Connection #8

-Zoey-

Looks like I’m not alone. I was on my phone when I got an email notification.

“Hm? What’s this?” I asked myself. I opened my inbox. One new message. I didn’t recognize the address. “What is Your Number?” was the subject title. I shouldn’t click on it. I really shouldn’t.

“Hello. You might not know me. But my name is Tsukiyono Omi. I have been branded with the number twenty-one. What number do you have?”

I looked at my shoulder. I could hear “10” laughing at me. Who was this Omi person? Could I trust them? How did they find me? My hand hovered over the screen for a moment. I shouldn’t be doing this. I really shouldn’t.

I tapped reply.

“Ten.”

I hit send. I couldn’t turn back now.

I got a reply at home. I stared at my screen. That rabbit hole looked so big. Am I really going to jump? I looked at my shoulder again. The burning felt light, but I still felt it. I wanted it to stop. Maybe… Just maybe…

I opened the message.

“I am trying to look for others like us. Have you been given a date you will die?”

My stomach dropped. I looked at my shoulder. “10” was burned deep into the skin. I want it to go away.

I took a breath and started typing.

“Who are you?”

I paused. What am I doing? This wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be doing this. I deleted that last sentence.

“Yes. Who are you? How did you find me? How will you do it?”

I paused with my typing. This was crazy. What was I doing? I could just delete all of the messages. This could all stop here. I could stop going down the rabbit hole.

I took a breath and hit send. Maybe they won’t reply back. Maybe this was a joke. I had only one way to see.

There was no reply for a few hours. I pretended everything was fine. (That’s all I have been doing.) It hurt to smile and laugh. My skin felt like it was burning. “10” stung against my skin. Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore.

This had to stop!

That evening, my phone buzzed. My stomach turned. They did it. I actually got a response. My hand trembled as I held my phone. Turn back. Turn back! I should turn back.

I tapped my screen. They only sent one sentence.

“Meet me in Shinjuku.” Attached was an address at a maid café. Okay, too late to turn back.