Qfeast can be mean

SCREEEEEEEEE

I had returned from a fun day at school. My team, The Thieve Catchers, had just won first place in a mystery solving competition. (I am not making that part up 5th grade is lame.) Relaxation at my home would be the spotlight of my day.

Yet all good things have to end.

I clicked on my notifications, seeing what others had thought of my posts. "A few followers, come comme-," I stopped to look at the warning from Qfeast. One of my polls had been taken down because it violated Qfeast's crap.

I started to cry inside my head because I'm not a baby. I had thought setting my page to profile was bad, but they had taken down my content. I needed to relieve stress, so I watched my cat Mia clean herself for a minute.

My eyes flared up in anger. I thought of ways to get back at Qfeast. "Sue them or send them an angry email," I contemplated until I thought about what I did last time. I made a two thousand character story.

Alas, I was only at one thousand, well, just about. My story would be drab without the whole world seeing it. I needed it to be public, not profile.  I didn't want the page fiasco again.

"The next time anything gets taken down or set to profile, I'm sending an angry email," I said. Why would I read the Terms and Conditions? Humorous Qfeast had thought I actually had the time and dedication to do something and time consuming as that.

"We recommend you regularly save changes to your story." A blue bar showed up. At least Qfeast didn't want this to be lost. These stories were about the only things that give me followers.

I needed about four hundred more.... so I had to keep going. My news feed flashed; it couldn't stop me. My conversations filled up; it couldn't stop me. I was dedicated to showing Qfeast I MAKE THE RULES ON HERE.

My mind told me to procrastinate. I really wanted to check if bleshou had posted another story. But I kept typing and typing, feeling disappointed this is what my life come to be.

This story is so stupid, I will stop wr