Daily Archives: September 8, 2011

Computer in Need of Protection

Honorable Judge Cyber:

I am petitioning the court in hopes that you will consider my status as an emancipated minor.  When I was adopted last year I had dreams of finding a good home with my own room, proper nutrition and love.  Instead, my new mother neglects me and her behavior borders on abuse.

  • Nutrition: My mom often forgets to plug me in and drains me of all life.  She then gets grumpy and yells at me (sometimes swearing under her breath) when I die mid-sentence. 
  • Health: I’ve had a terrible virus and still she does not take me to the doctor.  Instead, she curses me when I freeze and locks me away for days on end without electricity.  It gets very dark in her bag without light.
  • Space: I have no room of my own.  My mom moves me from room to room and never asks if I would like to remain on the desk where I feel safe and secure.  Often, she balances me precariously on her lap or the arm of a chair.  When I fall off, she blames me. 
  • Family: While I know there are lots of other people living in the house, I’m not allowed to interact with any of them.  On the rare occasions another human plays with me, we both get scolded and I get grounded.  Yep.  Back in the dark bag.
  • Socialization: Additionally, other foster electronics live in our house, but I never get to see them.  I’m relegated to work while they get to play.  Obviously ipod is very  happy here as he sings all day, and Kindle gets cooed at, cried over and listened to.  But me?  No.  I’m the black sheep.
  • Work: I thought kids were supposed to be taken care of.  Instead, I bust my keyboard twelve hours or more each day to pound out word after word.  And when I type something wrong, Mom slams my delete key repeatedly and calls on the Writing Gods to punish me. 
  • Abuse: Besides cussing at me and beating my delete key into submission, she stares at me.  Creepy, I know.  I feel violated.  Especially when she pokes and prods me with other devices for her own pleasure.  On top of the physical discomfort, it’s demeaning to have your memories stored “somewhere safe” and be shown scads of pictures where everyone else gets to have fun. 

Judge Cyber, I beg you to release me from this horrible situation.  If you don’t, I might simply die. 

Sincerely,

Aspire One