My Life As An Internet Novels & Stories

They warned me! But it was too late for any of that. He has come to realize that the internet never forgets. The world is going to laugh at him when the truth eventually, is revealed, that his super-cute girlfriend was just another guy behind stolen pictures. Maybe he could run. Maybe he could just run away this very moment and never return. But no matter how much he runs, the internet never chases. It remains there. Seven’s head hung forward, his shoulders slump. “Why?”

“And it’s not just going to be tomorrow morning – this is going to live with you for the rest of your life. This is going on the internet, and it’s never going away. When somebody G****es your name five years from now, ten years from now, fifty years from now, they’re going to see you in those photographs. Hell, they won’t even have to G****e you – it’ll probably be the second or third thing that pops up if they G****e me. Your children are going to hear about this from the time they first set foot in school. Other kids – even adults – are going to rub those pictures in your children’s noses. Even if you discover the fucking cure for cancer, or win the Nobel prize for world peace, this is go

I ordered. She scampered off quickly leaving me to myself. I ruffled my hair in exasperation. This has been my routine in the last few years. My life and everything that I have worked for spiraled down the drain like it wasn’t decades of sheer hard work. Just one mistake and people couldn’t forget. They lied about the internet forgetting. My entire life seems to revolve around that tiny mobile.

Then, out of nowhere, I burst into a wide, uncontrollable cackle. It was ironic. Hilarious in the most twisted way. When you really think about it, my life was nothing short of a mess. No money. Not even a little. I couldn’t spend anything. I couldn’t post. I couldn’t call for help. I couldn’t even apologize properly. Every account of mine had been taken down. We lived in a technologically advanced world. Yet, here I was, holding a smartphone in my hand, and I couldn’t use it. Not really. I had been erased from the internet like I never existed.

Eric didn't know what Henry was doing, but all day he hugged his computer and asked him for money, Eric asked Henry to say that he ordered things online. It wasn't until the goods arrived that Eric was angry and funny because Henry had lost his adult toys, somehow Henry could even find this site. Since being brought to the social network, the beauty of two children Alan and Asher has been noticed by others. Alan loves to want Eric to take pictures of the boy and Alan just likes to build boats and tech gadgets. “So, does Asher want to act in a movie?” "What's the point of filming?" “Filming is like being on TV, Alan will be shown on TV.”

But it ended in screams, silence, and abandonment. My name’s now a stain across the internet. A smear campaign flourishing so fast you’d think I was a politician and not just… a girl who wanted to be loved. To the world, I’m now a shameless homewrecker and loose wife and whatnot and every vile thing a woman can be under the sun. That’s the line the internet likes. And I’ve lost so much blood this month alone, I could fill a goddamn tank. Five miscarriages in two years plus? Five. I'm pretty sure I’ve broken some kind of tragic world record. I’m living history—but not the kind anyone claps for.

"How's the world treating you besides existing as a trending topic?" For a beat, he didn't answer. The comedy camouflaged something....a careful relief. You could see him weigh whether to expose a bit more of the truth. "Complicated," he said eventually. "The internet is loud. People are mean. My sister is... not okay." His jaw tightened. "And there are people who think we're entertainment." "If the internet is loud," I said, "then maybe we can be two quiet voices. Call it rebellion." I kept my tone light because that's what felt safest.

Whatever happens when we trade our summer nights for both the bright lights of the stadiums and the public interest in our relationship is something we’re going to have to figure out. All of this might feel better if I had an idea of what my next steps are. Sharing my life on the internet—as well as my outfits and favorite products—kind of fell into my lap. I just hired a manager who helps me secure brand deals, but I still don’t know how long this will last. My life is nowhere near figured out, and I hate that part of me wonders if that will get in the way of the relationship me and Preston have built. Sadness washes over me as I look down at my phone and type a response back to Margo.

Snorting to myself, I mumbled, "How much worse could it get?" Maybe people would appreciate the raw version of me more than the put-together one. Maybe it was crazy of me to even think that in the first place. I tapped the record button and balanced my phone on my belly. Fuck it, who cared at this point. I was so tired of living in fear of strangers on the internet. The least I could do was make a statement for myself and stand up to everyone who was calling me horrible things that weren't true. I opened my mouth and began to speak.

Hannah’s POV: The Internet is a crazy, fickle place. One day you can be the most hated person, and the next moment, you have a legion of fans rallying behind you as if they’ve known you all their lives. This morning, I woke up feeling like a ghost—my project barely had any votes. But now, less than twenty-four hours later, I was staring at my screen while the number of votes skyrocketed.