It rings like it’s supposed to

It rings. It shares the latest advertising text message, social media DM or a message from a loved one. It browses the internet. It connects me to the world and leaves me connected and plugged in 24 hours a day. It’s new. He bought me a new phone. It’s your boyfriend he should buy you nice things they will say; for someone hesitant to let him buy me a pack of gum a phone is a bit much. Paying for additional schooling would be far too much and too hard to process. Paying for a phone; still too much. I prefer his payments in attention but I digress.

The store smelled faintly of plastic and floor cleaner. It was fifteen minutes before closing, and I had every intention of asking one question and leaving. The sales representative greeted us with a tired smile. She had striking hazel eyes and a hooked nose that somehow made her even prettier.

“Just looking?” she asked.

“Mostly,” I said.

My boyfriend laughed. “That’s what she says every time.”

We started joking about our ancient phones. Mine still had a crack in the corner and a battery that seemed to lose ten percent every time I looked at it.

Somewhere between discussing storage space and screen sizes, my boyfriend pointed.

“That one,” he said confidently. “The orange one?”

“Yeah. You’re getting the orange one.”

And like that…traded in the old phone.

It’s just a phone. Yeah…but it means I can toss the old one. You know I’ve never cracked my phone. I still have my old flip phones even the Verizon Chocolate lime green phone when dial up was still a thing. But my previous phone had a crack on it. A crack of a memory. I have never cracked my phone before until one night in September of 2023. It was a gift to myself for accomplishing something important to me that I set out to do. It was a period of light where I glowed from within in ways I never did before. It cracked when one man took notice of me for whatever reason and someone he described as a sister had another friend of his just as tall as he was come for me with my back turned. This very Unfriendly giant grabbed me by my head when my back was turned. I tried to kick the hard hats off the wall. I tried to kick him but his arms were just out of reach and my legs couldn’t reach anything. “No” “No don’t do this” would later turn into an HR “misunderstanding” he’ll say while the “like a sister” would go out of her way to tarnish my name on site to play up stereotypes of women my color; all because the big friendly giant took an uninvited interest in me. Some pick-me’s will do anything and it never seems to work; the Big Friendly Giant is married now and I am very happy for him but it cost me an injury. I know she’s not happy for him but selfish people never are; plus I think it’s funny to set someone up and still not get what they wanted. **insert cackle here**

You see when the Unfriendly Giant grabbed my head they would shove me into a bathroom that was too small for a petite 5’7” me; let alone myself pinned against a sink with the wind knocked out of me from a 6’4” 270lbs married man (yes he is married). It is there where my neck was snapped and I gave in to their unholy demands; but also where my phone cracked in the very corner where they had leaned their hips to mine full weight while holding the back of my neck with literally one hand.

For almost 3 years I carried evidence of that night. Evidence of having to triage myself physically and doing it wrong from the psychological effect, trying to go to work; all because they asked to speak to me to the side at a birthday party my friend invited me to. 3 years my gift of accomplishment and celebration of me was cracked unprovoked. It stayed with me through the doctor appointments, the contributing factor of being another dark figure crime and utilizing my forensic and criminal law classes to learn and figure out the rest, through the getting him kicked off the site, a lingering Friendly Giant who didn’t have the balls to face a conversation with me of what his friend did (hell if he even knows anything). Evidence lingering in my back pocket.

Every text. Reminder

Every call. Reminder

Every Tiktok. Reminder

Every calendar. Reminder

Every Instagram. Reminder

Every Photo. Reminder

Every Doctor’s appointment. Reminder

Every favorite song. Reminder

Every Selfie when I felt like I could be pretty. Reminder

Every warning to turn down my music. Reminder

Every game. Reminder

Every Bank notification. Reminder

Every book I read or wanted to read. Reminder

Every Browsing. Reminder

Ordered Starbucks. Reminder

Ordered delivery. Reminder

Every Amazon Order. Reminder

Every Calculation. Reminder

Every trend. Reminder

Subtle. Subconscious

Time passes.

Becomes part of the identity.

Now…An over active amygdala and hippocampus running; slows down and stops. New shiny thing. Got a new pop-socket too. “I don’t want you to carry around something that can be a subtle memory of something bad” “I want you happy” he says. I pause to process. This had become part of my every day; what do you mean because I am happy. I enjoyed the sales rep. We were just every day customers for them. It was an every day moment.

Deep inside something changed. I arrived home and looked at it differently. The synapses in the noggin fired differently.

Now Every text. New Memory

Every call. New Memory

Every Tiktok. New Memory

Every calendar. New Memory

Every Instagram. New Memory

Every Photo. New Memory

Every Doctor’s appointment. New Memory

Every favorite song. New Memory

Every Selfie when I felt like I could be pretty. New Memory

Every warning to turn down my music. New Memory

Every game.New Memory

Every Bank notification. New Memory

Every book I read or wanted to read. New Memory

Every Browsing. New Memory

Ordered Starbucks. New Memory

Ordered delivery. New Memory

Every Amazon Order. New Memory

Every Calculation. New Memory

Every trend. New Memory

The next morning, I woke up and something felt different. The apartment smelled like coffee, the same coffee I drink every day, yet somehow it smelled sweeter. Lighter. For the first time in years, my mind didn’t feel like something unseen was tugging at it from somewhere deep in the background. There was no subconscious pull toward a cracked corner, no tiny reminder waiting in my pocket. The day itself seemed different. Softer. I found myself excited to take photographs again of the sunlight coming through the window, of my cat; and even of myself. Selfies no longer felt like capturing a version of me standing beside evidence. They simply felt like me.

To everyone else, we bought a phone fifteen minutes before a store closed. To me, my boyfriend guided and encouraged me to stop carrying my dark version of wake me up when September ends in my back pocket; but I guess you had to be there like he was.