Pilot (a.D. MMVI)

I graduated high school, finally-albeit a year behind. I’ve also acquired a job-though it’s mediocre at best, but it gives me easy work and I get along with the owners. I’ve had my ups and downs and I’m not always your average nineteen-year-old. Sometimes I’d like to think I’m above average. Other times I know I’m below average. My work is done for the night and I am headed home. I still stay with my family and I guess I will for a while to come. The traffic isn’t bad at this time of night, so I’m home in a few minutes. My parents greet me. No one else is using the family computer, so I log in and check my Myspace account. There is a friend request and a new message. It is from a girl whom is three years my junior and is out of state.

The message reads “Hi. I was looking for a childhood friend but saw your profile. You seem like a good person I would want to know more about.”

I’m leery. Especially with this Dateline show, I’ve heard of. But then again my love life is pretty much nonexistent and this could be a chance for love or at least companionship. I’ve never been known to anyone because I am waiting for someone special. I don’t know enough about her yet and even if she is special enough, she is not legal. Even if she would be, I would prefer to wait until marriage. From what I gather about her, she seems like someone who would command plenty of reverence. At least that is what I feel towards her.

So carefully, I choose the words for my reply message “Hey. It’s perfectly fine that you friend requested me. From looking at your profile, you seem like a sweet girl and I too would like to know more about you.”

I send the message.

In a few seconds, she replies, “Are you on Yahoo or AIM?”

“Both,” I tell her.

“Can I have your information?”

“Yes.” I then type my screen names on the said services and send them to her.

“Get on Yahoo, so we can talk.”

“Will do.”

We chat for a while, then she randomly asks me “Do you play a musical instrument?”

Trying to be funny, I reply “Yeah, I play a musical instrument: I download a ringtone into my cell phone and then I call my cell phone and when it rings it plays music.”

“Ha-ha, that’s cute.”

“Thanks. In all seriousness, I’m not musical at all. I do like to write though.”

“I can’t write at all, but I do like to read.”

Oh, my! She likes to read. I wonder if she would be interested in what I write. I’ll ask, “Maybe you could look at this story I’ve been working on.”


“Okay, can I send it to you through Yahoo?”


“Stand by.”

I send the file.

She downloads it and there is a silence as she reads.

Wait, now she is messaging me. “That was beautiful.”

Good Lord, she can read quickly.

She is messaging me again. “Could I call you?”

How could I tell her no?

“Sure, I have free minutes after nine PM and it’s after nine in my time zone.”

“Then give me your number. I’ll call you.”

“Will do.” I then send her my number and walk to the back-yard for privacy.

As I’m walking out the door, my dad asks “Where are you going?”

“Outside. I’m waiting for a phone call.”

“Well don’t wake up the neighbors.”

I nod and walk out.

I am now at the back fence when my phone rings.

I answer it “Hello.”


We converse about the differences in our accents and regional cultures.

She compliments me on the story I sent her. I explain to her how “The Notebook” film gave me plenty of inspiration.

She tells me how she loves that movie.

We continue to converse.

I tell her “Since you liked that story I sent you, I have another one. It’s the storyline to a video game and I’ve never shown it to anyone else because it’s kind of graphic.”

“That doesn’t matter as long as they are in love.”

“My characters most certainly are and I wish I could see your reaction.”

“Then get on your computer and send it to me.”

“Okay. Will do.”

We hang up and I come into the house and log back on the computer.

I then retrieve my floppy disk and send the file to her.

When she is finished reading, she messages me “That was beautiful, but now I’m nervous. Please don’t be offended, it’s just I saw this show called Dateline. I hope your not a predator.”

“I assure you I’m not.” Damnit, I knew this would happen.

“I know you’re not-I’m just nervous.” How does she know for sure? Thank God, she seems to trust me.

We then say our goodbyes for the night. I take a Klonopin as I’m having a serious anxiety attack right now. I’m overly paranoid about the legal trouble I could have gotten myself into. Soon the Klonopin kicks in and I fall asleep.

Back to “a.D. MMVI.”

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