It started off like any other night. The day was winding down. Homework still had to be done, but that could be put off for another day. Instead, it was time for a hearty dose of Internet surfing. I clicked on the Firefox icon on the desktop, ready to get lost in a few videos on Hulu.
Then, something went horribly wrong. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t ready. Firefox just opened up an error page. There were words on the screen saying “could not connect to server” or something ridiculous like that. The words were hard to read through the tears. Before I knew it, I was on the phone with my internet provider.
“I–I don’t understand. I don’t quite get it. I can’t connect to the Internet” I told the voice at the other end.
“To speak to a Qwest agent, please press seven” she said.
“No, you aren’t listening to me! The Internet is down!”
“For billing services, please press eight or stay on the line.”
I let out a yelp as I threw my telephone out of the window. That’s when the darkness crowded around me. I knew I was alone. I could not contact any of my friends or family without Facebook. I could not find directions to their houses without Google maps. It seemed like my life was wasting away.
“So, this is how it’s supposed to end?” I said a loud to my stuffed teddy bear as I lit a cigarette. “I always thought my death would be much more glorious than this.”
I nervously caressed my chin, feeling the stubble of my growing beard like a war-torn soldier in the trenches. Suddenly, there was an electric shock of energy through my spine. Hatred came over me. I despised the Internet and all of technology for ruining my life, causing me to spin out of control.
I looked at the modem sitting on my desk. The rhythmic flashing of the amber-colored light blinking on and off like a metronome of doom ignited a flame within my chest. I grabbed the modem and yanked on it, pulling out the chords, looking upon them as if they were the bloody entrails of its robotic insides. The sight was disgusting. I blacked out. It was over. This was it, my life had ended.
I woke up a few days later. My room smelled of cigarette ashes and onions. My teddy bear was dried stiff from a mixture of drool and tears. The computer looked at me. The screen was cold, dark and completely lifeless. I opened the shades of my window. I could tell it was about noon from the position of the sun. The day was a mystery. I might have been passed out for a day, a week, maybe even a year.
The tangle of chords that were once connected to my modem were in the same spot as I last remember them. Was I in hell, heaven or purgatory? It didn’t matter. I already experienced death. I plugged the chords back into the modem. The lights flashed as it dialed in. Suddenly, they were a solid green. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I logged onto Twitter: “Had some computer troubles. #FML”
