“You need to stop.”
They were simple words. A seemingly easy command but not everything was as it seemed. Simple was not something quite associated with me, ever. Easiness was in the eye of the beholder. However, my eyesight was fading. Side effect number one.
It’s not easy when your bones ache for it, your mind only thinks of it, your lungs breathe it in and your heart pumps it through your body. Addiction.
“Sara, we love you.”
I wanted to yell a list of why they didn’t, couldn’t because they didn’t accept me as I was. But I didn’t want to be compared to any of those people on the television show. I didn’t need an intervention.
* * *
I was immediately aware of the situation as soon as I walked through my front door. A quaint circle of support in the living room that suddenly tensed up when I stepped over the threshold. Even Ryan was there, shifting in his seat next to my father of all people.
“Oh, hell no.” I spun on my heels to retreat upstairs.
“Honey, wait,” My mother reached out, quicker than I could get away and pulled me close, “We need to talk to you.”
“You mean ambush me,” I said flatly, ripping my arm from her grasp, “I cannot believe this.”
My father cleared his throat, something he always did when he was saying something important. For the first time in my life I didn’t want to hear what Daddy had to say, “You have a problem and we want to help you.”
I laughed. A problem, “I don’t need help with anything.”
“Come on, babe, just listen,” His sparkling blue eyes were like kryptonite but now; I could bear to look away.
I placed my hands over my ears and hummed childish songs. They would not win with me.
“You need to stop,” My father’s voice penetrated through my fortress of solitude.
I dropped my hands to my sides, “There’s nothing to stop.”
“And how did you know I was even back yet? I told you I’d text you when you could come over.”
He rubbed his face in his hands, “You told me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did. And all your other followers,” He was exasperated, “You can’t even remember…”
The ticking of the grandfather clock became audible above all. It was blaring. I could barely concentrate. What were they talking about again…
“Really Sara, how many updates do we need a day? Who cares if you’re going to the bathroom or eating a snack?”
“What…are you talking about?”
“Oh Sara, don’t be like this.”
Anxiety rose up my chest, taking no prisoners. My lungs felt tight, my throat burned with every breath. I only knew one release but I was stuck here talking about…
“Twitter, Sarah. We’re talking about fucking Twitter,” Ryan burst. A firm hand on his shoulder pulled him back, requiring him to regain his composure before he continued.
“Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Like one could be addicted to Twitter.
My mother nodded, “We’re concerned, honey. It’s not…healthy.”
“It’s a social networking tool,” I stated matter-of-factly, “It’s like saying you don’t want me to have friends.”
“Don’t put words in our mouth, young lady,” My father rose, towering above me.
I began pacing the room. Boy, were my followers going to love this. Addiction to Twitter. That had to be a new one for the books. Maybe I’d become famous. Maybe I already was. How many followers did I have now?
“We think it’d be better if you experimented in other areas of expression,” My mother interjected sweetly.
“Yeah, areas that don’t involve you chronicling your day second-by-second,” Ryan’s response was a little more bitter.
I threw my hands up, “I cannot believe this.”
“I know you’re frustrated,” The voice of reason chimed in, “But we’re frustrated too. We just want our Sar Bear back.”
“Stop!” I snapped, “Just stop. I do not have a problem.”
“Prove it,” Ryan challenged me.
“Prove to us you don’t have a problem.”
He looked between me and my parents, “Delete it.”
“You cannot be serious right now! It’s a Twitter.”
My father shook his head, “You leave us no choice.”
“What are you going to do?”
He rubbed the tension from his temples; “We’re taking the computer out of your room and turning the messaging feature off of your cell phone.”
“You are all insane,” I screamed furiously, “Mom, you cannot let him do this.”
She looked at me with those sad eyes. Years of battles with my older siblings had worn her down and here I was begging for her to fight back, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”
“Don’t forget about her iPod touch,” Ryan added. I shot him a venomous glare. Whose side was he on anyway?
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” I repeated the words over and over, backing myself in the corner while prying hands tried to take away my life right before my eyes.
“Sara, we love you.”
I crumbled to the floor in a heap, unable to form any coherent sentences, retorts, anything.
“It’s for the best, honey.”
I just sat, it a jumbled mess on the floor. My cheeks were wet with tears I didn’t realize I cried. This was not best.
“Come on, babe, even Miley deleted hers.”
Rub salt in my wounds, why don’t you? “And I’m still trying to get over that.”