Part 3. For Part 2, see yesterdays journal.
Email #1: Jesus fucking christ this had better not be a joke, FUCK! What the fuck, Jesus man, what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? You fucking IDIOT! What the FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR! YOU FUCK! FUCK YOU! FUCKING MORON! I swear this had better be a joke...FUCK!
Email #2: I hope this is a joke. That last Email was a knee jerk reaction...You have to be alive, or else that pic wouldn't have been on your site. But, is it real?
If it is, Look, Ive been there before. I almost did it myself. I haven't really talked about it before. One, It never really came up in conversation...fuck, even if it did I probably wouldn't have talked about it. Its not something you want to do man, Jesus.
Listen, if you want to talk, you know how to get ahold of me. Incase you lost it, my numbers XXX-XXX-XXXX, Im here all the time, after 3 call XXX-XXX-XXXX, Extension XXX. You have to talk man. Even if we dont talk about this. Talking helps.
I gotta go. Its late, and Ive been up for a long time. I really hope youre allright man. Call me. Night.
Email #3: OK, if this is some sick fuck who killed my friend, and took over his website, youre in for it, fuckhead. you fuckinggn maianac, you will get it. fucking sick bastaterd, you didnt now whwo youre fucksng wtht.
Uh, if oure alive man, disregard thisa one. Its rally late. i dont knwow whtat Im typei here. fuck i have to go to sleeep.
He rubbed his eyes. He was really fucking tired...hed been typing and pondering the situation for three hours...his eyes were dried and weary. His stomach was empty. it ached, and was twitching. his wrists were killing him from typing so much. He hadnt gotten any information from anyone...none of his friends roommates were online, and even though he checked every 5 minutes, no one had responded to any of his emails. This was one of the most intense things hes had to live through, but the fact remained. He needed to get some sleep. He couldnt physically keep going on.
But he couldnt stop thinking. He laid in bed for 40 minutes, and even though he was worse for wear before he hit the pillow, he was now as awake and aware as he was the previous afternoon. He couldnt sleep. He knew he couldnt go back to the computer...no one would be online or answer his emails at this time of night.
Cant sleep, cant monitor the computer. He had to do something. Despite the horrendous snowfall that awaited him outside, he put on his jacket and boots and hat, and grabbed his keys.
PArt 4 tomorrow night
Email #1: Jesus fucking christ this had better not be a joke, FUCK! What the fuck, Jesus man, what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? You fucking IDIOT! What the FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR! YOU FUCK! FUCK YOU! FUCKING MORON! I swear this had better be a joke...FUCK!
Email #2: I hope this is a joke. That last Email was a knee jerk reaction...You have to be alive, or else that pic wouldn't have been on your site. But, is it real?
If it is, Look, Ive been there before. I almost did it myself. I haven't really talked about it before. One, It never really came up in conversation...fuck, even if it did I probably wouldn't have talked about it. Its not something you want to do man, Jesus.
Listen, if you want to talk, you know how to get ahold of me. Incase you lost it, my numbers XXX-XXX-XXXX, Im here all the time, after 3 call XXX-XXX-XXXX, Extension XXX. You have to talk man. Even if we dont talk about this. Talking helps.
I gotta go. Its late, and Ive been up for a long time. I really hope youre allright man. Call me. Night.
Email #3: OK, if this is some sick fuck who killed my friend, and took over his website, youre in for it, fuckhead. you fuckinggn maianac, you will get it. fucking sick bastaterd, you didnt now whwo youre fucksng wtht.
Uh, if oure alive man, disregard thisa one. Its rally late. i dont knwow whtat Im typei here. fuck i have to go to sleeep.
He rubbed his eyes. He was really fucking tired...hed been typing and pondering the situation for three hours...his eyes were dried and weary. His stomach was empty. it ached, and was twitching. his wrists were killing him from typing so much. He hadnt gotten any information from anyone...none of his friends roommates were online, and even though he checked every 5 minutes, no one had responded to any of his emails. This was one of the most intense things hes had to live through, but the fact remained. He needed to get some sleep. He couldnt physically keep going on.
But he couldnt stop thinking. He laid in bed for 40 minutes, and even though he was worse for wear before he hit the pillow, he was now as awake and aware as he was the previous afternoon. He couldnt sleep. He knew he couldnt go back to the computer...no one would be online or answer his emails at this time of night.
Cant sleep, cant monitor the computer. He had to do something. Despite the horrendous snowfall that awaited him outside, he put on his jacket and boots and hat, and grabbed his keys.
PArt 4 tomorrow night