1
“But how am I supposed to breathe?”
This was one of many questions I asked while the concept of “The Gasping Game” was explained to me. The trend was as dangerous as it was viral. I don’t even know where it originated, to be honest. All I knew was that it seemed like a really, really bad idea.
I should’ve trusted my gut.
***
About a week ago, we all went over to Bird’s house for a kickback. Just a few people. Nothing crazy. Bird was a tall, lanky guy on the water polo team that I had a brief thing with freshmen year. It didn’t last. Neither did he, if you catch my drift. We always kept it pretty cordial between us, though.
Bird lived with his grandma, who so kindly allowed us to gather in her grimy basement whenever we wanted to smoke or drink or fuck around on weekends. I guess when you’re that old, you just stop caring.
She usually let us be as loud as we wanted, though sometimes if things got a little too rowdy, she’d stomp on the ceiling as if to say: “Shut the hell up, down there.”
Anyway, I hopped in my old Ford Ranger and picked up Kirby (she was always first since she lived close to me and was also my best friend), then Reese, who the two of us had known since like, Kindergarten.
“I’m gonna get fucked up tonight,” said Kirby.
“I’m not,” I responded.
“Lying bitches. Both of you,” added Reese.
We laughed collectively for the last time as we sped across town.
***
That night was like all the rest. Half a dozen of us, hanging in the basement. Trying so desperately to escape boredom. It wasn’t long until one of Bird’s friends, Pitty, who’d gotten his nickname from the fact that his armpits always reeked, suggested we play.
“Have you guys heard of The Gasping Game?” he asked.
“You clearly just made that up,” someone joked.
“What are the rules?” another asked.
Pitty locked in on me. I still don’t know why. “Jules, you’ll go first.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because. You’re brave and shit,” he smiled.
But I’m not, I thought to myself.
“First, we tie you to a chair,” said Pitty. “And make sure you can’t move.” That was already enough for me to dismiss the idea entirely. “Then, we take a bedsheet and hold it over your face, real tight.”
“But how am I supposed to breathe?” I butted in.
Everyone laughed at the question, but I didn’t know what was so funny.
“You don’t,” Pitty sneered. “That’s the whole fuckin’ point. But don’t worry, you won’t pass out or anything. It’ll just make you lightheaded. High, almost. Then, we rip the sheet off and that’s when you see…”
The whole group was listening intently now, like Pitty was telling a ghost story and the part where you say “BOO” was nearing.
“The Gasping Man.”
“Who the fuck is that?” I asked.
“He’s a man with a bedsheet wrapped over his face. He can’t breathe and he’s doomed to suffocate for all of eternity. Then, when he finally touches you… you die instantaneously, of asphyxiation.”
“That part is bullshit,” said Kirby.
Everyone suddenly looked at her.
“Yeah? Then why don’t you do it?” suggested Pitty.
“I did. Last weekend. And look at me. I’m fucking fine.” Kirby crossed her arms, smiling, seemingly proud of the fact that she voluntarily did such a dangerous deed.
“Wait, you did? With who?” I asked.
“People,” she mumbled, as if it should be obviously noted she had other friends besides me.
I didn’t think it was all that obvious.
***
The next thing I knew, the group had coaxed me into playing the game. The guys tied me down in a chair and prepared to essentially, well, suffocate me.
“If I tell you to stop, you have to stop,” I reminded them.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Pitty. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”
My heart was pounding, but honestly, I was still kind of bothered by the fact that Kirby had played the game without me.
Maybe that’s why I finally said yes.
Perhaps I was trying to get back at her in some weird, fucked up way.
“You ready?” Pitty asked.
“Duh.”
They lifted the dirty white bedsheet and wrapped it around my head. My vision went white and cloudy as I sucked and gasped through the cotton.
I tried to focus on my breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
But it was getting harder and harder to do just that.
I started to get dizzy.
“Okay, okay!” I tried to scream, though my words sounded muffled.
It felt like I was under there for years.
By the time they pulled the sheet off, everything had gone blurry. I was dizzy and the room was spinning. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the lack of oxygen in my brain or just the adrenaline, but it was over and I was grateful for that.
“So? Do you see him?”
I slowly peered around the room, my heart still racing.
“Oh my God…” I mumbled.
“What? What is it?!” Reese shrieked.
Then, I laughed.
“Gotcha.”
“You bitch!”
After, we drank more and smoked more. We made jokes about The Gasping Man coming to get us. I still can hear the sound of everyone laughing their asses off while Reese chased us around wearing the bedsheet before he ate shit.
That was before everything changed.
***
Once I got back home, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking I was seeing things in the corner of my room. A shadow, a figure in the dark.
You’re just being paranoid, I thought to myself. The Gasping Man isn’t real.
That’s when my phone buzzed and scared me half to death. It was Kirby calling. I answered.
“For fuck’s sake, Kirby. You scared the shit outta me.”
At first, she didn’t say anything.
She just breathed into the phone.
“I see him,” she finally said.
“See who?” I asked.
“Who do you think?” Now she was whispering. “The Gasping Man…”
My first thought was that she was trying to get one last scare at me before bed. So I entertained the idea. “Yeah? What’s he doing?”
“He’s just… standing in the corner, staring at me,” she said calmly. “There’s a sheet wrapped tightly over his face. It looks like he… can’t breathe. And he’s coming for me. Now he’s getting closer.”
That’s when I started getting freaked out. I turned on all my lights.
My heart was pounding.
What if The Gasping Man was real and his visit with Kirby was simply delayed?
Would he come for me next?
“Okay. That’s enough, Kirby,” I said, my heart skipping a beat as I went from concerned to terrified. “I’m fucking scared. You got me. Now stop.”
“He’s at the foot of my bed now,” she was still whispering, which made it all the more creepy. “I can’t move. He’s going to get me. I… just wanted to say goodbye, Jules.”
“Dude. I said enough.”
The last thing I heard was Kirby gasp on the other line.
“Kirby? Hello?!”
My blood ran cold.