Wii Deleted You Novels & Stories

I sent it to my phone first then I pressed the tiny trash can icon. Delete forever? the screen asked. "Yes," I said out loud, tapping the button. The video vanished. I deleted every single picture he ever took of me. I wiped his photo gallery completely clean. "Did you get rid of it?" Maya asked. "Every piece of it," I said. "But I am not done yet." I opened his social media app. His profile popped up. His stupid post about our fake date was right at the top. It had five hundred likes already.

The last step was deleting my account. "Once your account is deleted, all data will be permanently erased, including your custom companion 'Stefan Thorne'. This action cannot be undone." I stared at those words and felt something squeeze tight around my chest until I could barely breathe. But I tapped through it anyway. Then I held down the app icon and hit "uninstall". The little starry logo warped, shrank, and vanished from my screen. My home screen had never looked so clean, or so empty. The days that followed felt like one long hangover.

The next morning, the video of Reed carrying Mia out of the deli broke the Internet into awe. Women are going gaga over Reed. But as fast as it was released, someone removed it. No matter how many times the video was uploaded, it was deleted. Someone hacked into the host systems and even deleted the video from the host who uploaded the video. This process went on for a while until they removed all the traces of the video.

"And she'll have a father who can tell her the truth." I hit the key. The terminal didn't beep. It let out a long, low hum that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the facility. Across the world, in the high-rise glass towers of London, New York, and Tokyo, billions of dollars began to dissolve. The Wolfe legacy was being deleted, one line of code at a time. But as the screen flickered to a 'Process Complete' message, a final video file opened. It wasn't Eleanor. It wasn't Melanie.

"I'm not deleting anything. This is harassment. I'll sue." The corner of his mouth twitched. Amusement deepened. The music throbbed between us, but the world shrank to the inches separating our bodies. I could smell him clean, masculine, expensive. Susan tugged at my arm, whispering my name, but I barely heard her. "Delete it," he repeated, stepping closer. I snatched the phone from the bouncer's hand, deleted the video, and shoved the screen toward his face. "Happy?" I raised an eyebrow in challenge.

He had also been here, knocking and knocking on the door but she wouldn't open the door for him. She read their conversation over again on Kikachat and scrolled through the gossip/gist feed, thinking she’ll just bump into some of her nude pictures since Charles had said he would release it soon. While she was at it, the application suddenly began to glitch and malfunction and then, it finally crashed. Kikachat was no more. *** “I did it! I did it finally!!” Alex announced, screaming. “You did it?” “Yeah, not only did I wipe the pictures, I took down the application”

As the darkness of the river closed over her, a new notification pinged in her mind—one she couldn't ignore. [Sync Status: 101% EVOLUTION FAILURE] [USER DELETION COMMENCING...]

I scroll up, past the excuses, past the cold replies, past the silence. Until I reach the older ones. Knoxx: Can’t stop thinking about you. Knoxx: Come to my office. I miss your face. Knoxx: You’re everything to me. Those are harder to delete. But I press down on the screen, finger trembling slightly, and select "Delete Thread." A prompt appears: Are you sure you want to delete this conversation? I stare at the words. Yes. I’m sure. I tap "Yes." The thread vanishes.

I visited the app store, gave it a one-star review, and proceeded to delete it. Error, It sent. You cannot delete snuggle until your package has expired. "Fucking Christ," I muttered. I hadn't realized I had given the sketchy app administrator privileges. I was going to do my little research on how to rid myself of the app when the strange number from earlier popped up. In a fit of blind rage, I hit the accept button and immediately yelled into the phone. "Who is this? I am really busy so this better be worth my time." "Am I speaking to Miss May Wolfe?" The feminine voice questioned.

“What did I do?” I tapped the bubble hard, long-pressing, searching desperately for the option. Delete for everyone. My finger shook as I selected it. A small notification popped up: Messages deleted. But I knew how these things worked. Screenshots. Cached copies. The internet never truly forgets. And if it was the dummy account she controlled… she would see it anyway.