There's room at my table, why don't you pull up a seat - Unfinished Symphony-E5-I Don't Like Mondays-Prelude

He sat in front of his computer and thought.

It was almost 5 in the morning and sleep wasn't coming anytime soon. He knew his mother would up to get ready for work in a few, and that meant throwing the covers over his head and pretending he was asleep until she left. Until then, he just sat there, and thought.

He had made a complete fool out of himself the day before with Sandy, and the feeling of absolute shame refused to lessen even a little bit. He hadn't been ready to run into her at the mall like that, he had just stopped by to see if the new action figures he ordered had come in and there she was.

One of prettiest girls in school to be sure, she was surrounded by the entourage of lesser pretty girls that seemed to be handed out to the prettiest ones the first day of school. They were all walking and talking and texting and all that and he hadn't seen them. And they certainly hadn't seen him. He spun when he heard the noise, but it was too late. Sandy collided with his right arm, that was holding the coffee that then exploded like an American action movie bomb. It was like in slow motion, the coffee spraying outwards, covering them all with the frozen concoction, their eyes closed and mouths open in mid scream for one horrible moment frozen in time.

And then time thawed quickly.

Their screams ricocheted across the mall, they sounded like a pack of high pitched hyenas screaming for a mate. He had just stood there, face slackjawed, mouth open in an almost comical 'O' of surprise and shock. The four of them were holding their hands out, trying to gauge the coffee damage on their outfits when Sandy looked up at him.

He had known Sandy since 3^rd grade. They had always been in the same classes for years. She lived a few blocks away and when they were smaller, and things like social standing didn't rule your life, they were friends. He had imagined her to be his girlfriend when he was 7, and though ten years had passed since that thought was formed, he still somewhere thought it. Even though she never talked to him again after asking her to dance in the middle school dance when the Spice Girls came on. Even though she laughed at the thought he would walk up and ask her and her friends again the ones that were passed out in middle school, laughed with her. He thought he would never feel as bad as this moment in his life.

He had been wrong.

“Oh my god”, she screeched at the top of her lungs, “What in the hell!!” Studies have shown nothing cuts through a crowded din of noise like a woman's voice. There is something about the pitch and timbre that sets it apart from all other noises and grabs your attention. Sandy had grabbed the mall's attention. “You retard!”, she continued holding her dripping arms away from her soaked dress, “You think you can stop masturbating long enough to look where you are going!!”, he wasn't sure how she thought he had been masturbating while walking and holding a coffee but the crowd seemed to think it an amusing thought. She leveled a look at him and he felt himself shrink another foot in height easily, “Why don't you grow up, stop stalking me and kill yourself!!”, and then to her friends, the mall or the universe in general, “Why do the creepy ones have to like me?”

The now coffee stained pack of girls moved around him and away as fast as they could muster, leaving a confused and entertained mall to point and laugh at him. He turned around and tried to say he was sorry, but they were gone, and he was appalled.

He had been in his room since. Not coming out to eat or talk or anything. His mother was a trauma nurse at the local hospital so she hadn't even noticed her son's disappearing act. Which left him alone, awake and in front of his computer.

Wondering how he could die.

He had gone to several sites reading up on suicide, but the majority of them were advocating against it instead of being instructional guides on how to accomplish it. He had finally given up and was browsing the message boards for suicide victims who had survived. He was hoping one of them would explain the method they had tried and why it hadn't worked; he was hoping with a little work he could perfect it on his own. His eyes were growing tired and he was about to give up when he saw one of the posts.

RE:Hanging by a rope

Ready to give up? Can't find the right way? Try this.

http://www.geocities.com/corpusdawg2002/thecompany.html

He looked at it twice, he was sure it hadn't been there when he scrolled down before. But then again he was falling asleep so what did he know? He clicked the link and his screen lit up suddenly. His room came alive with strobing lights as he stared into the computer, his mouth open in shock. As he sat there a kind of smoke flitted out from the monitor, like a thing alive it curled outwards from the glass screen towards his mouth. In a very delicate move, one that could not be supported by random movements of air, it curled its way up his chin and then into his mouth.

He closed his mouth quickly and began to choke.

He fell to the ground, his hands on his throat. He hacked and coughed as if he was trying to swallow a broom whole. His face became red and his eyes watered, and slowly but surely he stopped moving and struggling, and laid perfectly still on the floor. His eyes slowly closed.

And then opened straight up.

He rose from the floor with an almost mechanical grace. He gathered himself up straight as a rail and looked around the room. He grabbed a solid metal bat, the kind one uses when they want to really send a ball flying. He walked over to the computer and stared at the screen. It began to flash again and he nodded to it and said softly, “As you command.” The screen went blank.

“What are you doing?”

He turned and swung in the same motion. The sound of the metal bat connecting with the woman's head was dull and wet. He heard a slight crack as he neck moved upwards at an odd angle, her body fell as if a puppet cut from its strings. He looked down at the body of the dead woman and smiled, that was one.

As he walked over her body and down the stairs he hummed a small tune to himself. He saw a female jogger coming down the street as he closed the door to the flat behind him. He hurried his step to meet her as she passed.

That was two.

To be continued.....