The Wrong Sister

Because I wasn’t allowed to associate with anyone I had known pre-Lisa, I no longer had a Facebook account. I only had one email account, a Twitter account to keep track of my exercise goals, and an online diary. I knew it would have been smart to keep them private, but I decided that since I didn’t use any real names, I could go public. In cyberspace or not, I still needed and craved human interaction, even if I could never be truly honest with anybody I interacted with as far as my true identity and location. After a year of living comfortably with Mariska and without incident, a strange comment appeared on one of my diary entries about how sad I was over the loss of my beloved pet. “Aw, you lost your little brown furball,” the comment said. Initially, it sent a chill down my spine that the person, whose username was Angel of Vengeance, knew he’d been brown. Then I quickly told myself to chill out. Most rats were brown, and they had only made a reasonable assumption. But as much as I tried to console myself, there was just something about the message that unnerved me. While I chose my username to be as least obvious as possible, “Angel of Vengeance” sure did seem to fit Lisa well. She would be seeking vengeance, and she would see herself as a real angel of vengeance, all right, and all things evil. I wondered if I should ignore the comment, or if I should reply in hopes of getting more information to either confirm that Lisa was behind it or rest assured that she wasn’t. Better yet, should I tell Mariska? She had always told me to tell her if the slightest thing seemed off, no matter how silly and trivial it might appear, but I didn’t want to jump at every single oddity. The world was a strange place. Weird things happened all the time. Unless anything else happened, I decided to let this one go. But then other things started happening… things that also seemed like they may or may not mean anything, but that were adding up in numbers. Angel of Vengeance:You don’t say much about your personal life. Why is that? Me:Not much to say. Angel of Vengeance:But then, how can people get to know you? Me:Do you want to get to know me? Angel of Vengeance:I would definitely like to get to know more people. Me:Why me? Angel of Vengeance:The mystery surrounding you is intriguing and appealing. Me:Well, there isn’t much to know about me. I’m a very ordinary person living an ordinary life. Angel of Vengeance:I see your location is listed as being in the Midwest. I’m in the Midwest, too. Mind my asking what state you’re in? Me:Iowa. Angel of Vengeance:Same here. So what do you do for a living, neighbor? Me:I’m just a caretaker for an elderly couple. What do you do? Angel of Vengeance:I am what my name says. Me:I don’t understand. Angel of Vengeance:You will. I didn’t even hesitate this time. I ran out of my room and into the living room, where Mariska sat watching TV. “Come here! NOW!” “What’s wrong, hun?” she asked as she rose from the couch. “Just come quick.” She followed me back into the bedroom, and I showed her the latest exchange with Angel of Vengeance, including the first comment where they mentioned my rat being brown. “Did you mention the rat’s name?” “Never.” “Anyone else’s name?” “No, none at all. You can see everything I posted.” “Okay. I’ll get someone to look into it ASAP. Meanwhile, no more going to that site, Shaylin.” “I won’t,” I said, feeling like a child being punished, as well as my anger growing. Lisa was still controlling my life.