Horror Stories

Phone Addiction

My wife says I'm addicted to my phone, but I could say the same about her. That's the world we live in now, isn't it?

You find an interesting article on Reddit or you get a new comment on your Instagram that you need to reply to.

It's easy to lose track of time when surfing the web on your phone.

I personally don't see the harm in it, but it's the main thing we argue about in our marriage.

"For Christ's sake will you get off your phone and help me with the baby!?" She screamed at me from the bedroom.

The baby was crying and had been for some time, but I had tuned her out while I was reading an article about Virginia Woolf on Wikipedia.

"I need time to myself," she said in an annoyed tone as she handed me our eleven week old daughter.

"Just make sure she's asleep by the time I get home. She doesn't need a bath." She grabbed her car keys and began to walk out the door, but turned back and reminded me for the twentieth time that night to stay off my phone.

The baby was still throwing a fit in my arms, so I decided to start a bath for her, something that never failed to calm her down.

I didn't care if my wife didn't want me to give her one. I got the water to just the right temperature before putting her in.

The warm water mixed with the tiny amount of bubbles was just the trick to put a smile on her face. She splished and splashed about, laughing and cooing. I loved the sounds she made during bath time.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, a new notification perhaps.

I unlocked my iPhone and was greeted by several new comments on my Instagram picture I posted of me and my daughter.

After Instagram I checked Facebook and Twitter too, followed a few more accounts I found interesting.

Another notification popped up on my phone, "20% of battery remaining." How was that possible, my phone was at 100% when I came in here.

I didn't want to, I tried so hard to avoid it, but I forced myself to look down into the cold porcelain of the tub.

She wasn't splashing. She wasn't cooing or laughing or even crying. The color had run out of her face, out of her entire body.

From the living room I heard the front door shut, I heard my wife putting her keys back into the key basket.

Panic set in and my heart beat quickened. I had no idea how I was going to tell her that I let this happen again.