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The machine was old, a hand-me-down from her brother, but itserved her well. When she'd first gotten it she didn't know what to do,finding herself staring at the monitor vacantly with a sense of desperateneed, an itch, but no way to satisfy it.Eventually she explored. Solitaire became her lifeline, a way to mentallycalm her after a particularly long and excruciating day at school.Notepad became her diary, and a place to write poetry and stories. Withexperience came bravery and she discovered the internet, and her worldslowly changed.Music was suddenly there for her in a way it had never been before. Atfirst she would spend her time tracking down songs she remembered fromher youth, then artists she had always wanted to hear, then as her tastesdeveloped, into more dangerous territory. Music her parents had forbiddenher from listening to.Likewise for movies and television. When she picked up on the means ofpirating media she suddenly had access to everything she could everdesire, and. Doug's eyes teared up at what he saw."You like that look Doug? Your hair in curlers? Not very manly is it." No ma'am," Good, now come over here," she said leading him over to the breakfastnook and pushing him face first into the corner. "Stand here and thinkabout it while I do your brothers hair." Mom, I didn't do anything," I pleaded hearing what she said."Bend over to the sink young man," she said turning the water on andwarming it up.I pleaded with her while she waited on the water to warm up."Stay still," she said picking up the shampoo.Mom washed my hair and conditioned it. When I stood up she towel dried itand wrapped the towel around my head. I looked over and saw Doug stillstanding in the corner his head full of curlers knowing mom was about todo the same to me."Mom? Why do I have to do this?" I asked whining now."Hush Jimmy. You know why," she said combing out my hair.I gave one last desperate plea when I saw her pick up a curler andgetting ready to start my hairset.
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