I've been blocked from every social media platform for 11 days

Let me explain. I didn’t break any rules or post anything inappropriate. I think it’s something to do with the girl who contacted me on the first day of this weird cyber ban I’ve found myself in. It started on a Tuesday. I was on Twitter as @lucyfeatherston when suddenly I get a suspension notification… but not just Twitter. Every social media platform, including my somewhat forgotten Instagram and Facebook accounts. As a student journalist for a university newspaper, my online presence is important. I rely on social media to run our online edition smoothly. Therefore, I write an appeal and decide to take a break from the online world. It was Sunday when I started getting weird messages from the blocked social media apps. The messages were just random letters, like someone was testing a keyboard. I didn’t think much of it, assuming it was a glitch, but if I’m being totally honest it freaked me out a little. I was alone in my dorm when I got the first message. It was from a girl with a weird username that seemed to be made up of random letters and numbers. Her profile picture was a meme of a cartoon girl winking and sticking up her middle finger. It gave me weird vibes, and I didn’t think much of her friend request until she messaged me. “Hi, is this Lucy?” she replied. “Yes, it is. But how did you get past my block?” “You can call me Rachel. Or Luna. Whatever you prefer,” she replied, ignoring my question. I was growing suspicious, wondering who this person was and how she knew my name. I asked her, but she just replied with more random letters and smiley faces. I felt like I was chatting with a spam bot. I decided to play along, asking her what she wanted. After all, I was bored and had nothing better to do with my free time. “I want to be your friend,” she replied. “But you have to delete all of your social media accounts. Then I can show you all the things I have to show you.” “Things?” I asked. “There’s a whole world beyond those limits you call social media,” she replied. “There are so many things to show you. But first, you must delete your accounts.” I laughed out loud. “What the hell? Why?” “It’s better for you. Trust me. If you want to see the truth, you need to be willing to let go of the things you don’t need. Are you going to do it?” “Are you insane? I’m a journalist. Those accounts are important for me.” “I can help you with that. I can make you famous,” she replied. “You’re talented. I’ve been following your work. I can show you worlds beyond your imagination, worlds you can write about. But you need to delete your accounts first.” I laughed again, but there was something about her words that sent shivers down my spine. She was right. I was talented. I was a good journalist, and everyone knew it. What if she was telling the truth? What if there was something beyond what I thought I knew, something that would give me the recognition I deserved? I decided to play along. Rachel was growing increasingly creepy, but I wanted to know what she had to show me. I agreed, and she told me exactly what she wanted me to do. The next morning, at 2 am, I was to go to the alley behind our dorm building. She said she’d be waiting with further instructions. Then she disappeared. I woke up at 2 am, my hear racing fast. I checked my phone, but there were no messages from Rachel. I went to the window and looked down at the alley. There was a woman standing down there, but she wasn’t wearing the winking cartoon girl costume I was expecting. “Rachel?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, come down,” she replied. I took the elevator. The whole ride, my stomach was twisting and turning. I had no idea what I was doing, but somehow I felt like I had made a mistake by trusting Rachel. Something was telling me to turn around and go back upstairs, but my curiosity had already taken over. She smiled when I got out of the elevator. My friend was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, and her long black hair shone in the dim light of the alley. She looked like any other student, except for her eyes. They were black. I don’t know how to explain it. They were as black as coal, and I couldn’t see her pupils. “What the bravest little girl you are,” she said, her voice low and sweet. “Let me show you the way.” I had no idea where we were going or what we were going to do. When I walked behind her, I realized that the alley was much longer than I thought. The building that now seemed to loom over us was huge, towering over me like a giant. It looked abandoned except for the light in one of the windows. A faint red light that reflected off the dark asphalt. “Where are we going?” I asked. “To the place beyond the limits,” she replied. I started getting nervous, wondering what I had gotten myself into. But Rachel took my hand and dragged me along with her, and I had no choice. We walked through a narrow corridor between two buildings until we reached a small door. Rachel opened it with a key, and we found ourselves in a dimly lit stairway. There was no elevator. She guided me up the stairs, and I realized we were climbing all the way to the top floor. My heart was pounding, and the red lights reflecting off the walls made me feel sick to my stomach. “Are you alright?” she asked when we stopped at the door to the top floor. “Yes,” I replied, though I wasn’t really. Rachel opened the door. It was a huge elevator, five times the size of our building’s elevator. And the button panel had two buttons: up and down. Rachel pressed the up button and gestured for me to come in. “I’ll wait down here,” she said. I stepped into the elevator and closed my eyes as it carried me upward. I had no idea how high we were going or what was waiting for me upstairs. The only thing I knew was that my heart was pounding and that I was scared. I remember that the ride took forever, at least 15 minutes. It seemed like an eternity until the elevator finally stopped. I opened my eyes and looked around, but there were no windows. A cold, blue light enveloped me, and I felt a strange chill. The doors opened, and I stepped out into the unknown. I was standing on a platform, and there was a long hallway ahead of me. I couldn’t see anything else. That was all I had. A long, dark hallway with doors on both sides, and the blue light that surrounded me. “Hello?” I asked. “Welcome,” someone replied, though I couldn’t see who. “Who is this?” I asked. “My name is John Smith. I think you’ve heard of me. Or should I say, you would have heard of me if you hadn’t been living in a box your whole life.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied. “Good. Then you can be convinced. You see, we’re like the lady in your story, the one with the hair that grows when you sleep. But instead of hair, it’s social media.” “Who are you?” I asked. “We’re the people,” he replied. “And you know what they say. The people have the power.” “Why are you holding me here?” I asked. “We want to help you uncover the truth. You see, social media isn’t real. It’s all a simulation, a distraction. But you can see through the glass if you want. You can see the world in all its glory.” I heard footsteps echoing through the hallway. Suddenly, a figure appeared before me. “Do you want to see?” it asked. “Yes,” I said. The figure reached out and touched my face. Everything went dark. When I came to, I was back in my dorm room. There was a note on my bed: “They’re watching you. This time, you’re on your own.” I checked my phone, but there were no messages from Rachel. The weird thing was that my social media ban was lifted. I could post whatever I wanted without any problems. It was weird. But I decided to write a story about what I had experienced. Maybe it would help me process it. Maybe someone would read it and understand. I wrote this whole post on Twitter, posting it in real time as it happened. I’m posting it here as well because for some reason I don’t want to delete it. I was done writing when my phone started buzzing like crazy. I got notifications from Twitter, Instagram, Facebook… and they all said the same thing. “Your account has been permanently suspended.” “Your account has been permanently suspended.” “Your account has been permanently suspended.” I’m writing this on Chambers, the only social media platform that still lets me in, but I don’t know if anyone will see this. I don’t know if they’ll allow it either. All I know is that I need to get out of here.

I've been blocked from every social media platform for 11 days

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