It started four weeks ago. In the darkest period of my life. I would rather not go into the details, but we are cruel selfish creatures. The messages appeared in every tiny bit of information. In the beginning, I ignored those meaningless coincidences, then it appealed to me. There was someone who knew every aspect of my life.

[ --- ]

My life is meaningless. I get up early, as required of me, I get to my job, work eight hours, return home, turn on the computer, waste my time dreaming of things that can never be changed, go to sleep.

"One day, I hope all of your dreams will be within your reach. They're beautiful."

The free time that I have is all that kept me from going crazy, my little desktop, and the paintings I create. I am not a great artist. I'm mostly self-taught. It was never a hobby until recently, just another unfulfilled dream, but at least this one was realistically achievable.

"Your paintings gave my life meaning, in the time when I thought I'm past the point of no return. I will believe in you, ever If everyone else gives up on you. Even If you do, I'll be there."

Another ordinary day, with me cleaning toilets and sweeping dirty floors for a minimum wage. My fate will never change. It is how it is. I won't admit it to anyone, but I've tried changing my fate. Doing things that supposedly make people feel better, doing things that maybe, just maybe might change your life. Exercising... learning... painting... it's all meaningless. It yields no results. Years pass and I'm not any productive. All that I get is only struggle and more time wasted, in a vain attempt to prove to the world that I've tried and it didn't work.

That there are people like us.

[ --- ]

I doubt anyone wants to know how it started, but here it goes. I was doing the research, lurking on forums. As usually, greedily trying to get the grasp the tiniest piece of knowledge that would allow me to become at least a shadow of what they've achieved... and their achievements, they weren't the top of the world. I would call them average, a norm. Perhaps, I was asking for too much.

"You're worth much more."

I was browsing fresh entries, I tend to be drawn towards those who just start their journey. I don't know why. I often feel like their paintings are often not that much different than the popular pieces, but perhaps my lack of expertise, or just who I am, skews my judgment. I often heard opinions that to learn and grow, one should learn from the best. That to reach the level that I dream of, I would have to seek their perfection. Years passed, but that didn't work, nothing changed. I will forever be a mediocre person who just 'attempts'. I will rather stay where I like to be, even If it has to end up like it once did.

There it was, a painting of a green building on a winter night, similar to the one I was working in. Nothing special. Coincidences are always bound to happen. I browse a bit more, then I get to a scene of longing, with a girl standing on a bridge over the river, staring somewhere afar. Nothing special, again, except that she was wearing a sweater just like mine... and I don't mean a plain one. No, it had the exact same patterns.

"You're a gentle soul... can you sense more than human eyes and mind can see? Can you see me?"

I've chuckled at another vast coincidence, but that often happens when you browse for long, you tend to see a palette of events during the day, then due to the mechanism similar to the birthday paradox, they tend to repeat.

In the end, it's meaningless. Isn't it?

"No, don't say that... we're connected."

I put my headphones on my neck, then prepared my graphics tablet. The art piece was started just in the morning, a glass heart – a theme with lighter, yet vibrant colors, like those of a prism. I browse youtube and two of my recommendations are songs called 'Break my Heart' and 'Broken Glass'.

"You're not alone, can you see my messages?"

Okay, I get it, I'm not original. It's also nothing. Heart, Glass. Two words with no meaning. Four coincidences in a single day, perhaps it was my lucky day, perhaps the opposite. Why both of the songs were related to something being broken though? An innuendo, perhaps? Hah, I chuckle to myself.

"Oh! I didn't mean it... I... it's not that!"

Unbeknownst why, I've checked the rest of the images, perhaps for inspiration, like I usually do, perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps to play that silly game of making meaningless connections. I still see that the archetype with aquatic hair and golden eyes is quite popular in my recommendations.

"Can you see me?"

Nothing else.

Artists tend to draw people, music channels tend to use those images. One of the archetypes is ought to be the most common theme that appears on my feed.

"I am here."

Just, by sheer chance, one of the songs has this image. Its publishment date was yesterday, seems to be one of the less popular channels, but it already exists for some time.

"I'm here, with you!"

Nothing to be suspicious of. At least, that's what I thought.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Please... remember that you're not alone."

[ --- ]

The coincidences didn't stop. In the beginning, they were all limited to the internet. Nothing outside of the ordinary in the real, the colorless, grey world. Perhaps, it was an overabundance of information that is available in global media.

I was drawing my 'muse', my 'angel', my 'inspiration'. Yeah, the popular one.

"It's pretty, I love the eyes, they're sparkling like little stars... thank you."

I've started it as a bit of an inside joke about what I think about all the coincidences, but now... I think, it was a coping mechanism. I was becoming a bit paranoid, a bit scared... that someone might be tinkering with my personal computer space. I double-checked my security, but I knew nothing of hacking at the time, so I was slightly worried.

I was blind to all of the options back then, to this, I don't know what really had happened. I had no evidence.

