The Author Behind the Screen Read online

  “I’ll have a coffee, thanks. How’s that tea treating you?” Kyle asked.

  “I think it works. But it’s only been a couple of days.”

  “Right. Hey, what's that on your face?” Kyle stood up and walked up to Emily.

  “Are my eyes red?” She rubbed her eyes.

  “No, below your eye.” Kyle leaned in and took off Emily's glasses. “It looks like a bruise.”

  “Oh, that.” Kyle handed her glasses back. “I just woke up with it this morning. It doesn’t hurt or anything. So, I don’t know.”

  “Strange. Well, keep an eye on it.” Kyle’s phone rang. Checking the screen, he said “Oh, put a hold on that coffee. This is a client I need to talk to.” Say, what are you doing tonight? Do you want to get some food again later?”

  Emily thought for a moment. She really didn’t feel like going out again today, but she felt comfortable and relaxed around Kyle. “Sure, sounds good.”

  “Great, I’ll come and pick you up around 7.”

  Emily let Kyle out of the house, and sat down at the counter listening to the sounds of Kyle’s car drive off into the distance.

  She felt drained. It was only 2pm, but the day’s events had left her without any energy. Sitting in silence, she could feel deep inside her gut that something wasn’t right. Why did she have a blue mark on her face? Why did her laptop break down for no reason? Why did she feel different?

  She sat there in deep thought for a while, and then she remembered something.

  Chapter 6

  The kitchen was Emily’s office and diner in one. She often liked to snack on things when she worked. She also liked to have constant access to coffee and other liquids.

  She liked being able to change her seating from the kitchen table to the counter where her feet couldn’t touch the floor. She liked being able to look outside at the small patch of green that was hers. She didn’t like being confined to four walls that were designed for work. She liked freedom, natural light streaming in from in front of her, and access to all the snacks and drinks a woman could want.

  Sam was the opposite. He liked his dimly lit office, with his desk lamp, few distractions and the numerous bottles of scotch he kept. He liked having his back to the outside world as he worked. He said that it gave him the space to be creative without distractions. Emily didn’t really understand it because to her, the room was very uninspiring, but it worked for Sam. Sam was the senior copywriter at the agency where he worked. Clients would hire the agency based on the recommendations of other companies that had worked with Sam.

  He had a knack of being able to get into the head of the target market and spin stories that would speak to them in their language. It was quite fascinating to behold really.

  To the normal person, it would seem like simple sales writing on a page: boring, uninteresting and dull. But to Sam, that just meant you weren’t his target market. If you were Sam’s target, however, you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off the page. You would read pages and pages of his work, and before you knew it, you were buying products from his sales pages.

  It was 2:20 in the afternoon, and Emily had been sitting in silence for twenty minutes, when she suddenly remembered that Sam’s laptop sat in his office untouched. She hopped out of her seat, and went straight to Sam’s office. It was just as he left it. The curtains were drawn, and it was quite dark. Lo and behold, Sam’s laptop sat on his desk covered in dust.

  Emily was nervous. She hadn’t touched Sam’s laptop because she wanted to preserve the room as it was, but she felt an overwhelming need to document his last day before it left her memory for good. She carefully lifted the laptop so as not to disturb the dust around it, and took it along the charger to the kitchen.

  She opened the laptop, and pushed the power button. The fans hummed into action.

  Beep

  The laptop beeped once. Twice. Three times.

  …Updating. Please wait…

  A progress bar popped up underneath the words on the screen.

  Emily watched the progress bar without breathing or blinking.

  10%... 20%... 40%... 55%...

  66%... 72%... 80%... 94%...

  Two minutes passed.

  94%...

  Emily stared at the screen. Nothing. She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. She’d been staring at the screen without blinking for several minutes.

  She put her glasses back on, and the numbers on the screen jumped.

  95%...

  100%

  She let out a huge sigh of relief and said thank you under her breath multiple times as she logged in. Logging in was easy. Sam and Emily knew each other’s passwords for most devices, and within minutes, she was staring at the desktop of Sam’s computer. The background was a photograph of the two of them at a Japanese restaurant, and there were only a couple of folders on the desktop. Work… Games… Software. Just the normal stuff.

  Now the laptop was up and running, Emily opened the word processor and pulled out her notebook. She wanted to get as much done before Kyle came to pick her up at 7, so she started typing. At first it was difficult to start, but she was soon hitting her stride as she continued retelling the story of her husband’s last day.

  Fortunately, the plot outline that she had written in her notebook contained a lot of descriptive information, and she easily recalled minor details like the color of Sam’s tie, her perfume and even the flowers that Sam had bought her.

  After a few hours, she had written a few thousand words. She stopped writing, took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. She had come up to the part in the story where her husband was killed. She checked the time. It was almost 6, so she decided to leave that part of the story until later. She saved her work and went for a shower.

  Kyle was right on time. He pulled into Emily's driveway at 7 and knocked on her door. She wore jeans, a collared blouse and a comfortable sweater. Nothing too crazy, but it fit her figure well. When she answered the door to Kyle, he was a bit taken aback.

  “Wow. You look good, Em”, he exclaimed. “Ready to go?”

