Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33531395-20190913113020

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.

I still remember the message, it's forever engraved into my mind, because it was that message that started everything.

'Hi Emma! I'm Katie, one of the many qualified psychologists on this platform. Your account was written under my schedule through random profiling. I will be your supportive source! If you wish to talk, just send me a message and I'll respond as soon as possible!"

<p data-p-id="879a2192f29cc7cbf86f0777f38e5e14">Reading the message, I couldn't help but chuckle at how easy it was to spot the scam, but I would be a liar if I didn't say that her message felt slightly genuine. To cheer myself up, I decided to indulge in the act that I so highly presumed was going on, thinking I would be the one to trick them. I was wrong, very very wrong.

<p data-p-id="94bd0097ab10a8f5ae412ded818a4faa">I typed up a sob story with exaggerated details and sent it to her, just to see how she would respond. I was expecting to be sent some emphatic words, which ended up being the case. She had responded, true to her word, as soon as possible.

<p data-p-id="2f3a252c83de82ddc986a838274610ee">I cannot recall what the message was, but it was enough to incite some belief in me that maybe, this was a genuine thing. That night, I logged off after her response and sat in thought for a while.

<p data-p-id="b1a8ac2509ad15a606d09672f7cc2cef">Over the passing days, I would log in for a while to see how I could mess around with her. The more I sent her messages, the more I began to put my trust into the site. The days soon turned into weeks, and me and Katie kept a steady line of communication between us. I began opening up and entrusting her with what was really going on in my life, and she would give me the advice that I needed.

<p data-p-id="b5e11783c76ac0621995b66318bf3866">However, things took a sour turn after a while.

<p data-p-id="58f0825c9d2f161152f857389e2ccefd">It was the 23rd of January, 2018. By that point, I had found my ground again. I followed the advice that Katie gave me which got me a new job and a new boyfriend as well. She brought me good fortune with her guidance, so I trusted her greatly.

<p data-p-id="c19aeaccd90e8c30273bb3785d9ea955">I had gotten back home from working all day. I was slightly irritated, so I thought having a conversation with her would help me yet again.

<p data-p-id="9d32564ab0aa2b4e8b85c7dcffb7b9ac">Following the routine, she was online at around the same time every night, which was 7:30pm. I started telling her about my day, when she brought up something we had talked about the week prior. Even though I had found a good lover, who was kind and caring, I still couldn't let go of my feelings towards my previous one.

<p data-p-id="2b5fdf39415f58a9e3d6e8a4f8a1bee3">His name was David. Me and him used to get along so well. He showed me so much affection in our time of being together, he showered me with endless gifts and showed me that good people still existed in the world.

<p data-p-id="00bde73f38c61dca577b9d3e07e4ac3d">That's why breaking up with him ruined me. I ruined everything. I drove him away from me, I destroyed our relationship because I couldn't get rid of my stubbornness of seeking help to make myself feel better, to make myself a better person.

<p data-p-id="c520caaa4a18020ef693943095a990fa">Going back to the events, I asked her why she brought him up. She told me that she had new advice to give about how I could let go. I was perplexed, but I trusted her, she wouldn't do anything to cause me harm after all, right?

<p data-p-id="e11176f674fa80516e7c624758e6c663">The message she sent me, that's another message that I can never forget.

<p data-p-id="a74955deeddaae85eb7f06b7d0be8b5b">'How about you kill him?'

<p data-p-id="73b51056ad3b6ce83dc40d644a6dd8a3">I recall how my body froze when I read that on my screen. Kill him? Was she being serious? She couldn't be serious. How could she even suggest something like that?

<p data-p-id="379ae962363327f73fefe770ea468021">My immediate answer was no. I didn't wish to harm David, far from it. I only wished him the best in his life, if I were to even damage it or take it away, I could never forgive myself. I would rather keep being tormented by those feelings towards him than lay a hand on him.

<p data-p-id="8fc2fcf93035025c3a6f95822646cc7e">Katie was serious. Dead serious. She told me that if I didn't act upon it, my life would crumble again and that I would go back into that slum I was in last September. Well, she wasn't wrong, but killing him wouldn't fix the situation.

<p data-p-id="45714045ec721b706ddc7b19fa10eec9">She persist, saying how her advice built the good life I was living. She wasn't wrong, I owed her everything in the world for helping me put my life back together.

<p data-p-id="59d827e4f9ee55c57f3db8271994a767">The conversation continued. She kept making so many good points in my eyes.

<p data-p-id="01b968dcb7f6f3d854866a5b9e73d4e3">'Maybe killing him would help, perhaps it would be for the better. Katie knows what is best, right? Of course she does. Yes, maybe I should listen to her. I trust her, and she likes me. She would never wish me any harm.'

<p data-p-id="f4f508025dc65e744b8bba47667b9a21">That was my thought process. Katie seemed so loving and all knowing, and I seemed so naive. Like a child who still had a lot to learn about life. I decided to follow through and listen.

<p data-p-id="19082af07f7744a0bc1c10f3c641441e">It's been 7 months since I murdered David Cassford. I can still remember sneaking into his house with a knife. I can still remember finding him fast asleep on his bed, his face in a peaceful state. I can still remember stabbing him, over and over and over, the blood splattering all over me and the walls. I can still remember his eyes looking at me with hurt and confusion, the light from them slowly fading away with each stab. I can still remember wrapping his body in his own blankets, putting him in my car and then burning him down to ashes in a field.

<p data-p-id="a23a74183b39e64a6851c8dd32936508">Evidently, I was never caught. David had told his family members and friends to not go look for him as he wanted to live peacefully before closing the deal. They thought he was only joking, and that he just needed some time alone, so they let him be. After a while, they presumed he had committed suicide when he never turned up back home. They looked for his body, but never found it.

<p data-p-id="3e3b022b4cc52170c1950397f2097efa">I cursed at how things seemed to fit into place so that I wouldn't be punished for my crimes. The first month or 2, I tried to remind myself about how Katie was right, but even that began to come out as an ugly lie. I felt guilty, but I didn't want to be punished, it wasn't my fault. Katie told me to do it.

<p data-p-id="ab114b7726b9423a49eb6b20f7b5e0c7">I tried turning to Katie for help, but she had disappeared completely. I got concerned, I wanted to speak to her again, so I contacted the support system that was in place in case we had a complaint.

<p data-p-id="b29267da9ffa964a30767edfad6922ea">They only just got back to me 3 days ago with a response. It's part of the reason as to why I'm writing this note. Before I end this off with the answer I got, I want to warn anyone who may be reading this, whether it's the police or some random explorer who finds this.

<p data-p-id="6691da81187b7ea06eea182e9fb97769">Don't visit Talktomesupportive.com

<p data-p-id="f2dcccdc415769d890fcb0b6b44fd209">Stay far away from that site. Please, if you see it pop up, do not click it. Resist the temptation.

<p data-p-id="7ac57f060297202eda95f964de1c2641">Now, it would be unjust if I didn't tell to you what the response I got back from them was.

<p data-p-id="7fa576d822505b733efb745a752cab84">They never signed a Katie on their site to offer their services. No records of a Katie even existed in their files. It makes me wonder...

<p data-p-id="e71dfd4edd0f6524497023f7af5e6be3">Who was I talking to the whole time? <ac_metadata title="Katie (Story for review)"> </ac_metadata>