The first hour was unbearable.

Lila stared at her phone, the blank screen like a taunt. Her thumb twitched with phantom muscle memory, instinctively reaching for apps that weren’t there. Last night, in a fit of clarity—or was it despair?—she’d deleted them all: Instagram, Twitter, TikTok. Even the benign ones, like Pinterest, didn’t make the cut.

“Just a week,” she’d told herself. “Seven days to prove I’m still a real person.”

Now, on Day 1, she wasn’t so sure.

Her brain itched, like a part of her was missing. Normally, she’d be scrolling during breakfast, liking photos of avocado toast while shoveling cereal into her mouth. But the silence of her tiny apartment felt oppressive. The clink of her spoon against the bowl sounded deafening.

By noon, the anxiety peaked. What if she was missing something important? A breaking news story? A friend’s engagement announcement? A trending meme? She picked up her phone, thumb hovering over the App Store icon.

“No,” she said aloud, throwing the phone onto the couch.

She needed a distraction.

The bookshelf in the corner caught her eye. It was dusty, more decoration than utility. Lila pulled out a paperback she’d bought years ago but never opened. “I’ll read when I have time,” she’d told herself back then. Now, she had all the time in the world.

The first chapter felt like trudging through mud. Her eyes skimmed the words, but her mind wandered back to her phone. What were people saying? Was she being forgotten?

By the second chapter, something shifted. The story pulled her in—an underdog hero, a mysterious quest, a secret that could change everything. When she finally glanced at the clock, it was past dinner.

The days that followed were strange, like stepping into an old pair of shoes that still fit but felt unfamiliar. She rediscovered the park down the street, noticing for the first time how the sunlight filtered through the trees. She dug up her sketchpad and began drawing again, her lines shaky at first but growing steadier with each page.

By Day 5, her mind felt quieter. No more endless comparisons to influencers’ perfect lives, no more doomscrolling through bad news. She realized she wasn’t missing as much as she thought.

On Day 7, she allowed herself to redownload Instagram, just to check in. But as the app loaded, she hesitated. Did she really want to go back?

Instead, she swiped to uninstall.

For the first time in years, Lila felt free.