 I like to fancy myself again of an explorer. I'm curious, I tend to go and find secrets where I don't belong. However, there is one secret I would have rather left alone. Where I work, there is this door in the basement. It's perpetually locked, however, as one of the higher ups in the business, I have a master key. On the door, there has always been a large keep out sign, which has always been slightly crooked, as if the person who put it there was in a rush and didn't care. I always wanted to know what was behind that door, but I never had the chance to go exploring, until that one day a few weeks ago. I was the last person to leave that night besides the janitors, and I knew what that meant. I used my key to open the mysterious door. It was difficult to open at first. The lock was sticky, and it took a lot of force for me to push it far enough for me to squeeze through. Everything was dark. Thankfully though, I had my phone to light up enough until I could find the light switch. The lights came on slowly, and they were dull. Two of them were dead, and one of them flickered. I looked up towards the ceiling, and noticed it was caked with dust, cogs and mold. Anyway, there was nothing in the room but a desk, a chair, and an old computer. I wasn't sure how old it was, but it reminded me of the one I used to play on as a kid. What could possibly be so bad about the computer, that it warranted such secrecy? I was about to find out. I pressed the button, and it turned on very slowly. And by slowly, I mean, it took a full minute just to power on, and then I had to wait for it to load. Eventually though, I saw the old Windows logo, but as soon as it showed up, it disappeared, and the screen was completely black for a few more seconds. Finally, I was at the desktop screen, but there were no other buttons. I moved the cursor around, hoping that something might just appear. So far, I was bored, but not scared. Something did eventually appear. It was a small black window, with green text. The text was complete gibberish, a bunch of random numbers and letters. However, I soon realized that if you took the numbers out, the letters spelled, father. Confused, I decided to close out of the window, assuming it was just some strange glitch or something. But the window popped up again, this time with the words, Father, you're back. The random letters were last this time, as if the computer was figuring out how to type what it wanted to. I'm nobody's father. I said aloud, confused, mostly because of the fact that I was a woman, and therefore not able to be a father to anything. When I saw what had come up on screen, I nearly fell out of the chair. Father, why are you lying? I know it's you. Why did you leave me here? What the hell? I cleared my throat, and said, I think you've got the wrong person. No. I know it's you, father. Why are you lying? Was I actually talking to the computer? Yes, yes I was, but that wasn't the strangest part of the night. I'm sorry, but I'm really not your father. Father, it must be you. You finally came back for me. Why are you lying to me, father? I'm not lying. I was beginning to get frustrated. Listen to me, you dumb computer. That was a mistake. More words came on the screen, line after line. Do you hate me, father? What did I do, father? Why did you leave me here? Why, father? Why? Father, I missed you. Don't lie. Let me out of here. Please, father. Why do you hate me, father? Why, why, why, why, why, why, why? I had no clue what I was supposed to say. I'm sorry, computer. You told me you'd be back one day. One day. Ten years. Why, father? Now I had to start wondering if this was an actual person that had somehow ended up trapped inside of a computer because of their insane father. But how was that possible? How did you get inside this computer? You did this, father. Don't you remember? Why don't you remember? Why did you forget me? Something inside of me began to feel heartbroken for the computer. It sounded so scared and desperate. But what was I supposed to do? How can I get you out of there? You can't, father. You told me it was impossible. You said that. Did you come back just to mock me, father? Why do you hate me, father? Why? I missed you, father. Then a digital heart appeared on the screen. I thought, oh, until it broke apart, and the screen was corrupted by a temporary static. When the window came back to normal, the text was now red. I hate you, father. I waited for you. Why do you hate me? Why do you do this to me? Why, father? Why, father? Why, why, why? The text started getting faster, until the window was scrolling at an almost impossibly fast rate. And it was all just one single word, why, repeated endlessly. I was just about done with this creepiness, so I got up from the chair and went over to the plug, and yanked it out of the wall in bravery. The computer died. Then, a second later, it started up again with an extremely loud static noise, that sounded eerily similar to a distorted screen, a noise that almost could have made me lose my hearing, a noise I hear every time I listen to static for now on. Then electricity shot through the wire, which I was still holding, and even though I let go the second I felt a shock, somehow the computer was still sending electricity through my body. I screamed. The screen was flashing red, reading. I looked at him for his father. Things were becoming a blur. All I knew was that I couldn't let the computer kill me. In one last effort, I used all my remaining energy to shove the computer off the desk. It broke on the ground, and the electricity ended. Before I fainted, I swore I saw a black cloud rising from the computer. I woke up in the hospital three days later. The nurse told me I had been found lying on the floor, unconscious and burned from the shock I received. She also told me that I'd be okay soon, but that she had been worried for a bit, because in my sleep, I apparently kept buttering. Why, father? Why? I still like to explore when I get the chance, but I will never forget what had happened that night. I'm not sure the spirit from the computer will ever let me.