Nora had been staring at the screen and typing for two and a half hours; not a record because she had spent five to nine hours on many days, sometimes in succession, breaking only for food and bathroom breaks.
Then the screen turned black. In a second it turned grainy gray. And pale green. One sentence of six words appeared in the middle of the screen.
This is Not Your Brain Speaking
"What the .." Nora exclaimed to no one in particular. Not even looking around, her eyes were still fixed on the screen. She clicked delete. Nothing. Then, "Alt ctrl delete". Then she tried shutting down. Nothing. She was reaching for the plug at the wall when new scripts appeared on the screen.
" Don't even try. It won't work. Go ahead. Try it".
Nora was smart enough to realize this was highly irregular. Her computer was hacked. She had no choice except perhaps to get the phantom writer to reveal more about itself so she stopped her attempt to unplug her computer, then she typed, "Who are you?"
"You can't even remember the last six words? Okay. I repeat, I am not your brain speaking".
"What does that even mean? If you are trying to be obnoxious, you are succeeding aimlessly."
"You used to write better than that. You won an essay contest as a freshman in high school. And you were the only freshman who submitted an entry. You put to shame the class valedictorian and editor of the high school paper. What happened?"
Nora typed furiously using all caps, "GO AWAY!" Then she crossed her hands across her chest."
"Yes, that's what you wanted to do, isn't it? You want everything to go away?"
Nora didn't respond.
"How long have you had that bottle of pills by the keyboard? Are you going to do it because your chat room buddies say you should? Killing yourself is not the answer. That is so cliché, you used to say. I'm not here to add to the clichés nor to egg you on. Those are not friends - anonymous and unknowable characters in the social media you have been sucked into."
Nora finally uncrossed her arms and began tapping.
"I am going to walk away. This is it." Then she grabbed the bottle.
"I shall miss you. Your parents and real friends will miss you. And your little sister?"
That made Nora stop. "If you are not my brain how do you know all these? And why do you care?"
"You didn't really want to do it, did you? Your brain is failing you. Your social media friends failed you. They are not your friends. Come to think of it, you have only a handful of friends now, don't you?"
"Just tell me please. Who are you? And why?"
"If I am not your brain then you must know that I operate outside of your ill-functioning brain right now. I know you must be looking for help. Otherwise, you would have left already. That is good. Your little sister needs to know this. It was when I mentioned her that made you completely stop. Talk to me for your family's sake, your sister and most of all for your sake."
"Why do you really care?"
"If it were just you, I wouldn't have. You have a family. Your mother is sick."
"How dare you mention my sick mother?"
"Is that why you want to end your life? Do you really believe killing yourself solves everything? You have other worries too, don't you?"
Nora's tears were streaming down her cheeks.
"You used to joke that when you cry it is Niagara Falls, not some serene cascading streams. Those are how real tears should be, because, you said, real crying is the best safety valve".
Nora was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Go ahead, cry." The screen lit up some more.
"I can't stand to watch my mother cry. Or, see Dad's shoulders hunched over by her bedside as he strokes her bald head, now devoid of what used to be a brownish red, naturally curly hair".
"And you inherited her hair, didn't you?"
Nora ignored that. She typed even more furiously.
"I started sharing my story online. That was really never my outlet but this is summer and no counselors to talk to. It was always my mother. When her body started to fail, so did our ability to talk with each other. It was always her who comforted me and counseled me. I felt so inadequate. Useless".
"Let me interrupt you. You are seventeen. You will be a high school senior in the Fall, later this year. You were unanimously voted to be editor of the high school paper. You will sing lead in an upcoming Mary Poppins musical sponsored by your high school drama department. The show is for the scheduled December event before the holidays later this year. You are just into the third week of this summer vacation. What are you doing, wasting it?"
"We will not have a summer vacation. No trips to whatever she used to always make elaborate plans - for this or that place. She doesn't have time to hear how I am doing with voice lessons nor to hear my version of Mary Poppins' Spoonful of Sugar. What else is there?" Tears still flowing down her cheeks.
