“What are we looking for?" "I don't know-evidence?" Mikey said, sitting behind the keyboard, pretending to hack. I laughed. "This is so Crime Scene Extreme seriously though, is it even possible to view log-in records user-side?""Hmm, yes," Mikey said tapping his finger on his pseudointellectually. "You're right. This sounds like a job for a Crackhead.”

“And there was something familiar about the cadence of the words. The language. It was him. I wrote:I know who you are. I recognize your voice. by kidzeroI felt a little dizzy after I sent it, maybe because I had been holding my breath. A new message pinged and the air rushed out of me like a deflated balloon.you shouldn't be talking to strangers anyway. who am I? by anonymousI didn't really know his name or anything about him, but I couldn't admit that now. I wanted to keep talking to him. I quickly typed:You are the Unidentified. The Unidentified refuses to be typecast, target-marketed, corporate-identified, defined. by kidzero”

“Who are you when you're alone? When no one is watching? What's left then?”

“Good game, now if you don't mind opening the door, I'd like to unfold myself”

“I was like the runner-up to Miss Mediocrity and my prize was awkward silence.”

“Oh Google, she thought I was suicidal.”

“Suicide doll’s suicide Pretty, but with death there’s no way to hide Afraid to make a cut, see there’s nothing inside If your friends told you to jump off a bridge You’d step to the edge and fly. ._.”