Valentina Basan - Save Our Souls

Instamama

– Mom, I don't want to, I won't. I hate you; I don't want to do it.

– You are brute. You are beast. I said we're shooting another take. You did everything wrong. Everything. The sheep (followers in social media) won't believe that you like to eat it and play with it. You are bitch, you will eat it with pleasure. Come on, I'm filming, smile, scum, otherwise I'll tear your fucking mouth.

– Mom, Mom. I don't want to eat it, please don't touch me. I want to sleep. Let me go, please.

Seven-year-old Sonechka curled up on a new rug, sent recently by the company "Grushka-toy" for advertising. Her legs ached from the dermantine shoes her mother made her walk in. These shoes were too small for her, the company made a mistake with the size, since low-quality Chinese shoes were a few centimeters less from the declared standard. The feet were pierced with wild pain, as the soft baby bones were still forming and growing, and the bright pink shackles in rhinestones and sequins did not allow the fingers to straighten. Others have not been sent for advertising yet, and Kristina “Happymom”, her nickname on Instagram, was principled. Everything that can be obtained for free, she will receive for free, "fo free", as they said at the training on personal growth and development.

Naturally, the training was in Russian, during her nine classes, Kristina never learned English, but some words, such as "money", "open mind", "Come on" and "cash", she diligently wrote down in a handwriting in her, Kristina’s notebook.

To shoot her daughter on camera twenty-four hours a day, Kristina was taught by a coach for the same personal growth, Vita Freedom, and in the past, escort Vitalina Zapenko.

– Bunny, you can earn money right at home. Think about what you have that many women don't have? That's right, baby. You have a boy.

– A girl. I have a daughter and a husband, – Kristina corrected her timidly.

– Fuck your husband. All husbands are losers and beggars, if they don't earn a million and don't drive a Porsche, and a boy or a girl, what difference does it make if you can earn millions on it.

The hall of the small recreation center, where the training took place, buzzed approvingly. Wives and mothers in Chinese low quality jackets sweated and wanted a different life, without sausages from cheap store and promotional cottage cheese, which had the same relation to dairy products as success coach Vita Freedom – to education.

Sonechka's life from the age of five turned into endless smiles at the camera, praise of toys, reviews of things and goods.

Kristina filmed her every step, not allowing her to do something without the consent of her mother – director. The rating of reality shows on Instagram and on Youtube began to grow. The perfect mother of the perfect princess and dad is hanging out somewhere for show.

Sonechka's legs were very sore. She could not stand on them, because the curvature of the feet led to deformation.

– Brute, get up, I said get up!

Christina slapped her child on the back. She could not hit her face, the camera will quickly show bruises.

– Mommy, I don't want to eat this. My stomach hurts, – the girl turned pale and leaned against the wall of the toy house.

– Bastard, get up from the wires, you're breaking the scenery, get up, creature, I've been setting up the light in this part of the room all morning.

– Mom, my eyes hurt, I don't want to be photographed. Tummy. My tummy hurts.

Sonya was holding her stomach with a small hand. There was a sharp stench of excrement in the air. A huge red puddle spread out under the girl's ass.

– Bitch. What a bitch you are, – Kristina hit her daughter in the chest and she fell on the house like a rag doll.

– Mommy, my tummy!

Sonya tore the remains of the advertised product right into her lap.

Next day.

– Hello, this is Kristina. What did you send me? I ask, do you, your motherfuckers, want to poison my child? I don't care about the storage conditions, I'll sue you. I took everything on camera. There is a conclusion of doctors. No, worse. I'll write on Instagram, what a shitty you are! And your products are shit. How much? Shove your five hundred dollars up your ass. How much? Okay, I'll think about it.

A few days later.

– Hello everyone, guys! I am Sonechka, happydaughter and my mom, Kristina, happymom recommend you the best and most nutritious product in the world! Order now, the link is in the head of our profile!

Hype.

Sasha Rygotina went to Instagram and opened her profile. A million. The long-awaited million. Who are all these people? Fans? Haters? Watching? Two million pairs of eyes look at her every day. They watch her like a lab rat, what she eats, how she sleeps, where she walks, who she's friends with. When the rating of statistics starts to fall and views are reduced, she gives them food content, in fact, she is watching them, their reaction, they are rats behind glass, and from time to time she throws them a piece of meat in the form of a hype.

She liked this fashionable English word, she didn't even bother and translated it in a Google translator: hype. It's about her. A simple girl from the village, without manners, education and culture. She came to the district town, got a job as a waitress at the Golden Chest pub. After sleeping with a fat and bald client, Sasha bought herself the very first iPhone, the first sign of a successful girl. And by downloading the Instagram app, she discovered a new, beautiful, glamorous, rich world of chicks who ate lobsters on yachts, drank Veuve Clicquot champagne against the backdrop of European attractions and ordered coffee at Starbucks near Trump Tower.

