Heal Me

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Chapter Two

Later, after a hot shower, I went back to my room. Several empty cans found their way into an overflowing garbage bin as I decided to tidy up. But then I sighed and gave up. I hated to admit it, but ever since I was a baby, someone else had picked up after me. I wasn’t used to this kind of life. The mirror behind my bedroom door showed a tiny pixy of a girl with wide, hazel eyes, a spattering of freckles, and long hair, the color of burned caramel. And Cat was right. I needed to start eating more than caffeine.

I slipped into the only clothes I owned that didn’t give away the fact that my father was a billionaire, a pair of boot-legged Levi’s and an oversized, powder pink hoodie with a tiny hole in the sleeve from when Cat had borrowed it. Then I sat back down at my computer, intent to have the last word.

After entering my password, I was logged into the boot-up screen and given the option to choose from a hundred different servers. I found Winterhoof and went with the first character choice that popped up. I didn’t bother with changing race, or class, or features. I simply hit ‘enter world’ and watched the load up screen with its ‘tip of the day’.

Tip: When interacting with other players, a little kindness goes a long way!

I searched the ‘who’ tab and saw that no-life-Smith was, in fact, still logged into the game. But now that I had him at my mercy – what would I say? What did I want?

The sting of rejection still throbbed within as I remembered all the hurtful, if truthful, things he’d uttered. I reminded myself that I am a worthy healer. He had no right. Then I typed, whispering him in private chat.

[Healslater2] How dare you!

He replied very quickly.

[Smithlol] Seriously? Leave me the alone, would you?

[Healslater2] You kicked me out of the group? What kind of person does that to someone?

[Smithlol] You weren’t doing your job.

[Healslater2] I wasn’t doing my job? You weren’t holding aggro!

[Smithlol] You’re in fucking epic gear and you still couldn’t manage a regular run. STOP whispering me!

[Healslater2] You’re just some repressed alpha who’s finally found a place he can push people around.

[Smithlol] And you’re a spoiled bitch who can’t stand the thought of someone rejecting her.

Wow. That was harsh – but I couldn’t argue. It was the reason I’d chased him onto his own personal realm. I’d wanted to prove myself. I’d wanted to make my case, because I couldn’t stand that someone didn’t like me. I was hurt and lashing out. Still… Blood boiled now, my hands were shaking, and my heart was trying to break my ribs.

[Healslater2] Please. If anyone was going to reject me – I’m glad it was you, ASSHOLE.


"Ignoring me?” I slammed an open palm down onto the desk. A resulting shower of prickles went through my hand and wrist.

I sat there for several minutes, staring at the level-one, undead around me and wondered if I was possibly the only loser to stalk someone in an online game. For a moment, a very bleak and desperate moment, I actually went through the tedious process of killing enough zombies for the 30 copper needed to send Smith a message through the game’s internal mail system. One he might not read, but he couldn’t just ignore.

Idly, as I thought about what I might write, I gained the money needed (only dying once in the process), then ran frantically for the nearest mailbox. Talk about diligence. I may have been partially aware of my temporary insanity, but my need to have the final word was still ruling over my actions.

Fine. I might be a lousy healer, but I got my epic gear running heroics as a tank, so I feel qualified to inform you how much you suck. You can’t hold agro; you don’t wait or mark targets. But whatever, at least you can relive your days of bullying kids on the playground from behind the protection of your monitor, right? Have a great life.

It was exactly to the point and exactly mean. I hit send and logged for the night. That was the end of that.

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