She
sat with legs crossed and face scrunched up in concentration, fingers flying all
over the face of her phone as she typed wildly, transferring the vitriol as it
formed fresh and hot in her mind to the phone.
She tapped
‘send’ and twiddled her fingers, waiting for responses to
surge forth. She had just dropped a comment on an Instagram blog post; a post
on a celebrity she hated to the core of her being because she was a rival to another
celebrity she loved.
As expected, the responses
came pouring in like a deluge; curses, rants and even threats, many of them from
trolls like her who just happened to be loyal to the other side.
It was what she
wanted. She absolutely loved it, their pain, their ire and, most importantly,
their attention. It filled her days and provided a subconsciously needed
distraction. She loved how her contrived 'facts’ about the celebrity she was
hating on stirred strong reactions and had people liking and replying in
droves, it made her feel like a genius. It didn't matter that these ‘facts’
were dreamt up; she was certain they were very close to the truth, anyway.
Today's 'fact’ was a particularly
gory narration, filled with vulgar details of how the celebrity in question had
been caught sleeping with someone's husband at an event. Of course, she never used
her true social media handle when on this trolling business, but used one she
had purposely created for it, named happyhousewyff.
Gleefully smiling, she
began countering some of the responses to her comments, sending back the curses
and boasting to those who called her bitter/jobless that she was a happily
married woman enjoying her best life, just like her handle suggested.
“Mummy, food!”
She looked up to see
her two kids, boys aged 5 and 7, fidgeting impatiently before her.
“Go and take biscuit,”
she told them.
"No, we want
food. See time,” the older one insisted.
She looked up at the
clock he was pointing at and was shocked to see the time was past 9pm. She flew
off the bed. She had been so engrossed with her social media antics that she
had not noticed the hours flying.
She had actually finished
cooking dinner at 6.30pm and was just waiting for her husband to return home
before dishing it. She wanted them to eat together for once, like one happy
family. They would just have to eat now.
“Why does this man
like behaving like this? Since 9 o’clock the he left this house.”
She dished the
children's food, gave it to them and put a call across to him. He didn't pick, but
she continued calling. Finally, he picked.
“Woman what is it, you
want to kill my battery? When you call someone twice and they don’t pick, you
should know they are busy and call later,” he coldly informed her.
“Honey, where are you?
Since morning that you left the house… time has gone…”
"Woman, don't ask
me silly questions! I will come home when I am ready." And he cut
off.
Tears collected in her
eyes. When will this man change? When
will he be a loving husband? When will he...
Notification beeps
from her phone cut into her string of thoughts. She looked at it. As expected,
they were from Instagram – more replies and reactions to her comment. She
immediately forgot the pain caused by her husband's words and, instead, began
transferring her frustration to the poor souls trapped in the quasi-reality she
had created online.
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