Entry for Dreamer's Contest

'Nuff said.

            My name is Nathan T. Dalton.

            I didn’t do it.

            One of those statements is true, the other is false -- and people get mixed up all the time about which is which. Don’t worry if you can’t figure it out. I’ll tell you right off the bat which one’s right and which one isn’t, but I doubt you’ll believe me. I’m sorry for being so negative about it, but in general, I’ve found that not so many people do believe me when I tell them my story.

            But I haven’t told very many people, after all. I guess I’m being unfair.

            Or maybe I’m just trying to figure things out for myself.

            If you are reading this, you are one of three types of people. One, you could be just an innocent Internet-wanderer who found my blog somehow. If that’s true, you won’t believe a word I say. That’s fine; good, even. Discredit me and move on. It’s safer that way. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, and I don’t want it to be my fault again. I don’t think I could stand that. So if you are a random person just wandering around, let’s set things straight between us: This is just a blog that I’m writing for fun. It’s not really true. There’s not really anything dangerous going on underneath everything you know to be real. There is no Back Door, or dangerous hacker, or anything else. Got that? Believe it? Good. Then we can move on.

            Another possibility is that you could be one of them. If you are, then I would rather you didn’t read this. What I want doesn’t matter here, though. If you are one of them, you can and will use this blog against me. That can’t be helped. It’s a risk…but a risk that must be taken. If you’re one of them, I have nothing to say to you. Go ahead and use whatever you can find against me -- if you can find anything. I’m going to be pretty careful about what I write on here, including locations, dates, names…anything that could be used to track me. If you think I’m just trying to act cool, well, you’re free to think whatever you want. All that matters is I’ll be around for the next blog post.

            Then again, there is a third possibility. Maybe -- just maybe -- you’re smart. Maybe you’re clever. Maybe you can think on your feet, and maybe you will know deep down that I am telling the truth. Maybe you will be halfway as brilliant as Clara was. And if you are, then nothing I do or say can stop you from reading this. You will continue to read, because you will know what’s at stake. You will feel something awaking within you; you will feel yourself stirring.

            I wish that I could stop you. But I know that I can’t, so I won’t even try.

            Actually, that’s a lie. I will try. But it will take a while, and it will mean telling you a pretty complicated story. It involves a computer program, a hacker, and some very strange people, including myself. (I know I’m strange, because Clara’s told me.) It’s not some crazy sci-fi story, though, however much it may sound like one -- mostly because this story is real.

            So as long as we’re going to be spending time together -- that is, as long as I’m going to be writing and you’re going to be reading -- let’s make sure we both know exactly what we’re signing up for. No matter who you are -- possibility one, two, or three -- you have a few jobs to do.

            Job #1: This is fiction. Pretend it’s fiction, please. Pretend I’m just a really creative kid who just came up with this whole deal. It’s a good idea for both me and you. That way we stay intact with all our limbs attached to our bodies.

            Job #2: Don’t try to find me. This one is really important. I’m using a pseudonym, and so is pretty much everybody else in the story. Even so, don’t look me up -- ever. Don’t look anybody else up, either. Trust me, it’s an awful plan. You could think you’re being helpful, but you’re not. You could also just be curious, but please do me a favor and don’t try to get involved.

            Job #3: It’s probably best if you don’t try to follow this blog, either, or let anyone know you read it. If you must read it, then just pretend you don’t.

            I bet you probably have one question by now, because it’s my question, too. Look at that. We’re more alike than I thought way back in the first paragraph.

            Why am I writing this if it’s so dangerous?

            I guess it’s because to tell you the truth, I don’t believe it, deep down. Or maybe it’s because I want to see it all written down, and although I may be a poor writer, I’m the only person I trust to write it down correctly, except for maybe Clara, and she…

            Someone was reading over my shoulder and said that I should delete that last paragraph. I think that might have been a weird sort of compliment, but then again, he was trying to keep from laughing as he said it. It’s always hard to tell with him. Well, so much for keeping this blog a secret from him, anyway.

            (I had to go back and edit that paragraph because I accidentally spilled his name, and I still have to come up with a pseudonym. I’ll think about that later.)

            Uh-oh. I have to go. I’ll get back as soon as I can -- that is, if I’m still alive. I didn’t even get started today with telling the story. I think maybe I’m taking too long with telling…

            Oops. I really do have to go.

            Until next time…

-Nathan T. Dalton 

That was it. It may not qualify as a short story, but it's the beginning to one, so....yeah. That's it.

-President Fantasy