So, I rewrote the ending of this story after I posted it because I wasn't satisfied with the previous ending. So, if your interested, feel free to read this. I swear its better! DX

Well, maybe not to you, but it is to me. :3

First World Problems

(^^This is actually the official title I gave it when I turned it into class. Its suposed to be clever because... yeah... hopefully you'll see... )

It was late when I entered, and my living room was dark. With the flip of a switch it could have been illuminated by light, changed, but I didn’t bother and the darkness seeped into my walls. I sighed and settled down into the comforts of home. Once I was seated I grabbed the remote control. My television whirred to life and the voices of strangers filled my ears as their faces flashed across my screen. The news was on; it was always on.

I sat back on my couch and stared at the T.V. before me. I couldn’t move as I watched. Another bombing somewhere in the world. Another man shot in the streets. Another child put in danger. The voices of BBC droned on as I stared back at the T.V screen in silence. It was like this everyday. The same stories over and over again. It made me sick to hear such horrific stories and to see each gruesome picture displayed before me, but the reporters’ faces never changed and neither did mine. I wasn’t living it. It was far away; in Africa, the Middle East, and China even. Why should I worry about protests in Hong Kong? Or the growing tensions between North and South Korea? I was just watching T.V. It’s just another show. As long as I stayed here on my cozy couch, nothing could hurt me. I was untouchable.

I watched as more and more happened. Eventually the show ended for the day, although I was sure to find the stories again somewhere with the press of a button. But I left it as it was and laughed as I watched some mindless latenight followup. There was no point to it, yet it was so addicting. My face contorted into a multitude of faces, all trying to cover up the pain of what I’d previously seen. But the anchors were never affected, so why should it hurt me? And so I just laughed and pushed back the bile in my throat. I laughed and pretended that everything was okay and that the world was not dying behind my T.V. screen.  

There was a robbery down the street; a little too close for comfort. I was sure to lock all my doors and windows that night. I kept a bat by my bed as I slept, just in case. Every creak in the old house terrified me as I waited for the masked man to come and take me away. But he never did and I woke the next morning with a bat by my bed and shook my head. How foolish of me; this only happens on T.V. I returned the bat to its proper place, far from my room, and went about my day. That night I watched the T.V.: it was that gruesome show called the news again: telling me stories of people’s horrible days. While I watched, I just sat; that’s all I could do. I sat and I stared, barely hearing a word. Because listening meant that I knew; that I knew what was going on. If I don’t know I can just ignore it and go on with my life. Starving kids in Africa? How can I trust your source? I try to justify my lack of expression by telling myself it’s all a lie. In fact, this is only television. T.V shouldn’t be taken too seriously anyway, right? I yawned and stretched, ready for bed. No bat for me tonight. It’s all in my head.

And so I fell asleep on the couch, while the T.V. blared incessantly before me. It was dark when I awoke with a fright, the news still on. An urgent report! What hellish thing has happened now?! I watched on in awe as the news reporter began to sweat. He wasn’t stoic this time and that scared me to death. If he can react, then surely I must. But it’s all a lie! That’s what I’ve always told myself! I hurriedly pressed power and the man’s face faded from my screen. But the image of his frightened eyes still lingered in my mind. I breathed in deeply as I wrapped myself in the blankets. I tried to snuggle back down, too scared to leave the safety of my couch.

I woke up again, and the T.V. was on. The same man stared back at me, his face set in a frown.

“Something must be done!” A man cried; he was somewhere far away like Turkey or China. My eyes were bleary as I took it all in. The violence, the murder, the corruption; it all blurred together. I shut my eyes in hopes of blocking it out, but it’s as if the volume grew louder and louder.

“Stop it!” I yelled, “Just stop it already! I get it, I get it!” I got up in a hurry and turned it off.

The silence was deafening as I took my seat. I stared avidly at the blank screen before me. Nothing is happening. Isn’t that nice for a change? I smiled as I took in the silence. Then it all happened at once. The T.V. and I let out a scream.

“No! Shut up! I told you to stop!” And I stood once again, pulling the plug. It went out with a flash and I stood there panting, tears streaking down from my eyes. “Stop it… Just stop…” I murmered while wiping my eyes, plug still clasped in my hand tightly.

The T.V. remained unplugged and my life went on without it. The silence was golden and I fell asleep in my bed with a smile for the first time in weeks. The next morning I awoke with a strange feeling. I slowly crept down the stairs, turning on the lights as I went. With the flip of a switch I was able to see everything at once.  My back door hung open, and the window was smashed. My eyes traced down the hallway and through the doorways: everything was trashed. And in the middle of it all sat my T.V. It was on and the volume was loud. I broke out in a sweat and sunk to the ground, covering my ears in a desperate attempt to block it all out. I tried, but I couldn’t and the voices jumped around in my head, telling me of all I had done wrong. My mind raced and I began to wonder: was someone watching me now as I had watched them? Did they stare on passively as I sat on the stairs in tears? Did they frown and change the channel as the police arrived to fill out yet another report? I blinked and the images were gone, but my thoughts were still a mess. How could this happen!? Who would do this to me!? I had done nothing! Nothing!

And then I thought again. I had done nothing. Exactly: nothing! I had witnessed such horrific things on that television - and still did as it blared before me - yet had done nothing. I was given the knowledge and a chance to make things better, but I failed. My heart ached as I rocked myself back and forth on the stairs. I ripped at my hair as I mourned the child shot last week, protesters silenced, the innocent bystanders caught between gunfire in so many places in the world. How had I convinced myself that this was not a problem? None of this is real! But it was – it is! – and it was evident all around me in the form of a dissembled home and there was no escaping it now.

I wanted to get up and smash the machine to pieces, or at least turn it off, but I was rooted to my spot and I watched on in horror as the news played out before me. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. The voices on the screen seemed to mock me as I wept. I stood and walked purposefully towards the device with all intents of turning it off. I allowed myself to kneel before it, reaching for the circle entitled power.

And pressed.