Emily gasped for air as she typed her reply. This had crossed the realm of simply "strange." Few things frightened her now in life, but this...Noah Logan, whoever he was, scared the living daylights out of her. Why had he taken a sudden interest in her...and her death? Why, out of all the computers in cyberspace, had he chosen hers?

    Emily could have asked "why" for years and never gotten an answer on her own. Her only hope was to ask this Noah. Her fingers seemed to flow with lead as she slowly and heavily typed her reply. She didn't want to know, but if this guy was for real, she had to know.

    "How?" was all she managed to type. Oh, how she wished she could have typed more, been clever, been witty. But, something about this Noah fellow made her nervous. If she was too personal, too nonchalant with her remark, this Noah would know he had gotten to her. No, a simple, one-word answer was the best way to go.

      There was no reply from Noah...not yet anyway. Emily could feel the frustration and fear well up within her. Her fingers twitched above the keyboard.

    "You said I would die." she typed feverishly. "You said you would tell me. Now I am asking. Tell me how I die...and how I can avoid it."

    For several minutes Emily stared at the blank screen. Only her aquamarine type stared back at her. After what seemed like ages, two words of plain, black text appeared.

    "You can't."

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