[mature] She didn't know who she was texting.
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Jae is a twenty-one year old Korean-American university student whose life is just ordinary. Struggling through the confines of cultural differences between her lifestyle and ethnicity, Jae finds her...
My night's worth of sleep did not do much to appease my tiredness. My eyes feel heavy and I'm tempted to fall back asleep as the softness of my pillow evades my subconscious. My mind is trying to focus on Luna's response, but the temptation to relax is high.
I'm expecting Luna to be mellow-toned in her sorrow for Auntie's passing, but instead, her voice is frantic and overwhelming to hear.
"I'm so sorry," she wails.
"Luna, it's okay," I assure her softly, "my Auntie is in a better place now."
More ragged breathing and panic overcomes the other side of the line. I'm furrowing my eyebrows at what I'm hearing, trying to imagine what expression she might have on her face. It's ironically comical that every time I talk to her, there is some other catastrophe that she is trying to explain to me. I don't know if I'm mentally prepared for what she has to spring on me. It's been quite the last couple of days...
"No," she is panicking. "Everything that they're saying about you. It's all my fault. I feel responsible."
Luna's words are almost hard to decipher because she is speaking so quickly. I sit up from my laying position and attempt to rub the tiredness away physically. It takes me a few moments to understand what she has said.
"What?" I question calmly.
The cries continue, "I should've never listened to your mom."
My mom? I'm puzzled, but I remain quiet in order to make sense out of everything she is saying. Everything they're saying about me? Who is she talking about? I glance around the room for my laptop, searching for a way to get onto the internet.
Given that we are miles away from each other, I figure the one means of information that she is talking about would be social media.
It's always social media.
"Luna," I usher, still calmly. "Please slow down. I can barely understand you."
It's then that I see it. Twitter is flooded, my notifications are at an all time high, and my name is covering every aspect of the home page. I am aware that this isn't a good thing; the light, airy mood in my room has now dissipated. My heart is beating ridiculously fast but a shock is overtaking me, and I'm slow to read the screen. There is a Twitter Moments especially assigned to me; displaying various tweets, photos, articles, etc. dedicated to me. I'm trending.
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