Telep@thy

Ana sticks the needle in her arm and falls backwards, feeling the pain of the wound and the soft sheets of her bed. It doesn't hit her immediately. Several minutes pass as the nanites travel through her bloodstream and latch onto her brain. To Ana, those minutes last an eternity. Each time she injects, the wait feels longer than the time before. She craves for the connection to be initiated, to be alive with the world again.
The nanites will attach to the neurons in her brain and enable a wireless data connection. The interpreter software she installed months earlier render the webpages as something that can be interacted with by thought alone.
When her connection goes live this time, the banging on her bedroom door starts. A hundred webpages appear in her mind, her session from last time restored--Twitter feeds, Facebook statuses, and a thousand Instagram photos flood into view. She consumes them hungrily as the banging on the door grows louder.
"This is telepathy," she whispers as the thoughts of thousands fill her mind. Those that also injected update their statuses with their thoughts, and Ana knows them as they know her own.
Injecting is illegal, but that's rarely enforced. Ana thinks the illegality of it pointless. It is a precautionary measure since the long-term effects are unknown. There have been a few cases of the injected wandering outside under the influence and causing accidents. Ana knows better. She locks herself in her room where she lies in bed, enjoying her connection to the world.
Penny's voice now accompanies the banging. She yells something, but it's too difficult for Ana to make sense of it. The interpretation of data consumes too much of Ana's mind. She can stop and listen, but she needs to take advantage of her time. The injection lasts only a few hours. After that, the nanites will deteriorate.
Someday, it will last forever, Ana thinks between page loads. Then she will inject for the last time. She imagines a world of telepaths.
Beneath Penny's voice, a baby cries. The sound reminds Ana that she needed to upload photos of Sam. His third birthday party was last weekend, and Ana has pictures of it on her phone. She connects to the phone and uploads the pictures to her accounts. A tsunami of likes and compliments rush over her. Her body convulses, and her head swims. She's never had so many people connected to her at once. She smiles and tears of joy leak from her eyes.
"You're supposed to watch Sam tonight. I have to go to work," Penny says. Ana hears this, but finds little meaning it. "I can't be late again."
Ana tags Penny in the photos. Someone comments that they are such a cute couple. What a beautiful baby they have. Three people like that comment.
Outside the bedroom, Penny stops banging. Ana hears Penny's footsteps moving away from the door.
"I'm taking Sam with me," Penny says. Ana will try to remember Penny's words for later, after the nanites die. For now, she wants to stay connected to her friends, to the world. She updates her status to say she is so lucky to have such wonderful friends and family.