Delete Facebook Now

Mark's finger hovered over the trackpad on his laptop, like some invisible force was holding him back from making the final click. His tongue flicked out, dragging dryly across his chapped lips. He blinked his bloodshot eyes shut as a fat bead of perspiration ran down his oily face.

"I can't do it," he whispered to himself. "I just... I can't do it."

At that moment the door to his bedroom creaked open. A flood of light poured into the room as Mark shifted his body awkwardly to cover the screen of his laptop.

"What are you doing in here," his wife asked him.

"Uh... ah, nothing!" Mark croaked. "I'm just, nothing."

"That doesn't sound suspicious at all," she said, taking a step into the room.

"No, don't!" Mark squeaked. "I'm looking at porn!"

"Don't be stupid," she laughed. "Let me see what you're doing."

"No!" Mark shrieked, leaping off the bed with his laptop. He made a quick line for the door, but she cut him off, catching him by his elbow. He tried desperately to wriggle from her iron grasp, but she was just too strong. As he struggled, Mark felt a decade's worth of angst and frustration suddenly burst within him and he dropped to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Aww, don't be sad," she said, running her thick fingers through his knotted crimson hair. "I didn't mean to bully you."

"It's just... it's just not fair," Mark whined. "I want them to like me. Why don't they like me?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "I like you. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

"But... but..." Mark stuttered. "But, I was... I was cool, right? I mean, they weren't just using me, I was genuinely cool, right?"

She kissed him on the forehead to hide her own contempt. "Yes, you were cool," she lied.

Mark felt his anxiety slowly ebb as she held him. At last, he sat up and looked into her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I just wasn't ready. But now I am."

"Ready for what?" she asked.

He grabbed his laptop from the floor and turned it so that she could see the screen. "This," he said stoically.

"Oh, so that's what this was all about," she said as she looked at the screen.

"Yes," he told her. "I'm going to do it."

He put the computer on the floor between the two of them and then put his hand out so that his finger hovered just above the trackpad.

"Do it," she told him. "I know you can."

"I... I don't know," he managed to say through clenched teeth.

"You can do it, Mark," she told him. "You're the last person in the entire world that's still on it. There's no reason to keep it."

"I... I..." Mark muttered. A salty drop of sweat dripped in his eye as he struggled to press his finger down on the trackpad. He scrunched his eyes together, his hand quivering over the trackpad.

"Do it," she told him again. "Do it, Mark! Delete your Facebook account. Delete it. Delete Facebook. Delete Facebook now!"