  She blushed a little. Kyle’s compliment caught her off guard a bit. “Sure, let’s go”.

  Kyle took Emily to a Korean barbecue about 30 minutes away from where she lived. They had fun grilling meat over a charcoal fire, drinking rice wine and chatting about good times past.

  “What do you see yourself doing in a year, Em?” Kyle asked, as he passed Emily some freshly grilled meat.

  “Hmm, I’ve not really thought about it. I guess, I’ll want to have written a couple of books and started moving on with my life, you know.”

  “Yeah, I get it. How’s your writing going? Are you getting back into it?”

  Emily paused. “Well, I was having trouble writing, like, I couldn’t write anything. I would just sit and stare at the blinking cursor all day. But the past few days, I’ve felt inspired.”

  “Oh?” Kyle felt a silent sense of achievement. “Why do you think you’ve been feeling inspired?”

  Emily shifted in her seat and downed her small glass of rice wine. “I’m not sure. The past few days have been a bit… different, but in a good way I think…”

  Their conversation continued bubbling until they were both full and ready to go home. Kyle picked up the bill, paid it and they left.

  "Hey Kyle, you don't need to pay for me, you know."

  “I know. I want to though. You deserve a bit of treating.”

  They drove back to Emily’s house making small talk. When they arrived, Emily’s door wouldn’t open.

  Kyle groaned. “This door keeps playing up”. He got out of the car, and opened the door for Emily. She got out of the car and hugged him.

  It was a close hug. A little closer and a little longer than good friends usually hug. Emily could feel Kyle’s back through his jacket, and she could smell his cologne on his neck. It was warm. She felt safe. But she felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, and released the hug.

  They said their goodby
es, and Emily went inside the house as Kyle drove away. She felt a bit embarrassed about hugging Kyle. Perhaps, it was just the alcohol that made her do it. She went into the kitchen and noticed the laptop was still on. This time, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She sat down at the laptop and saved the document about Sam’s last day to her online cloud storage, and then she emailed it to herself for good measure.

  She made herself a mug of tea and took it to bed with her. It was a bit after 9:30, but it had been an eventful day, and before long, she was drifting off.

  ***

  BANG!

  Emily sat straight in bed fumbling for her glasses. Thoughts running through her head.

  What time was it?

  What was that bang?

  It sounded like a car had backfired, but it sounded really near. Emily went to her window and looked outside, but she saw nothing.

  It was 2am, and she knew that she should go back to sleep, but that noise had shaken her awake. The mug of tea by her bed was half empty and cold, so she decided to take it to the kitchen. As she walked into the kitchen and put the mug in the sink, she noticed that Sam’s laptop was still on.

  She sat down in front of the screen and started to read. If she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, she may as well see if she could add in some new details.

  As she was reading, something in the document didn’t seem quite right. It was as if there were little changes and edits here and there. She went back to the bedroom and grabbed her phone and opened her email on her phone. She found the email she had sent herself earlier and opened the document.

  Her intuition was right. As she compared the document in the email to the one on the laptop, she noticed a difference in the details. The color of Sam’s tie had been changed from red to blue…

  The color of the roses changed from pink to red.

  The restaurant had changed from Greek to French.

  Even the perfume, Addiction, had been changed.

  Something wasn’t right. She stood up to grab her notebook, but as she stood up, she felt dizzy.

  And that’s when she hit the floor.

  And her world went dark.

  Chapter 7

  Emily woke up with the September sun pouring over her body. She rolled over and saw that it was a little after 10am. Her head was throbbing, and she remembered that she’d collapsed in the night.

  Then she heard noises from outside her room.

  Questions flooded her brain…

  How did she get in bed?

  Why did she collapse?

  And most importantly…

  Who was in her house?

  She froze in her bed. Someone was here, but no one had access to her house. Only she and Sam, and their next-door neighbor had keys – no one else.

  She quietly got out of bed, and moved towards the door. She had no weapon. Sam didn’t believe in carrying a gun and neither did she, so she was at the mercy of whoever was there.

  As she got closer to the door, she smelled something.

  Eggs.

  Someone was in her house cooking eggs. Now she wasn’t afraid; she was angry and slightly curious. She stormed out of the room to the kitchen to find Kyle stood in the kitchen over the frying pan.

  Emily was baffled. “Kyle? What are you doing here? How did you get in? I thought you were a robber.”

  Kyle looked over his shoulder, and casually said, “Hey, I found you on the floor passed out, so I carried you to bed. How are you feeling?”

  Emily was still stunned. “Thanks. How did you get in?” she quizzed him.

  “Sit down. I’ve made you some breakfast.” Kyle held a plate out for her.

  “Thanks.” She took the plate from Kyle and sat down. “So, how did you get in?”

  "I came round to bring you your jacket. You left it in my car last night." Kyle answered. "I knocked a few times, but you never answered. I tried to call your phone too, but that's off. So I tried the door, and it was unlocked.” He took a bite of toast. “That’s when I saw you on the floor, so I carried you to bed.”

