Friday, February 8, 2013 | post a comment {0}

      He scanned all the numbers running up the computer screen. A code. A mystery for others, a beautifully written language for him. He squinted and felt a deep sense of pleasure when he confirmed that his work was flawless. He pressed enter and began clacking away, feeling more and more powerful as the string of numbers grew longer, more complex. It was intelligent like him. Fast like him. He typed furiously, smile spreading with each successive key command. He was the master. He was the boss.

      Perhaps he wasn't much in real life. Perhaps he wasn't powerful unless he had his cyber code army. But who could distinguish between what was real and digital in this day and age? People established their lives on the computer. Fell in and out of love, attained both valuable and petty information. Why should he care if he wasn't much to them?

      He let his anger fuel the speed of his fingers. The guys who had picked on him. The girls who ignored him. The people who made him feel like a nerd. Loser. Nobody. And maybe he was when he was in their domain, when he was caught up in the "real" world. But his pain, his hurt, that was all very real. And when he signed onto a computer, those emotions were still there. So who is to say the cyber world isn't real? He was part of it and he was real, wasn't he? He must be, because the anger and loneliness in his heart reminded him of that. They thought they were the powerful ones, safe. But they had to use a computer at some point, and when that happened, they were in his land. The place where he ruled. They were helpless and they were going to pay. They were going to pay in the only currency he knew how to receive.

      Humiliation. With a computer virus, he could retrieve any information he pleased. They thought he was pathetic, but everyone had secrets to hide in the confides of their search history and old writings and photos. They could scratch him, break him, scar him, but he could do all these things. Only better. Because he knew where to target; In the mind and in the heart, where it truly hurt. He would know.

      He felt a tear slide down his face and wiped it off angrily. He was the king. He was their demise. They would be sorry.

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Literally the worst at writing anything that doesn't have to do with romance. Oh wells 8)