Definitely Not Phonaphobic This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Sprinting up the stairs, two at a time, the phonaholic hurries to her alcove, with the portable phone, her favorite toy, affixed to her ear. The cave is where she spends an impressive amount of her time when not at school. It has a queen- size waterbed on which she sleeps comfortably at night; and on which she lounges when participating in her favorite activity: talking on the phone. I tiptoe up the stairs after her, being as quiet as I can. As I slink closer, I begin to hear music from the stereo that sits on a cabinet shelf next to her headquarters of ringing phones. And see the light from her room slide on its belly under the crack of the door. Every night, before she sleeps, the phonaholic plays the stereo quietly to relax her. In her room, she has a lava lamp on her desk, and a candle on her stereo that throws off an enticing smell.

I have just discovered another detail about the species on my latest encounter, in the kitchen last week on September 26. I was draped on the couch in the family room, working on scientific report when the phone rings.

"Brrrrrng"

"Hello?" Answers my mom, a retired member of the species, who probably, passed it on to her daughter. The call was made for my chosen specimen. "Michelle, it's for you!" she yells.

"Hello? Oh, hi!" she responds excitedly, almost jumping up and down. Then she takes the portable and dashes up the stairs. I have found that when a phonaholic is on the phone, she vanishes outside (if it's day) or flees upstairs. I have not yet dug out what they talk about when alone, but I hypothesize that they talk about things that happened that day, or what they've been doing lately.

Some people don't mind phonaholics, but most do. If you want to watch out for them, here is a description of an average specimen. A teenager, fifteen years old, she is five feet seven inches tall, with straightened teeth (had braces), lots of freckles, and brown eyes. She has long auburn hair with blond streaks in it from the broiling summer sun. She is thin and wears stylish clothing.

I have found, though, that phonaholics are missing a small section of the brain that prevents otherwise normal people from the need to talk on the telephone constantly. This anatomical omission makes the phonaholics who they are today. I am afraid of this missing body part - very, very afraid. This kind may get violent if isolated from the phone long enough. I should know ... it's happened to me.

One Saturday morning, at about 11:00 a.m., I needed to use the phone to call a friend about homework. Surprisingly, the phone was not being used. So, thinking that Michelle wouldn't need the phone for a little while, I punched in the numbers. I had just started talking when Michelle came stomping into the room, so mad that I thought she was going to erupt like a volcano. Everything after that was a blur, except for the burning and redness of my hand and the faint sound of her voice.

Did Alexander Graham Bell really know what kind of horrific species he was creating?

There is one more thing about the phonaholics that separates them from the rest of us. As they mutate into a phonaholic, their human cells transform to grow long and thin, with ball-like figures at the ends. The nucleus splits in two, and they swim into the edges, while a curly tail grows on the bottom.

If I find any more information about this species, I will kindly report back to you. Until then, keep safe.


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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