  Still a bit dazed, Emily ate some egg. It was fried – not the best but good enough. She chewed slowly, turning Kyle’s words over in her mind. What Kyle said seemed plausible, but did she really forget to lock the door? “I had alcohol for the first time in a while last night,” she thought. “Maybe I really did forget to lock the door.”

  Kyle saw that she was being silent and spoke up. “I saw your laptop was turned on. What are you working on?”

  Emily immediately snapped out of her daze. The story she had been working on. She noticed the changes just before she fainted. She moved over to the laptop, and said quickly, “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just outlining some possible books to get working on. I haven’t published anything in a while, you know”.

  “Oh yeah?” Kyle replied. “I had a little read of it, but it’s not really my thing.”

  “Yeah…” Emily absently responded. She had stopped listening to Kyle and was watching the blinking cursor instead.

  Only this time, the cursor wasn’t just blinking at her mockingly, it was moving as words were typed across the screen.

  But this time she wasn’t typing. The laptop was typing by itself.

  >> Don’t trust him.

  The words appeared on the screen. They remained there for a few seconds, and then they disappeared.

  It was then that she felt a cool tingle on her cheek below her left eye.

  “Everything ok?” Kyle asked.

  Emily realized she had been holding her breath this whole time. She stood up and stumbled to her seat. “Yeah, everything's fine. I think I'm just going to eat this and get some more rest.” She had a bite of toast. “Thanks so much, Kyle. Can I call you later?”

  “Don’t you want me to stay? Are you sure you’re all right?” Kyle protested.

  “I’m sure, Kyle. Thank you. I just need some rest” Emily wasn’t sure what she had seen or felt, but she knew that something wasn’t right, and she knew that this whole situation was wrong.

  Kyle gave up. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here. “Give me a call later, okay?”

  "Okay, I will," Emily replied. With that, Kyle left. As soon as he had left, Emily locked the door, and threw away the food he had made her.

  Chapter 8

  Emily waited until she heard Kyle’s car drive off into the distance before she went to the laptop.

  She stared at the screen for a while not knowing what she was supposed to do. A few minutes passed by with nothing, so she opened a new document and typed

  Hello?

  A few seconds later, the cursor moved.

  >> Hey babe, it’s me.

  Me? Who was me? Emily had so many things running through her head.

  > Me?

  >> Yeah, me. It’s Sam, dummy.

  That’s it. She had to be dreaming. There was no way that she was talking to her dead husband through a word processor on a laptop. This is insane.

  She slapped herself on the face. Screamed. She splashed herself with water in the sink. Pinched herself on the arm. Told herself to wake up… And when none of it worked, she went back to the laptop.

  >> Are you just about finished with all of that? It’s me, Sam.

  > Okay, I’ll humor you. If you really are Sam, tell me something that only Sam would know. But I swear if this is a joke or this is you, Kyle, I won’t ever talk to you again.

  >> Hey, calm down. Do you remember the necklace I got you for our fourth wedding anniversary? Inside I put a photograph and a three-word note. The photo is of us two dressed up for Halloween a couple of years ago, and the note reads: You’re my hero.

  It was Sam, and she knew it. At the time, she thought that the necklace was a joke. The note inside was so corny and the necklace itself looked like it was something only young children or old women would wear. She had showed anyone, and it lived at the bottom of her sock drawer, but right now, it felt like the best gift she had ever been given.

  > Sa
m?! It’s really you?! How are we talking? I’m so confused. I miss you so much.

  >> Yes, it is me! I’m glad that we’ve figured that one out! I miss you too, Em, but at least we can talk through here. And I’m sorry about your computer.

  > My Computer? You mean that was you?

  >> Yes. I’m not sure how this all works just yet, but I can influence certain things. I tried to contact you through your laptop, but my bond wasn’t strong enough to it. My laptop has quite a strong bond to me though.

  Emily couldn’t believe what was happening. She wanted to say so many things to Sam. She had thousands of questions. She wanted him to tell her what to do – to give her some direction. She wanted him to tell her that everything would be okay and say that he would be home soon.

  But she knew it couldn’t happen. She knew her husband had something important to tell her.

  > Give me a minute. I’m going to make a drink.

  She walked over to the kettle, filled it up with water and turned it on. She took a mug out of the cupboard and threw a teabag in it. She was about halfway through the box that Kyle gave her.

  BEEP!

  The laptop beeped loudly, making Emily jump. She ran over to the computer to see what had happened.

  >> Don’t drink the tea from Kyle. Have a coffee instead.

  Emily took the teabag out of the mug and threw it in the trash along with the rest of the box of teabags. The kettle clicked off, and she made herself a coffee.

  Back at the laptop screen, she saw Sam write.

  >> I don’t know what is in that tea, but it’s making you drowsy. My guess is that whatever is in it made you collapse last night.

  Emily’s brain was buzzing at a thousand kilometers an hour.

  > Wait. Sam. You mean you can see me? You saw me faint?

  >> Yeah. I’m dead, babe! I’m not really bound by the same rules that you are! Obviously, I can’t do everything you can either. But yes, I can still spy on you in the shower!

  Emily laughed, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. The cursor on the screen blinked again.

  > Now, babe, I have something really important to tell you. And you have to read everything I write very, very carefully. Do you promise to do that?