Alternate Reality Ramble 005

Intro

I've been thinking a lot about texting and social media in general. The world is so dependent on all of this that people rarely speak to each other and they meet much lesser as well! I feel like a cranky old grandmother saying all of this but seriously, think about it, guys. It's the age of the Internet and it's all our faults!

No, wait, you don't have to think about it. You're doing it right now!

So, I have a friend who refers to this guy I introduced to her as "The Texter". She isn't antisocial but she does dislike too much 'social', you know?
Personally, I love it when people text but I find it really annoying when people call me. But I sure as Hell take my time in texting them back. I've been yelled at so much for never picking up my phone and/or replying. Sheesh, guys, put a sock in it, will you?

So. This is an alternate reality story about:

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The Story

It was a part of her morning ritual now. It had become a part of everything that she did. She didn't think she could stop doing it, not now, not even if she wanted to and she definitely didn't want to!

It was annoying at first, back when she didn't understand and didn't bother to participate properly, but now, however, she found herself unable to stop. It was almost like breathing but not as necessary. It was obsessive and definitely selfish on her part but it was so addictive. Almost as addictive as that Avicii song "Addicted to You".

She hummed the song as she went on with her life but she kept her guilty pleasure a secret from the world. The world wasn't ready for it yet, and by the world, she was thinking of the people in it that she was personally acquainted with, of course. She did share it, once in a while, but almost reluctantly, because she didn't want to part with it too completely.

She felt oddly possessive about her little secret. Almost as if she was Jericho Barrens from the MacKayla Lane series and Mac was her secret and only hers. It made her happy and sad at the same time-she wasn't the type to be so dependent on anything but here she was, indulging in her bad habit.

She decided to give up.

Who cared about her made up rules and things anyway? She could do whatever she wanted.

Her mind told her it was fine but her heart annoyed the crap out of her decisions.

She switched her phone on again and decided that if this was a problem as bad as substance abuse then she was officially addicted. She didn't care, she was completely engulfed in it with no way out. Even if there was a way out, she doubted that she could have taken it at any point.

Texting him back was the one thing she allowed herself to do. It satisfied this deep burning need in her that she pretended didn't exist. It was the only thing she would ever allow herself.

He replied within a minute, a drug was always best when it was most effective.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Her head ignored it, as it always did,

but secretly, she was a little girl who always wondered, "What if?"