I remember the day we fell for our nation’s greatest weakness.

I was a thirteen-year-old girl who just wanted to stay at home and read books all day, but no, I had to go walk around New York City.  This day couldn't get any worse.
It was a cold, windy fall day, leaves crunching under my feet. The cobblestoned roads of New York City littered with debris from the lack of us caring. I was walking with my mother, father, aunt, and uncle to see the Statue of Liberty, we had been waiting months to get tickets. My father grabbed everyone an audio tour while walking around. He tossed one to me, I caught it, and threw it right back, who wants this stupid thing?! It looked like an old style cell phone. I just wanted to walk around without listening to the robot voice of the audio tour.  Little did I know, that was the best and worst decision of my life. My family held the audio tours to their ears like it was their life.
 
About forty-five minutes later, we arrived at the Statue of Liberty, we had to walk around the island and go through security. In the line for security I had read an article about a company spreading rumors that technology is bad for you, and mysterious disappearances were occurring. I brushed it off, it was probably just some stupid scam.

My family was still glued to their audio tours, trying to listen to it over the loud noise of the other tourists and their voices. We approached the pedestal under the statue, we started to climb, I was automatically assigned the job of steering my family this way and that so they didn’t run into anyone, or anything. As we ascended to the top of the pedestal, I saw other people, glued to their audio tours, staring straight ahead as if they were zombies. We finally reached the top, overlooking Manhattan. My family joined the fleet of tourists gripping audio tours with white knuckles, heading to the edge of the pedestal. I figured the tourists, my family included, were going to stop. Surely they just wanted to see the New York City skyline. They didn’t. Everyone kept walking, I screamed for them to stop, but no one listened. I ran in the tight space between the zombie-like people to reach my mom, I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back. She shrugged me off like I was a weak, little child. I ceased my running, realizing that no matter what I did, I could not make a difference. One by one, the tourists with the audio tours glued to their ears jumped off the ledge, sending them plummeting to the hard, concrete ground. They continued to fall, as if pouring out of a pitcher. My family was reaching the edge, my mother forced her controlled body to face me, her face pained under the stone-cold face. She jumped. They all jumped. I couldn't stand there and watch, I couldn't bare to see all the ones I love die right in front of my eyes, I couldn't do anything to stop them. The only thing I could do was follow them. Was there really any point in living with nothing in my heart to keep me alive? I ran, the tears streaming down my face. I paused one last second before the ledge, do I really want to do this? Yes. I jumped. I flew through the clouds, flashbacks of my life, the times with my family, the times I was happy. I am happy now, though, I am joining my family. The people I love. The ground came at me just as fast as the memories had flashed through my brain. I heard a crack, and realized it was me, I had hit the ground. I was dead.  All the police would see would be bodies, scattered around the base of the Statue of Liberty, twisted into grotesque forms. Never to see the light of day again.