kicking myself for it because I sort of knew it would happen. I mean, I remember thinking about taking it, like I subconsciously knew something would happen if I left it here. So itâs sort of my fault. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. But that doesnât change the fact that itâs gone.
My laptop. Where the fuck?
Hereâs what Iâm talking about when I say itâs exhausting.
I have to look everywhere. There are so many places where the laptop couldâve gone. Then I think about the possibility that it broke the laptop or banished it into the ether of some kind of hell or something.
My life is in that laptop.
I canât live my life without it.
Just thinking about all of it...
Okay, I sit down on the bed. I take off one of the hoodies because Iâm legit sweating now. I maybe close my eyes and maybe fall asleep.
Whenever I start searching for it, like a half hourâs gone and Iâm exactly the same: tired, just really tired. Also a little afraid. Definitely confused.
I keep thinking about what the demon might look like. Iâm surprised that the more I think about it, trying to form an image out of the bits and pieces Iâve seen, Iâm more interested than scared.
Thatâs normal, right? I really donât know.
I want it to be normal.
I start from the basement. I hate the basement. Not because itâs scaryâitâs really notâbut because itâs where my mom has all of her whatever-you-call-them, collectibles, I guess. Theyâre so stupid but she loves collecting them. They are all figurines of different fantasy and science fiction characters. She doesnât read and she doesnât watch any movies, but she buys all the memorabilia. Itâs all in this basement. But not my laptop.
I check the kitchen; the dining room; the room some people call the âfamily room,â which is dusty and has a very cool TV that we never use; every stupid closet (there are too many closets in this house); all the upstairs rooms, including the drawers jammed full of stuff I donât need to know about; and not the bathroom because fuck that bathroom.
I go back to my room. I go online via my phone and just kind of try to think about something else.
When something like this happens, itâs not like all the movies where the character fights back and everything just falls into place. The laptop is missing and Iâm out of options. Iâve looked everywhere and itâs gone.
I start thinking about what to do next. Did I back up my files? Any very personal data on there that I donât want anyone, or anything, to know about? I think about stuff like that, and it makes me really, really tired.
I sit in bed and then I lie down in bed and then Iâm remembering where Iâm supposed to be. Iâm remembering the party, Jon-Jonâs thing, and Iâm remembering something else.
I check my phone. Thereâs still plenty of time.
Back out in the hallway, I keep the lights off because itâs creepier that way. Actually, I keep them off because Iâm too lazy to feel around for the light switch. I go down the stairs and out the door to the recycling bin shoved to the side of our garage.
I pick my laptop upânope, not wasting any thought on how this could have happened or how I could just know where it was all of a suddenâand I look to see if itâs been scratched, messed up, broken. Itâs like it just flew here.
Back in my room, itâs cold again.
Whereâs my hoodie? There. Okay.
I open up the laptop. It looks like the screen froze, but no, actually it hasnât, hmm. Tap a few keys, click around, and the window starts playing a video Iâve never seen before. Itâs not something I was watching.
Two guys in a skit, both of them overreacting and freaking out over the simplest things. Itâs actually kind of funny.
I pause it a moment but the pause button isnât working.
The videoâs