The Day I First Touched a Computer

Today was the first time I ever touched a computer. I’m about five years old. My dad bought it from a friend who was selling one. I don’t know why his friend had a computer in the first place—he didn’t seem like someone who needed it for work. Maybe he just liked electronics, got curious, and then lost interest.

When I turned it on, I saw pictures. Lots of them. Ultraman, fighter jets, spaceships... It was incredible! I loved looking at them, especially the jets. They looked so powerful, like they could take me anywhere in the sky. For a moment, I imagined what it would be like to fly one.

But then, as I kept clicking through the folders, I found something that made me stop—images that felt strange, ones I didn’t understand but knew I wasn’t supposed to be looking at. I felt uneasy. Maybe my dad’s friend forgot to delete them before selling the computer. What if my dad saw them? Would I get in trouble, even though I found them by accident? The thought scared me.

Without thinking too much, I decided to delete everything. I just wanted those pictures gone as fast as possible. But as soon as I did, I realized something horrible—I had deleted the pictures of the jets too. The ones I loved, the ones that made me dream of flying. They were all gone. My excitement vanished, replaced by regret. I wished I could undo it, but I didn’t know how.

That day, I felt a mix of emotions—fear, guilt, sadness. But I also learned something important: computers store whatever people put in them, whether good or bad. And once you delete something, it might be gone forever. Maybe one day, I’ll understand computers better. Maybe next time, I won’t make the same mistake.