Horror Stories • Volume 1 •

Katie

I still remember the events like they only happened a few hours ago. No matter how hard I try, I can't make myself forget. So, I'll stop the memories from flooding in with a permanent solution.

Whoever is reading this, it's too late. By the time this note gets discovered, I'll already be getting what I deserve in hell. Consider this to be my last confession before passing.

The date was the 4th of September, 2017. I was 25 at the time. Life wasn't the greatest. I had lost my dream job at a network company along with my boyfriend of 4 years. After feeling like an utter failure, I shut myself off from the outside world. I no longer had the motivation to get on my feet and go outside to meet with friends and family, all I wanted was to be left alone, hopeful that I would rot in peace.

I glued myself to my laptop, looking at videos and pictures that reminded me of what I lost. I deserved to punish myself, as I was the one responsible for making everything that I had crumble into dust before my very eyes.

In my session of self-torture, I stumbled upon a particular site that made me raise an eyebrow.

Talktomesupportive.com.

The first reaction my body exempted was a sneer. What a cruel joke it was, pointing out what, at the time, I rejected. I was far too gone to be helped, but the more my eyes lingered on the URL, the more it gripped onto my feelings of loneliness. Did I truly want to keep being cruel to myself? Maybe just going in and having a look around wouldn't hurt.

 I clicked the link, which immediately took me to a somewhat colorful site. The first thing I noticed were the various quotes that were plastered at the sides of the page. In the center was a box, asking me if I would have liked to sign up or log into an already existing account.

Feeling like I had made a mistake, I closed out of the tab and continued looking at the memories I had preserved with my past lover.

I thought that would be the end of it. That the site would only appear to me once before disappearing forever and allowing  me to go about my business. However, the site URL kept appearing again, and again, and again. From once a day, it turned to twice a day, then thrice, until it had upgraded to 10 times a day.

I gave in and made myself an account after seeing the site appearing constantly for 2 weeks straight. I was certain that nothing was going to come out of it. I didn't plan on approaching any of the 'hundreds of qualified professionals' that the site boasted about having. I wasn't about to  believe such an obvious lie.

After I made my account, I still didn't trust the site and, as a result, the account sat untouched for weeks. By the time a week had passed since I signed up, I started feeling better and I began making the effort of resocialise myself. Of course, I had to explain my absence to my loved ones, some seemed to understand and some seemed to be angry at my radio silence, but I couldn't blame them, I would feel the same way if one of my friends/siblings disappeared for over 2 months, only to come back with the explanation of just feeling too down to live or function. I failed to notice that the site had disappeared in the middle of it all.

It was on the 13th of December that the site had reappeared again. That day was one of my bad days. I went back into the site, only wanting to look at what it had to offer. I was only logged on for 5 minutes when, to my surprise, I received a message. I would like to note that I had not started any conversations prior to being sent the message, so it caught me off guard.

I clicked on the message, which took me to my inbox. The message I received was the only existing one in my inbox. It was sent by one of the 'qualified psychologists' that were listed on the site. It was a female name, but strangely, it wasn't a full name. It was only 'Katie', nothing more, nothing less. I found it a bit sketchy, so I was apprehensive when it came to reading the message.