[ WP ] The same damage done to a persons iPhone is also done to its owner . Cracks are substituted as scratches , chipped corners for bruises , etc .

Merry Christmas to all! First time poster! I'm sorry about the length. 
 
 
 
 
 Thomas's mother had caught him ripping the wings off the butterflies he had caught the week before. She smacked him in the face and demanded to know what he thought he was doing. 
 
 
 `` I wanted to see if they would turn back into caterpillars mommy,'' Thomas choked through tears. 
 
 
 His mother felt a surge of guilt rush through her. `` I'm sorry honey, but they do n't. You're killing them baby. What's a butterfly without its wings?'' 
 
 
 `` A caterpillar,'' Thomas replied innocently. 
 
 
 His mother shook her head and shooed him up the stairs, lecturing him along the way. 
 
 
 `` They wo n't turn back into caterpillars. How would you feel if someone had ripped off your legs? You would n't be able to walk anymore. That's called torture. You're killing them.'' 
 
 
 Thomas did not reply. He wondered how one could generate the strength necessary to tear off another ’ s limbs. He pulled at his mother's leg. No budge. 
 
 
 Thomas's mother gasped. `` Honey, what are you trying to do?'' 
 
 
 Thomas replied, with a gaping smile, `` Nothing mommy.'' 
 
 
 `` You're a bad boy. Why would you want to tear off mommy's legs? Do n't you know that tomorrow is Christmas? You've been a good boy all year Thomas. Why would you ruin it now? Santa Claus always knows if you've been naughty or nice.'' 
 
 
 Thomas did not reply. Instead, he ran up the rest of the stairs, away from his mother, straight into the bathroom, to brush his teeth and go to bed. 
 
 
 His mother smiled, and made her way to her room to prepare for bed as well. 
 Thomas made sure to lie in bed, perfectly still while his mother checked on him. He waited for her to go downstairs and come back up, and listened for the shut of the door behind her. He decided he should wait a few more minutes just to be safe. While he waited, he pondered whether or not he should check on his specimens before opening the gift his mother bought him. He thought about what she had gotten him. He hoped it was the chemistry set for which he had asked. He had told his mother that the colors intrigued him, though, he really only wanted the tweezers and the magnifying glass. 
 
 
 Thomas ’ s thoughts were broken when he heard a bump in his living room too loud to be something that had fallen off the table. He sat upright in bed and waited for his mother to investigate the noise. Five minutes passed, and Thomas still had not heard her door creak open, so he decided it was safe to move out. He went downstairs and looked for the present he was sure his mother had just left him – what other reason would she have had for going downstairs? There was nothing underneath the tree. Thomas was on the verge of tears. As soon as he was about to give up, he looked at the stocking with incredulity. 
 
 
 The red and white stocking had a soot stain on it. Thomas began to tear. Could his mother really see through his false innocence? Would she really punish him like this? He walked over to the stocking, ready to throw its contents against the wall. He removed what he felt inside. Inside, to his surprise, was the new iPhone 5s in space grey. 
 
 
 Thomas would have jumped for joy, had he not remembered at the last second how light a sleeper his mother was. He thought it was strange that she would get him this. He expressed no interest in phones. He had no friends, and he was only nine years old. Still, he was grateful. He turned it on to set it up, and decided that, while it was installing updates, he would rip off the wings of more butterflies. All in all, his mother and he had caught eight. He had ripped the wings off of two. She would not notice if he were to rip off two more sets of wings. 
 
 
 Thomas skipped off to the family room. He was intrigued by the butterflies. How they did not scream like the rat that Thomas had once caught in the basement. How they died so quickly after he tore their wings, no matter how gently he would rip them. He was nearly there, when, in his mindlessness, tripped over his own feet. He flew downwards, and braced the impact with his hands. His phone, however smashed into the hard tile floor on its back. Immediately, Thomas felt a crushing pain surge through his spine which he did not understand. He had caught himself, how could he be hurt? He then looked to the phone on the ground. 
 
 
 He made the connection almost immediately, but he could not believe it. The butterflies could wait. He had experimenting to do. He gently picked up the phone and walked with it into the family room. He grabbed a nail cutter he would have used on the butterflies and flipped out the filer. He tapped it gently against the phone ’ s screen. Nothing happened. He pushed harder. Nothing still. Finally, he tapped it hard enough so he would be sure it would make a small dent. As soon as he did this, Thomas yelped and grabbed his stomach. His suspicions were partially confirmed. Is this why his father kept his phone so well guarded, in a military grade case, along with a pocket protector? Thomas realized this is why no one his age had a smart phone. They, somehow, were connected to their owners. If one were to inflict damage upon it, he would receive the same damage upon himself. Thomas grinned deviously, and gripping the phone tightly, made his way upstairs to his mother ’ s room. 
 
 
 Slowly he crept, avoiding the steps that he knew would creak if he stepped on them. After what felt like an eternity, he had finally made it upstairs, where he stood outside his mother ’ s door. He held his breath. This would be the moment of truth. Slowly he turned the knob. He heard a click, and froze. Nothing. He could hear his mother ’ s steady breaths – a sign she was fast asleep. He pushed the door open, controlling its movement, so it ensured him just enough space to slip in. He made it. There he was, inside her room. There she was, asleep, not a care in the world, unknowing of Thomas ’ s true nature, and unknowing of his new found knowledge. 
 
 
 He walked over, slowly. There it was. Her iPhone, right on the dresser. No case. She was always the stupid one, he thought. That ’ s why daddy had left them. He would show her, after he turned her into another “ experiment. ” He made his way to the dresser, and picked up her phone. His mother ’ s steady breathing stopped abruptly. 
 
 
 “ Thomas? ” He panicked. He began to cry. He had not calculated the sensitivity of her feelings. He must not have picked up the phone gently enough. It was over. She caught him. She knew he was going to experiment on her. He hated her. He hated her for being so stupid. 
 
 
 “ Thomas, what ’ s wrong honey? ” His mother sat up in bed wondering what her boy was doing, with two phones, in the middle of the night. 
 
 
 Thomas answered only in wails. 
 
 
 “ Did Santa not come, honey? Shh. It ’ s okay. Mommy left your gift right under the tree. It was the Chemistry set you wanted. 
 
 
 “ You…LIAR! ” Thomas choked through tears. “ Take this…you UGLY LIAR! ” Thomas proceeded to violently throw her phone on the floor, picking it up, and smashing it down once again. The phone was beyond destroyed by this point, its screen shattered and its chassis dented into an irregular shape. Thomas stopped after he had done this five times and looked to see its effects on his mother. 
 
 
 She stared at him, teary eyed and confused. 
 
 
 “ Thomas, why would you do such a terrible thing to mommy ’ s phone? Why… why? ” Thomas looked at the phone, and at his mother, and then back to the phone once again, and then dropped to his knees. 