"Plenty. But first quit social media. When abused, such as how your chat bodies are doing, it can be worse than a deathly illness. What was your favorite song? I know you would listen to it in a variety of versions. There was the vocals, of course, but you'd listen to the cello and piano of it, violin and cello, just plain piano solo and so on and on. You never seemed to tire of it."
"It was my mother who taught me how to sing it. It is 'Songs My Mother Taught Me'. By Antonin Dvorak."
She changed the subject. "It's been a year now since the diagnosis. Then the chemo. How did you expect me to behave?"
"Okay. Now that's better. You're a smart young girl. But your mother's illness came at your most socially awkward time of growing up and adjusting to a role that you thought your mother was going to help. It happened. You will grow up quickly".
"Then what?"
"First stop blaming yourself but most of all it was never your mother's fault to be sick."
"What do you want from me"
"I want to share with you a copy of the medical report. Don't ask me how I got it. Your Dad will get a call from the doctor later this afternoon. Don't tell him or say to anyone that you know about this. He does not need to know. A copy will come on in a bit."
"Is this a joke?"
"No. And sure you can wait when your Dad gets the call. This is signed by the radiologist and concurred with by two other oncologists. Your Mom's cancer will be in remission. The tumor is gone."
"I hope to God this is real. I pray to God now that you are not toying with my emotions. Were my prayers answered? I can't and I don't want to argue with you."
Nora's probing mind started working again. She had to choose believing because if this entity can get into her machine the way it did, know about her family, but giving her hope instead..
"If you were able to hack into my computer, you just might be capable of getting into the hospital's system. Oh God, I want to believe you."
"Not yet. Do you want me to attach the document now?"
"No. I want to read it on my Dad's face when he gathers us after the call, with me in there."
"It's perfectly all right. I am glad I have reached you. I don't succeed this easily. And often, it is too late."
"What do I need to do now?"
"First, reach out to another young lady whose email address I am sending over to you. She just finished her freshman year in college. She is doing volunteer work now for much of the summer. Her name is Claire. She will mentor you in your senior year and perhaps she can help with your major in college, if you decide to keep going. Your parents, like Claire's, had saved enough for yours. You know that."
"Will you still contact me after today? I still would like to thank you. Again."
"Actually, you will thank me when you quit the chat group and you get out of the house and see that there is a much bigger world out there. You don't thank me now. I will know."
The screen went blank. Nora wiped her tears. She can't wait for her Dad to come home. She can't wait for that phone to ring. Suddenly, there are so many things she can't wait for. For the first time, the yesterdays were receding fast, the future is shining brightly forward.
P.S.1 Many of the readers may have already read about Claire. I introduced her first in, "Leap of Faith", then "Leap of Faith into Less Traveled Road" in August of 2023. Then in "The Ubiquity of Goodness.." on Dec. 18, 2024. All are in the archives.
Also, if you are curious if the song, 'Songs My Mother Taught Me' is real, below is a YouTube link. Copy and paste to your search bar and click to open. When prompted to exit an ad, just click on it. There are many versions of it by different singers. The singer here sings it with practically minimal effort, without straining and literally no melodramatic facial or other gestures even when switching to higher notes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8AuPWZNxpY&list=RDq8AuPWZNxpY&start_radio=1&rv=4ZMRk1MdNDM
P.S. 2 Regarding the case of Nora's mom's cancer, there are many documented cases of cancers going in remission that occur for seemingly no reason at all.
P.S. 3 Is it plausible this is a hacking case without resorting to the supernatural? Actually, if Nora did pull the plug, that would have ended the conversation. She backed down from a bluff, but fortunately so. It is simply and plausibly a case of a Good Samaritan suicide intervention. Nora's internet footprint and family life are readily viewed via the chat room and through her own posts. The hospital's record could conceivably have been hacked. Everything else is easy to accept.
P.S. 4 This too can be explained as one inexplicable Divine Intervention.
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