Fidget Spinner Addiction


This story is by Spooky Boo

I made a mistake. A BIG mistake! Over a month ago I was surfing through the online classifieds and I came across this free box of stuff that was posted to Craigslist. I sell a lot of things that I get for free from Craigslist on eBay and Amazon. I know it seems like a scam, but it isn't. If people are willing to just give things away, then why not sell them?

The box had a lot of junk that I gave away on FreeCycle, I do that so I can build my customer list. I know, that sounds scammy as well, but these people will take junk off my hands in minutes or buy incredible items when offered. So I keep their emails. Is that a crime? I don't SPAM them. I send a message asking if they would like to be notified. OK? Don't judge me.

While giving away the items and clearing out the box, I came across this thing called a fidget spinner. At first I wasn't sure what it was, but then when I realized that it could spin between my middle finger and thumb at an even pace, I was fascinated. My first thought was to sell it, but every time I went to list the spinner I couldn't do it. I would pick it up and spin it for a few minutes and then do it again. Soon, I was only spinning it over and over again. Everything in the box was gone and I was still spinning that damn thing.

After I started playing with it, I realized that almost everyone had one. Where had I been hiding? They were everywhere with people spinning them. I was no exception. I spun it night and day. It was prettier than all the others. There weren't any lights on it, but it would light up as it spun. It also made this weird humming noise. I went in and tried others in the store, but none were like this at all. I compared it to the fidget spinners my friends used and none of them could come even close. They wanted to try and I would just laugh at them. I always said no.

It wasn't until after the first month I had it that I realized I had a problem. It was like an addiction. It was like that feeling one gets when holding a cigarette between your fingers and taking a very long puff. I couldn't stop. I had been spinning for five days while at work, at home. I wasn't sleeping. I didn't realize this until I looked in the mirror and saw the bags under my eyes. Even when I went into work people asked if I wasn't feeling well. When my boss called me into his office he told me to go home and get some rest after scolding me for not getting any work done.

When I got home, I just kept on spinning...and spinning. It was talking to me, I know it was. If I listened closely, I could hear it humming my name and whispering unintelligible phrases. I could even hear it laughing at me. It became hard to sleep at night at all while I sat on the couch and just watched the erroneous lights on the ends flash in different colors as it turned and turned and turned.

I'd find myself falling asleep and when the buzzing and whispering stopped, I would bolt up again and start spinning. It never ended. After 3 weeks, work fired me. I had no excuse. No doctors note. I stayed home sick for weeks and they called me and told me I was no longer helping the department and had to leave. They asked if everything was ok and if I needed any kind of help while finding a new job, I just hung up the phone then found 2 weeks of severance in my bank account the next day.

Two weeks later I found myself still spinning.  I was weak from not eating and most likely severely dehydrated, but I couldn't stop. The voices in the fidget spinner calmed me as it went round and round. Yesterday they turned off the lights and cable. I have no money to pay the bill. I chew on ice cubes so I don't have to get up and get water. I think I've lost about 40 pounds just spinning and not eating.

"This has to stop now!" I managed through the tears. I stared at my reflection of my defunct television. Just a hollow shell, void of life, stared back at me. The only light was the spinner. I had shut all of the blinds so I could watch the lights in awe. Now that I've noticed my reflection, I'm terrified.

I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed my electric knife. Stupidly I plugged it into the wall forgetting I couldn't turn it on. The fidget spinner just spun, mocking me as I threw the knife on the ground. Through the tears I searched my knife drawer and found a steak knife. I started to cut at the skin on my wrist but the spinner mocked me. It laughed and hummed in a whimsical tune that a steak knife wasn't sharp enough. Then I grabbed the bread knife and started to saw, half screaming until I passed out.

When I came to, I was weak. There was blood everywhere, but there was some relief. When I had passed out the fidget spinner had stopped and so had the bleeding. It wasn't enough. With my right hand I tapped the end and it started spinning again, whispering and laughing. I dug deeper into the knife drawer and finally found it! With one large swoop and putting all of the strength I had left into my right arm, I sliced right down into my left wrist with the meat cleaver. I cried out as my hand tumbled across the floor, still grasping on to the fidget spinner. It continued to spin and laugh me as the room grew dark.

That is why I'm here, at the State Hospital for people with mental diseases. I sit here watching my stump in horror as I can still feel the presence of my hand and that damn fidget spinner.

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