She sat there still, the murder weapon -- or lifesaver -- warm under her fingers. She knew it only took her a little while -- just several nudges and taps or even none at all -- to end everything there. Some would blame her alias, the evidence vivid to the world, but no legal punishment would be able to touch her real self. It would be the perfect murder.
The thing is, she did not know why she wanted to kill him. She really did not. It was an impulse like this other time she saw a really expensive and impractical dress behind the glass display of the boutique near her office, eighty percent off. A one-in-a-lifetime bargain for something beautiful, so perfect. She could afford it, but she did not need it. She would not have even glanced on it under normal circumstances. It just absurdly turned into something so... magnetic when the opportunity was before her. Such was how she wanted to kill him so badly. Like the urge to just do something evil, something irrational, just once.
It only takes several words. It's your call.
He was already at the edge, she could sense it. The despair could be felt even from the boring, expressionless typeface he used in the messenger. All it would take from her was just several words. To save or to doom, it was her choice. Why would she care? Why indeed? He was barely someone she knew. All that brought them together was the Internet, and her life would generally stay the same whatever she said. She was anonymous, after all. No one in her real life would be able to tell.
She licked her lips nervously. Her fingers caressed the plastic keys of the alphabet, the murder weapon.
With sharp taps on the keyboard, she sent messages after messages.
Don't die. This will all pass. Stay alive. Just hang on there, okay?
Why did you rescue him from himself?
I don't know.