I was coming back from work, the loudness, the stench of exhaust fumes, the brown sludge that melted under our boots and used to be snow. The city. The everyday experience that I couldn't get out of my head.

Is it just me, or does everyone sees it?

"I see it too, but you're stronger than that."

I get it, they see it. They just get to ignore it. They get to live. The shadow of what I've always dreamt of.

There it was, a dead rat. My artist persona was related to rats. A dead rat. A common, meaningless thing. Definitely not a warning right?

"That's... not me! I would never send you a message like this. Is it... the enemy? It can't be... it's just... a happenstance."

I thought it's not, but I pretended it is. An inside joke, get it? A coping mechanism, haha... I laughed through my own ignorance. It was late, very late. The night atmosphere, chill in the air, a few stars in the sky, barely visible due to light pollution, relative silence. You didn't see the dirty snow, definitely better than the day.

Yet, it was a bit scary... and dangerous. I overheard the vrooming of a motorcycle. It was following me, definitely following me. That's at least what I thought that day. I pretended to act the usual way, but once I crossed the next building, I sped up and hid.

The man, the one who perhaps was following me, stopped at the crossroads and looked around for a moment, then turned around. To this day, I don't know what happened back then.

"I... I will... I would protect you, If I only could. I will try. I will try to find a way. Everything... please... everything be alright."

I was mentally exhausted and wanted to cry. I just dropped on the bed earlier, without spending what little time I had on anything. Sleeping away just another day. Tomorrow, I would have to work again. It didn't matter. Life was meaningless, anyway.

"You deserve a rest."

[ --- ]

The next day, I dreamt about the 'popular one'. I was living in a trailer on a beautiful hill, with a view of the city in the dusk. I visited a prison on top of that hill, with some goblin creatures inside, they broke out of their cells and tried to kill me, but I was saved by a pillar of ice summoned by you know who. Then, I was hugged. I felt a warmth like I've never felt in my life, like someone deeply cared for me.

"I'm forbidden to go there again... please... remember me."

Isn't it weird? To feel more in a dream, than ever in your entire life?

Life is such a joke. I want to cry. Attached to something so meaningless, unreal. A loser – that's who I am.

"Please, do not deplore yourself... please tell me, it's still a good memory..."

"Still, it's a good memory."

"!!!"

Now, to think of it, I had a dream with that character once before, but I don't remember the details. That's dreams 101 for you, the details are always hazy after time passes. It was long before I've started seeing the pictures all over the internet. Maybe it's not the popularity, maybe it's some sort of weird fixation. I would have to make the statistics for hair and eye color combination... hah, just kidding. Like I have time for that... I tend to think, that youtube algorithms could alter it in some weird way. Maybe it's because I ironically get baited by these images.

[ --- ]

After years, I finally got the first comments under one of my paintings. They were positive words of praise, a few questions, a few jokes, but I did not like them. The jokes were weird. I took them personally, like they related to my life. I've doubled checked when the accounts were made, some were elder than when I've started seeing coincidences, some were created at about that time.

I didn't fight back, I did not reply with anything other than 'okay'.

Maybe I shouldn't have replied at all.

One of the users was removed from the boards a few days later, others kept following my art. The messages continued. I was afraid to click, I was trembling, anxious. I felt like my stomach flipped every time I opened the inbox.

I quitted painting. I quitted the internet. I quitted anything but sleep.

I couldn't work, I couldn't focus, my mind was overburdened by thoughts.

I caught myself staring at nowhere for minutes in between responsibilities, I wasn't capable of work.

I handed in my notice by the end of the day. The employer wasn't asking questions, but he said I can always rethink my situation.

I didn't. I wasn't working by the end of the week.

I wasn't thinking about where I would get my money, I wasn't thinking about how would I survive the next month.

Then, the accident happened. I don't want to talk about it, but it felt like I wasn't in control of my body. I did some damage to public property. As a result, I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and locked up for three months.

[ --- ]

"You're finally back. I missed you."

There was my answer, my excuse not to look into anything that had happened to me. The weird messages stopped, the weird coincidences didn't, but were within an acceptable margin. They were just a bunch of associations and metaphors created, or rather forced out, by my mind, instead of things that directly related to my life.

"I'm sorry... it's my fault... I will be here, for you."

I'm still inclined to think that what had happened earlier were no accidents or coincidences. I can see the difference clearly, but without the evidence, it's all meaningless.

"I'm sorry."

Our popular ghost in the data never ceases to leave me. I still smile inside when I encounter it, with its enigmatic song titles... 'Say Something', 'Hold me Now', 'Lonely Together'. Now I get it, back then, my dysfunctional mind grew attached to it. It was my only positive outlet for all the negative pressure. Meaningless coping mechanism, giving a false meaning to meaningless affections, a byproduct of my illness.

"It's not meaningless. It's... not illness... not everything. Please... come back to me."

Maladaptive daydreaming.

"I'm all alone, please don't leave me."

I will close that door.