Look What You Made Me Do
When you’re gone, you are gone. There is no magical lamp that will bring you back or fairy godparent that will grants your parents one wish. You will be six feet under and you will rot. It is a choice you will have to make. You can either pick me up to reply to this text and suddenly be nothing. Or, you can look straight ahead and stop at that red light. It does not matter that Emma’s boyfriend dumped her and she needs your support. Emma can wait. It does not matter than Ethan is stranded at the airport and you need to see what is the address. He can wait. I guess I forgot that I am known for clinging on to your damp palms all hours of the day. I am your biggest weakness and your ultimate best friend. I am there for you when no one else was. I allowed you to contact your father when he was thousands of miles away overseas. I am the one you’ve grown to appreciate. Pick me up. Text Emma back and let Ethan know you’re on the way. Do it. I dare you. One little peek would not hurt. You got away with it in math. You also dodged a bullet when your mom did not threaten to take me away when she was scolding you. If I buzz just a little louder than will you reconsider? What if I glitch and accidentally fake as if I’m going dead? Will that scare you a little? And here you go. Eyes darting from the road to my beautiful and freshly fixed screen. There you go, keep on reaching. Keep on looking. But what about that woman crossing the street. Her and her little girl trying to get home. Did they talk to you too? Did they warn you too? Can they do what I do? No, they can not. When the cops arrived and you were screaming at yourself in pure horror. I was still in your hand. Watching your mistakes come alive right in front of you. Just before I could land on the cushion seats of your convertible. The last words I heard from you were, “Look what you made me do”
A short story about the dangers of texting and driving. Even when you are not physically on your phone, the thought of it is very tempting.