Let Me Scream - An Original Story.

Prolog.

I sit in front of my computer as always. It's already 3 o'clock in the night, most people are gradually offline, but from pure routine I decide to check the few different dating sites I am a member of. But as always, there are zero messages, updates or shout outs. A quick look at youtube, a click from the mouse makes the sound shift dramatically from soft piano to deep screams about the damaged evolutionary state this world is going into.

I breathe in and let the air sink into my lungs, before slowly letting it slip away through my lightly contracted lips.
A sudden beep, that disturb the hardcore screams, that silences every thought makes me look up from my heavily downbitten nails and up to the porcelain white screen. It proudly tells me that a message from a yet unknown man has made it to my inbox.

I fast-pacedly glide the mouse to make the arrow lightly cover the update icon, once again click the left side of the black plastic, forcing the website to shimmer as the layout transforms itself into the inbox.
One last click on the mouse, and I catch a glimpse of the short yet deep description of carefully chosen words.

Karon C. Richi.
28 year old Male.
Website Designer.

Goodevening, dear Jenna Kirsty.

I look at the first pair of words at the top of the message and honestly can't stop myself from thinking 'nerd' when I see what he, presumably, does for a living. But on the other side, I myself am not the most fit to judge at that area, so I end up lightly biting my underlip and get it together, reading some more.
He must get credit for being so formal though, since most guys usually starts off with 'Yo!” or “Are you fresh trying -”.

I am sorry for disturbing you this late, but since you seemed to be online as indicated by the green dot under your profile picture, I allowed myself to study your profile. And to be honest from the very beginning, I have to admit that I find your thoughts and outwards look fascinating and adoring.

I stop reading for a little, shocked to my very core.

Wait a second!

I stare at the last sentence, and my jaw is practically hitting the floor out of shock.

My appearance is adoring?..

I am not exactly a model and have never been close to it.

My hair is long and brown, the prettiest I will ever wear according to myself. My eyes big, grass green and outlined by lightbrown, long eyelashes. My cheeks are a little too round and pink, making the lines down to my half-circle formed chin seem deeper than they really are.
I am not exactly thin, got a lot of handles of fat here and there, especially by the hips, that does not look good no matter what I put on. Which is the reason why I stick to loose black pants and long sleeved, oceangreen hoodies.

I let out a sigh, shaking my head even though there is no one to see it, and choose to read the rest though deeply depressed. He is probably just one out of many trolls, constantly trying to be sarcastic and therefor hurtful.
That his next words would prove the opposite, I couldn't possibly have known.

I know that you do probably not trust my words, since you have been previously bullied on this site by desperate, pathetic men. But I assure you, Jenna Kristy, that I am in no ways like them.
On some points I am worse, though..

Nervousness slowly begins to sneak into my mind, taking a firm grip upon my throat and disrupts my calm breathing; deepening and yet hurrying it into a lot of small, almost hiccup-like breathings.

W-worse..?

I keep on reading, yet still nervous about the upcoming words.

But even so, I hope you will give me the opportunity to explain myself, let me assure you that I have an honest interest about you; not only mentally, but maybe even some day, physically.

Many hopeful greetings.
Karon Cerneas Richi.

I am astonished, confused and yet captivated.
And therefor I, after reading the message a few more times, start writing an answer to this mysterious admirer.


//Let me know what you think, as I originally wrote this in danish and a few days ago. :3
I don't mind constructive criticism. ^^//

It has been a few days since I wrote an answer to the mysterious Karon, and I am beginning to get worried. He has not reacted, and I just hope it wasn't my overly sarcastic words that scared him off. I'm standing in front of a desk, wearing my hair high in a simple ponytail, constantly annoyed by the drunken bastards that feel like lecturing me about exercise, while they wait for me to hand them whatover item they have decided to buy. Mostly they just want a sixpack and a carton of cigarettes, and it irritates me that they feel obliged to lecture me about health, when they have used the last thirty years to marinate their brains with alcohol.
I sigh deeply, placing the two packs of Prince on the desk, trying to ignore the elder mans critiques.

“10 dollars, please.”

The guy puts the money forward, grapping the cigarettes as if they were the ring over them all, before wobbling out of the small kiosk.
I put away the money, write it down in the black notebook, before leaning towards the desk. My mind quickly drifts off, making images of Karon and how he might look. Hopefully, he would be one of those smart yet handsome guys, that always know the right thing to say and do when needed. I don't even realise that the time passes by in a flash, when the doorbell suddenly clings to inform me that a new customer has entered the boutique.
I take a little step back, ready to serve the customer with my best – and only – service smile. But I can't stop my self from doing the elevator look at the person, mentally judging him even though I hate being done that to myself. It's just a lifelong reflex that is almost impossible to destroy when first used to.

He's not exactly an unordinary guy, but I can't really say he looks average either. His hair is black, all of it groomed backwards and held there by some kind of greasy-looking wax. He is higher than most guys, probably 6,5 feet tall or something like that, which just greatly emphasizes his slim, fragile figure. He wears black, half frame glasses, greatly volumizing his skyblue eyes.
But the most charactiristic thing about his face, is the little, finelined goat beard along the edge of his chin.
And then my gaze climbs down to the clothes, and I'm honestly shocked by the attire.

The guy is wearing a white shirt, pretty simple, but with lots of all kinds of badges covering the most of the chest part. I only catch a little glimpse of one of the texts, but I'm pretty damn sure it says something like 'Just Die Without Lies'. The bottom of the shirt is tucked into some really awkward shorts, a little too tight even though he has some incredibly skinny, white legs. It has some military-ish pattern, but with bright colors like pink, yellow and silver.
And even weirder, though it is hard to say that just the clothes alone aren't anything but unusual, he does not have any shoes on. Nothing. His feet is bare, visible, and it isn't exactly summer yet. I can clearly see the grey, thick clouds covering the sky outside, making everything seem a lot more moody than it usually is.

Suddenly the man grabs a bottle of water, and walks towards me, only stopping a centimeter or so from the desk. I automatically blink a few times, staring at him, even though I know I shouldn't have.
The guy started smirking, ripping me back to my senses, so I just hurry up clicking the water bottle information into the cash register, avoiding any kind of eyecontact.

Gosh, why am I this awkward..

I try not to twist my own tongue, while still looking everywhere but at the customer.

“A.. Anything else, sir..?”

I hope he doesn't shake his head, as I will not be able to see it, as my eyes are almost fixated on the bottle as if it contained pure gold and not some cheap, easy to get water.

“No, Jenna.”

I nod and quickly point at the little screen in front of the guy, so I don't have to say more. It takes me a few seconds to realize that the guy just said my first name. And then I stare again, but this time with fear, instead of wonder. And he obviously finds it funny, don't ask me why though, as he starts chuckling while placing a few coins on the desk.

“You really are as fascinating, as I thought you would be.. How interesting.”

Wh.. What!

I am confused and feel like I could crawl down a mouse hole, as I stare into the pits of his light yet emotionally clouded eyes. My jaw is probably laying on the ground, because he just shakes his head before grabbing the bottle again, calmly leaving the boutique.
But just before he takes the last step, and let the door hide his body, he speaks out with a firm, loud voice. And he is not doing anything to hide the joy.

“It has been very nice to meet you, Jenna Kristy! I will write you later tonight, so be prepared.”

The work hours can't go by fast enough, even though I serve a few more customers, my mind is already at home in front of the computer. And there is only one thought keeping its greedy claws in me.

Who was that guy..?