Cyber Bully

I

Cy•ber•bul•ly•ing
Noun
1. The use of electronic communication to bully a person, typically by sending messages of an intimidating or threatening nature.

The white arrow hovered over the definition of cyber bullying in the same way my fingers hovered over the mouse.

Who knew that what I did as a pastime had a definition. Had meaning.

I blinked my eyes to clear the haze and clicked out of the Wikipedia page, leaning back in my chair as I opened up my social media.

I had over 1,000 followers. I was popular.

A message appeared on my dash and I clicked it. It read:

'Why are you so mean?'

My fingers moved across the keyboard, typing my response.

'Because' it began 'ugly losers like you shouldn't even have social media...nobody wants to have to look at your face every time they open up the app!'

I don't really know why I did stuff like this. What I do know is that even if I had a reason for it, it wouldn't justify my actions.

I guess maybe I just wanted the attention.

There was another message. It was the same girl from before.

'What do you suggest I do then? Live like a hermit? No thank you!'

For some reason I laughed.

But it was then, a thought had entered my mind. I did have a suggestion. It wasn't a good one either.

When I typed next, my fingers moved across the keyboard almost automatically, like the computer knew what my answer was going to be even before I did. Like it knew how cruel I was, and just how sinister I could be.

I hadn't sent the message yet when I checked it over for typos:

'Now that you mention it, I  do have a suggestion...if you would just kill yourself then we important people wouldn't have to deal with you anymore...'

I clicked send.

It wasn't until three hours later, when I had come back upstairs from eating dinner to check my message box and found it empty, that I realized just what I had done.

"...And it wasn't until the next day-when my mother got a phone call-that I felt my heart break."

I wipe the tears from my eyes with a tissue, guilt spreading over me how it usually does when I speak about my high school years.

The faces in the audience convey their disapproval, some showing pure horror.

I look away in shame.

"So..." began the t.v. host "if you could have stopped yourself from sending that message, would you?"

I clear my throat.

"Well that's the thing. I could have stopped that message, I just chose not to. There's no taking that back."

The crowd murmurs their agreement.

"So instead, I spread the word so that nobody else does what I did. So that nobody else has to go through what that little girl went through. And you know something? You can spread the word too!"