A Personal Appeal

The light from his screen flickered in the room otherwise filled with darkness, highlighting the man's furrowed brows. The lack of proper air circulation caused the man to form beads of sweat that fell from his face, splashing on his keyboard as he relentlessly punched in the keys. "A personal appeal from Wikipedia founder, Jimmy Wales", the e-mail's subject had read. His right hand glided to the mouse as he pressed on the send button, and all he could do was wait.

"I don't have that kind of money, at least not yet. I am sure you know very well that Wikipedia is not a proper source of income. Give me some more time, I can gather it soon. But if you lay a finger on my baby, rest assured, you won't be getting anything in the form of currency.

Jimmy Wales

Founder of Wikipedia"

He was running out of time, and he knew that. Those bastards took the only thing he had ever truly loved, and all he had to protect her was a thinly veiled threat under the guise that he could indeed muster up the money somehow. But he couldn't. What he typed in the e-mail was true, and Wikipedia, along with himself, had been running solely on donations up until now. Donations that he knew would already have ceased to exist if not for the advertizement he had created with the help of MS Paint: a simple banner, a plea for help, that rode horizontally across the web pages of his only successful project. His eyelids beginning to feel heavy, Jimmy traced circles on his temples in a tamed frustration.

He groggily turned around in the net cafe's deteriorating office chair to face the back wall as his computer attempted to shut itself down, slowly getting up while keeping his gaze steady. He took a long chug of the cheap convenience store bought beer before hesitantly grabbing at the keys for the main door. He knew better than to trust the police with a case such as this. No, this was something he had to face alone. The last thing he needed was for the general public to know of his predicament. As he made towards the exit and brisked a step outside, he took one last look through the small window paneled on the decaying wooden door before drawing out a sigh that reeked of alcohol.

Waiting seemed to be all he did nowadays.