– I want that too! Sasha whispered resolutely and registered under the nickname #sasharygotina#.

She put up a photo from the park. Against the background of yellow autumn leaves, which carefully warmed the slightly chilled ground with a blanket, stood an ordinary girl in blue jeans and a red faux fur coat. A dermontine shoulder bag with the logo of a famous brand screamed about poverty and bad taste. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail. Sasha received only one comment from her mom: "Daughter, you are beautiful!"

The girl resolutely clicked on the link to delete the account.

Nowadays.

“Alex Bystritskaya, you are super!”

“Subscribed to you, you are my ideal!”

“Awesome figure, baby!”

“Sleep with me, you dirty whore!”

“I hate you!”

“Love you!”

“You fucking scum, die!”

Sasha Rygotina did not like to read comments, but a hundred thousand laudatory reviews were colored with negativity. The most important thing is that even bad comments and hate (hate – v 1 to hate), gave her statistics, views, rating and advertising order. She deleted her first account five years ago and immediately created a new one, where she signed with a different name and put up a photo in panties and a bra.

The first steps were difficult; the videos were not funny and not beautiful. But people liked them. Here she shows how she shaves her legs, and here she shows how she scares an old lady and she (an old lady) falls to the ground from surprise. Next video where she puts on a transparent T-shirt and douses herself with milk, letting the cat lick her nipples.

For several years, Alex Bystritskaya amused her hamster subscribers (hamster – another name of fans and followers) as much as she could. They liked to absorb her irrepressible fantasy, wait for the next hype and trolling, comment, touch the famous hype instagram influencer.

She posted photos and videos where she gets a tattoo on her pubis, gets beauty injections without anesthesia, and last year she restored her virginity live and arranged an auction for her sale. Virginity was bought by a blogger from neighboring countries and they arranged the purchase and sale process almost online, hiding only the genitals, fearing to go into ban because of the guardians of morality and the policy of safe content.

For several years, Sasha moved from the district center to the regional center, and today she is moving to Moscow. She dreamed of a big city, the center of the world, that she would be rich and famous walking around Red Square and signing autographs. The amount of hamster (followers), as she called them, was growing, there was more and more advertising, but it was still not enough. She wanted to count not tens, but hundreds of thousands, not to rent a studio on the Arbat, but to buy it. She wanted not a Honda, but a BMW, although ideally she wanted a Bentley. Like those others, her idols with lobsters and Clicquot.

The content has become tougher, brighter, and more fun. Views were growing, but not as fast as she would wish, and she want a lot of money right now.

Last week, she asked subscribers which part of her body to pierce, the first place went to the nipple, the second to the clitoris, the earlobe was in last place. Vodka no longer helped, Sasha had been on cocaine for a long time and tightly, which gave her the strength to work and gush with ideas.

The nipple still hurt and seemed to be inflamed, and the breast, like her whole body, made for advertising of new plastic surgery center, bothered and ached even more. The plastic surgeon turned out to be a novice trainee and something went wrong during the operation. The stitches were leaking and bleeding, so Alex took pictures of her in a tight bra, hamsters loved it.

Yesterday she collected several million views by drinking a cocktail of her own urine and having a lemon snack.

Today she has her period according to the plan. Pads and tampons she has already shown, because followers need something sharp. For example, lick the finger or smear blood on the face.

And tomorrow she will come up with something with a cat, for example, like last time. She will secretly hurt a little animal and with tears in her eyes she will fly by taxi to the vet clinic that ordered her advertising. Of couse, she will do it on camera live broadcasting. Here it turned out badly with the dog, under cocaine she did not calculate the blow and fatally injured the dog, which she so heroically saved on camera from a fake dog hater.

In the vet clinic, death was pronounced; Sasha was so bitterly grieved in stories that money began to come to the card from compassionate people. The blogger arranged a lavish funeral for the unfortunate corpse, ordered cremation and buried it in a specially designated place in the pet cemetery. She wore black for another week and started good morning in her underpants and in tears.

The hype with the dog began to be forgotten and the elite kennel gave her a new victim for advertising, a four-month-old puppy that no one wanted to buy because of a small defect on the paw. The dog spent the whole day howling in the pantry until the neighbors did not complain about Sasha to the landlady. Rygotina took the dog back to the kennel, threatening to make them anti-advertising forever with their little amount of followers on Instagram. Where are they? And where is she with her million? And the million is growing. That's the main thing. The most important thing in the life of Sasha Rygotina, ugh, Alex Bystritskaya.

She looked in the mirror, her face was gray, bloated from free fillers, filters and makeup helped her out in Instragram, she had to go back to the cosmetologist, rejuvenate, there last week she was invited to one. Sasha wiped the white dust under her nose and clicked on the coveted Insta icon. The monthly video has gained more than three million views, more than the video with a cocktail of urine.