Digital Detox Survival Challenge

of absolute betrayal, radiating from my family as they stood by the luxury RV, watching me. My sister, Ashley, held up her phone, the little red light

med for the camera, her voice per

died, went viral, Ashley' s follower count exploded by millions. They celebrated my death, my parents and sister, raking in donations, sponsorship deals, and living a life of luxury built on my corpse and their lies. They told the world I had a tech addic

hing, just a final,

il

m my lungs, raw and painful, I sat up, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it felt like a trapped bird. My hands flew t

stand, my fingers clumsy and shaking,

ber

me into the "digital detox survival challenge." I had come back. I had actually come back. A hysterical l

knocking, as always. Her face was perfectly made up, her blonde hair

dea, and we need you to get ready," she said, her voice dripp

hone already in hand, a brigh

o your computer, I think we need a family trip, a real bonding experience," she chirped,

k smile on his face, always the enabler, a

arah, some fresh air," he

llowers, these smiling, soulless monsters who had profited from my murder. The hatred that rose in m

their wealthy friends, a man who turned out to be violent and unstable, they framed my refusal as another example of me being "difficult" and "sabotaging my own happiness." They had backed me into a corner, using emotional blackmail un

would be

er, her hand already twitching toward her purse as if counting the money this stunt would bring i

oss my face, a smile th

, my voice surprisingly steady. "You know wha

prepared for a fight, my mother looked pleased,

ked, a flicker of s

h as glass. "I think it's exa

finally seeing the light. And then, when we were deep in the wilderness, far from any help, I would make the

ctical gear. But in the back of my mind, I was making a different list, a list of items from my workshop in the garage, items that were small, easil