Our first concern as parents is for our kids’ safety and wellbeing. We automatically take every precaution to keep them safe from harm from the minute they are born. It is just inconceivable to consider our children getting sick or injured. Without even thinking twice, we go above and beyond to keep them safe.
But the truth is that things can go awry sometimes even with our greatest intentions. Every parent knows that accidents can occur and that it is frightening to consider a scenario that is beyond of their control. Jackie Fedro knows all too well about this. Her daughter’s terrifying tragedy happened in 2016, but it serves as a potent lesson for all parents to be watchful and observant at all times.
A BuzzFeed article claims that Jackie made the decision for her 13-year-old daughter Gabbie to receive her own smartphone in 2016. It was an LG d500 that was a Christmas present. Jackie clarified that Gabbie’s hectic practice schedule necessitated having a phone, which was one of the reasons she was given one. They had no idea that the course of their lives would become quite frightening.
One day, Gabbie’s mother heard her cry as she was using her phone in her room. Jackie realized her kid was in terrible pain as she hurried to her side in a panic. Gabbie was screaming hysterically and clutching her neck. For Jackie, it was a heartbreaking sight as a mother. She was helpless and unsure of how to make her daughter’s suffering better. Gabbie needed a few minutes to formulate an explanation for what had transpired.
Gabbie admitted to her mother that she had been on her phone during the charging process. She was shocked by an electric shock. When the current touched her metal necklace, it burned her neck after passing through her phone and up the charging cord. Due to the extreme heat, Gabbie had to endure excruciating second-degree burns, leaving a scar across her neck.
Shocked by this unexpected event, Jackie was driven to tell her daughter’s tale and educate other parents about the unspoken risks associated with cell phones. It’s not something that’s often known or even discussed. Jackie stressed, “Parents need to be warned about the harm that phones can cause, especially with so many kids using them these days.”
Isn’t it horrible to consider that something as basic as using a phone might result in such a horrific experience? Stories like these serve as a helpful reminder to parents of the value of continuing education and vigilance. Let’s make sure we take every precaution to keep our kids safe.
If you enjoyed reading this article and would like to read more engrossing tales, have a look at the ones below:
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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