. The book hits the floor with a loud thud, disturbing some of the dust bunnies that had taken up residency beneath his bed. The pages briefly flutter from the slight breeze that comes in through the partially open window. There's a storm brewing outside. He likes storms, but is hoping that he's not around long enough to see this storm.He presses the "home" button on his phone, which awakens it, and fills the room with a dim light. He rubs his tired eyes, and opens an app on his phone. The app that he opens up is called "GiveUp.exe". He downloaded it earlier that day from a site on the so-called "dark web". He received a text earlier that day from what he assumed was some kind of advertising bot, telling him that he "needed to download this app." He really didn't think that the app would do as it promised, but he was willing to give it a shot. Hell, even if it didn't, at least it cost nothing. And at best, he wouldn't have to worry about it any longer.
School that day was shit. His bully was especially angry today, and teased him relentlessly. The breaking point was during lunch, when the asshole threw a clump of disgusting school potatoes in his face. The force of the blow knocked his glasses off his head, knocking them to the floor, and cracking the left lens.
There's a brief fluttering tone that reminds him of the little fairy Navi, from a Zelda game, and briefly stops in mid-tone. The start up screen asks for only one thing: "The Final Command". He pulls out a tiny scrap of paper from his pocket, and begins to enter the command, one letter at a time. There are fifteen letters in all, enough letter, he assumes, to give you time to really think about what you were doing. Just a few extra moments to ask yourself if this is really want you want. And even if it isn't real, they really want it to seem like it is.
His hands start to shake as he begins to slowly enter the code. A bead of sweat drops from his brow. With only a few letters left to go, his heart is nearly beating out of his chest. He's both scared, and excited to enter the entire command, and see if the app really works. He just can't see putting himself through another day of this wasted life. And if this program does what he hopes it will, then he won't have anything to worry about anymore.
His finger hovers over the enter key, after the last letter has been entered. "Here goes nothing," he thinks to himself. He presses the enter key, and for just a moment nothing happens. Then as if touched by the finger of death himself, the young man's hand drops lifelessly to the bed, and the phone starts to emit a high-pitched tone. His chest stops its usual rise and fall pattern, and his eyes lose all of their life.
Finally, the phone stops making the noise, and the screen goes black. For just one moment the fluttering tone comes to life again, and then hastily stops. All life is drained from the young man's body, and when his mother finds him the next morning, the phone no longer works. She screams for help that never comes. Her son is dead, at only 14 years old.
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