2
I called Kirby back, but she didn’t answer.
Then, I tried again. Nothing. Finally, I texted: “Hilarious.” I was stupid at the time and chalked the whole thing up to a prank. Surely, she’d show up at school tomorrow, jump out from behind the lockers and scream “Gotcha, bitch!”
I had no idea how wrong I was.
***
Somehow, I convinced myself that when Kirby didn’t come to first period, it was only to make the whole shtick all the more believable. But by the time lunch rolled around, Reese and I were starting to get really concerned.
“Should we just call her house?”
“I already did,” I said. “No one answered.”
I looked down at my cafeteria tray. The food suddenly looked repulsive. There was no way I was going to be eating today.
“Jules, you don’t think…” he started.
“What?”
“I don’t know. She said she played the game last week. What if…”
No. I didn’t even want to entertain that thought.
Just then, my phone buzzed and scared the living shit out of me. I pulled it out of my pocket and that’s when I knew something was wrong.
My mom was calling me. She never called me at school. I quickly answered.
“Mom? Is everything okay?”
“No, honey. Kirby’s… mother just called.” Mom was crying. Either she’d been recruited by Kirby to be involved in the prank and was doing the best acting of her life, or… things had suddenly become real.
“She.. died last night, Jules. I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t even process the information at first.
I just sat there, jaw dropped. In my ear, Mom was saying stuff, but I couldn’t understand the English language. My brain wasn’t working. I was paralyzed. I felt a single, warm tear roll down my face.
Across from me, Reese mouthed: “What is it?”
Finally, I was able to briefly pull myself together and respond to my mom.
“How did it happen?” is all I could get out, in a cracked whisper.
She blew her nose loudly into a tissue. “I know it sounds strange, but… they’re saying she accidentally suffocated inside her own bedsheets.
***
Having your best friend die is an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
Needless to say, my parents were cool with me ditching class that day. I was still in shock when I came home and walked through the door. My mom hugged me and we cried for a while and then she said I could take as much time off as I needed.
Dad was out of town on business for a few days, so it was just the two of us.
That night, I asked Mom if we should go over and console Kirby’s family, but she said we should give them some time to process everything.
So we spent the night on the couch, watching movies and trying our best not to succumb to the sadness. Around midnight, Mom finally asked, “are you tired, honey?”
Truthfully, I was exhausted beyond belief, but for obvious reasons, I didn’t want to go to bed. How was I supposed to spend another night in a dark room, waiting for The Gasping Man to get me?
“No,” I told Mom. “Can we just… stay up for a little longer?”
“Of course, Jules.”
Soon after, I started getting paranoid.
Part of me felt like I was keeping this big secret about what had happened to Kirby. I mean, did her parents really think she somehow accidentally died just by getting tangled up in some bedsheets?
In the past, my mom had always been relatively cool about me admitting to drinking and experimenting and doing stupid shit like all teenagers did, so as crazy as it sounded, I felt safe confiding in her.
I finally broke down and explained everything.
The game. The Gasping Man. The bedsheet. The fact that Kirby played. And how I was next.
Strangely, it felt good to get everything off my chest, but I was also aware that I probably sounded like a paranoid little kid who thought the boogeyman was coming to get me.
My mother didn’t yell at me for being an idiot, nor freak out and denounce what I believed to be true.
She simply listened and told me she loved me and that she was glad I was alive.
“So… you’re not mad at me?”
“Look, back when I was in high school, we played The Choking Game,” she admitted. “These types of things have been around forever. As an adult, it seems like such a stupid idea, right? But teenagers are stupid. That’s the truth.”
“I guess nothing has changed,” I said. “But still… I’m really sorry.”
“Just promise me you won’t do anything like that again, Jules.”
“I promise. But… The Gasping Man–”
“Don’t worry about him. He isn’t real,” Mom assured me. “What happened to Kirby was a terrible accident. But you’re safe now. With me.”
***
Mom let me sleep in her bed that night, and even though I felt too old to be doing that, I felt safe in there.
When I looked around the darkness of the room, everything was still and there was nothing but total darkness.
No shadowy figures who wanted to suffocate me in my dreams.
At least, for now.
Somehow, I managed to drift off to sleep, but it felt like only seconds before I was awake again. I looked at the clock near the bed. It was 3:47AM.
Then, I felt something. A presence. Or perhaps, a shadow. Hovering over me.
I looked up–
And that’s when I saw The Gasping Man for the first time.
He was a terrifying, heaping figure of a man.
He must have been seven feet tall and was wearing a dusty old suit that looked like something you’d find at a vintage thrift store.
Through the white bedsheet wrapped tightly around his face, I could see his mouth, sucking the sheet and gasping for air.
It was horrifying.
He’s come for me, I thought to myself. Just like I knew he would.
I tried to scream–