That low-life piece of shit! How could I have trusted an idiot like him? I shouldn't have, I knew better, so why? I should have trusted my instincts and went home yesterday night instead of going to that park thing. Damn, what did he call it? He called it an amusement park; yes, that's what he called it. I have never been to a park like that. When I was a kid, I probably would have loved it, but now it seemed like a big waste of time.

I truly hate the people of the city; they are all stuck-up rich kids. Their laughs annoy me; smiles, real or not, just fill me with dread. I do everything in my power to avoid all the people I can at work and in public. I work only because I have to; if I had it my way, I would be back in my birth town. I never would have gone to the park yesterday but one of my male colleagues had been asking me to go for weeks now. I finally said sure just to shut him up and now I've called in sick from work to avoid everyone. I've been lying in bed trying to forget the horrid events of the other day. Someone like me should never be involved in stuff like this, especially when I'm not from the city. Surely, it will be all over the news, and I can only hope that I didn't get caught on the cameras even if I had left before they got there. Dread filled me to the core with the thought the people from work would try and ask me about what would happen if I was at work.

I rolled over and reached for my phone to turn it off when a text from my colleague came through. "Hey, are you okay? You disappeared after… the incident." He typed as if he cared.

The incident is not how I would describe it. I would say it was more of a man-caused natural disaster; yeah, that sounds better than an incident. I thought a moment about whether or not to respond to him. After all, he's the one who caused that shit show.

"I'll be fine as long as you never message me again."  I typed back.

It sounds harsh but it's much kinder than what I wanted to say. I was hoping that would have been the end of it and he would give up on trying to talk to me. I waited a few minutes, and just when I flipped over in my bed with a sigh of relief, another message came with a loud ding.

"That was rude, I was just trying to be nice to you and show you how to have a little fun in your sad life." He typed.

Fun, he honestly believes what he did was fun. For some reason, I let out a short chuckle, mainly out of anger, while reading his message. There was no way he thought that was fun. I could already see the dots at the bottom of the screen flashing away, so before he could send another text, I typed.

"Your versions of fun are beyond twisted and fucked up, lose my number."  My hope of him stopping was short-lived as another message came through. I debated with myself if I should look at it or not, but my curiosity got the better of me.

"I know where you live; if you tell anyone what I did, I will kill you, just like I killed those people last night." He typed.

That's all it took to piss me off even more if only he knew who he was talking to. I didn't bother messaging him back; I just pulled myself out of bed and walked to the living room. I turned on the TV and flipped to the news channel. They were already talking about last night's disaster, good, that would make the next part easier. I sat down on the couch and pulled my laptop off the coffee table, flipping it open and logging into my favorite website CRYO. A website I built myself from the ground up as a way for people to be able to report crimes to the police while staying completely anonymous. I am well known on my site and have always gone by the user Cyber. Even though it's my real name is so out of the box, nobody could even guess that it is me. I went to the message box and clicked on the first name. A person I have been messaging for months now, the only detective I trust. Detective Marsh.

My eyes were glued to the television; the lights on all the rides were still flashing. Sparks were flying from some of the string lights that got in the way of the roller coaster when it came down. Without all the people from yesterday, I could see the line of game booths and food vendors. For a slight moment, I forgot about all the dead bodies and wished I had tried the chocolate-covered churros. The operators never turned off the Ferris wheel, and the lights were flashing as it slowly spun. The mountain of dead bodies drew my attention back to reality.

"Detective Marsh, please tell me you are working today." I sent it to him and watched the TV while I waited for his reply.

I looked at the mess behind the reporter not even listening to her words. Bodies covered in white sheets were scattered everywhere as remnants from the roller-coaster were smashed on the ground. I couldn't help but wonder how many died that night but I couldn't bring myself to look at the number.

"Yes, I am and something tells me you already know what case I'm on if you're messaging me now."  My eyes shot to my laptop as the message came in. I muted the TV and took a breath before typing out. "Is it the amusement park accident?"

"How do you always know what case I'm on?" He always asks me that question but I never answer it.

"Just listen, it wasn't an accident; I was there, I saw everything; a man loosened the bolts on some of the tracks and safety harnesses before the ride started." I typed it out quickly.

I'm not afraid of death for myself, and even though I hate people, I don't like to see them die. I could tell from that night that this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this and would do it again.

"I see and do you know their name?" He typed, he's the only one that doesn't ask unnecessary questions.

"His name is Josh Bush; he works at Climb Time Financing as a mail boy; he lives at 1468 North Grove Street. Would you like to know what he ate for breakfast too?" I typed before looking back at the TV.

My thoughts trailed off to how I could quit my job and disappear from the city. I have a few backup plans already in motion, so I could be gone by tomorrow if I wanted.

"How do I know you're telling the truth? Why didn't you stop him?" Of course, he chooses now to ask questions.

"If I tell you, you can't use it against me." I watched the television as I awaited his reply.

The sheet on one of the bodies got blown away by the wind revealing that half the woman's face was missing. I gagged into my hand and averted my eyes from the television reaching for the remote to turn it off.

"I promise." The wheels in my brain started spinning at his answer.

If I tell him I was there with Josh he will find out who I am and might think I was part of it. If I don't, and he drags Josh in and he tells them he was there with a girl named Cyber, he will put two and two together. Either way, he finds out my username and name are the same. I have no choice.

"I was there with him; he said he wanted to show me how to have fun, so I went, and as for why I didn't stop him, I was shocked and afraid for my own life; I got the hell out of there as fast as I could." The first part was true, but the second part was only half-truth.

"I understand, thank you." He said, probably thinking that was the end of it.

I would usually stop messaging after that, but there is one little detail I need to tell him.

"I know where you live; if you tell anyone what I did, I will kill you, just like I killed those people last night… He sent me this message this morning, you might not hear from me for a little while." I typed before logging out and turning off my laptop.

I stood up and slowly walked back to my bed, stopping just before reaching the bed. I glanced in the mirror hanging on the wall in the bathroom. My long, light brown hair was down but tangled into what looked like a rat's nest. my brown eyes looked darker than usual, and my pale skin was showing the effects of being indoors all week. I shook my head and turned off my phone. Plopping my head down on the pillow, I let sleep take me for a couple more hours before I have to disappear.