Screen Light in the Darkness

Maya's iPhone screen glowed at 2:47 AM, casting ghostly shadows across her ceiling as she doomscrolled through yet another Instagram feed of perfect lives. She felt like a zombie, hollowed out by three hours of sleep and endless scrolling, watching her classmates live their best filtered lives while she lay tangled in sweat-dampened sheets, overthinking every interaction from the day before.

That's when she saw it—Emma's post from ten minutes ago. Her best friend. The one who'd barely spoken to her all week at school. The caption read: "some people aren't who you think they are 🤡" tagged at that party Maya hadn't been invited to.

Maya's heart hammered. She became a spy now, obsessively tracking Emma's digital footprint—likes, comments, mutuals' stories, anything to piece together what she'd done wrong. Every notification became evidence in the case against herself. Had she said something weird? Was everyone laughing at her behind her back?

Her phone buzzed—Emma.

"u up?"

Maya stared at the screen, fingers trembling. Why reach out now? Was this a trap? More spying revealed Emma had also left Maya on read for three days earlier this week.

"yeah," Maya typed, then deleted. "no," she typed, then deleted. Finally: "why"

"i saw u left me on read earlier"

Maya's zombie brain rebooted. She HADN'T. She'd opened that message during chem class when Mr. Harrison confiscated her phone for "vibrating aggressively" (it was on silent, he was just being dramatic). She'd forgotten to respond.

"omg no mr h took my phone i'm sorry"

"lmao i knew it. i was spiraling thinking u hated me"

"i thought u hated ME bc of that caption"

"that was about sarah stealing my lunch money lmao"

They texted until sunrise, two exhausted zombies bonded by overthinking and digital miscommunication. Maya fell asleep with her phone clutched to her chest, finally at peace. Some spy mission. The only enemy had been her own anxiety all along.