Bullied

Eleven

The link took me to a website that had posted, butcher's boy's attempted rape of an underage girl. There was a picture of Justin alongside a blurred one. The picture of the underage girl was hidden, for 'privacy' reasons it said. A stock photo clearly. It was uploaded yesterday. I called the number back as soon as I understood what just happened.

"It's fake," I all but shouted.

"No shit Sherlock," Justin retorted. "He has crossed a limit this time."

"Where did you get this?"

"On Twitter. Bulldozer sent me the link just now. It's everywhere. I know he did it, I know it for a fact."

"What are you planning on doing?"

"I've had enough of this shit. I'm going to kill him," Last year all the pent up rage erupted and he got rusticated for it. Now after so long, it seems like another explosion is right around the corner. Whatever he does, it may backfire.

"I have a better idea. Why don't you just look for the notebook, it may prove him wrong. You can..."

"It still won't get me rid of him," Justin interrupted. The pain in his voice was clear and I struggled to come up with anything that might calm him down. "He follows me everywhere like shit stuck on the shoe. The only way I can stop him is by getting rid of him, permanently. There's no other way but to send him one last message."

"What do you mean?" I stuttered. Justin didn't answer. He hung up. He had fucked up big time. I called back and this time, the phone was switched off. I searched my phone for Fred's number and called him. He answered on the third ring.

"Whassap?" Fred said clearly unaware of the situation I had put him in, or he himself did.

"Where are you?" I asked as I put the phone on speaker and prepared to get to his place. Dad was in his office and mom was at the neighbors. I didn't want to worry either. I tied up my shoelaces and ran out without thinking.

"Where do you think? I'm at home. Are you okay? You sound..."

"Close your doors and windows. And grab something, anything, maybe a bat or...or..."

"Or my dick? dude I'm on the toilet so that's literally the only thing I can grab. That and soap," Fred's phone was also on speaker since the sound of music coming from his room was audible.

"This is serious. Justin knows everything you did," I yelled on the phone. Strangers walking by frowned at me.

"Okay, is this a prank because this is not fucking funny?" Fred snapped.

"Then what is funny? Making a fake post that he tried to rape a minor, are you fucking serious?" I snapped back.

"Oh that!" His voice was so casual it was disgusting. "But he can't know about that, it's just been a day. Surely it couldn't have spread that fast."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I was panting now.

"It was just a joke. I was going to remove it soon enough. I didn't know it was going to catch on that fast. You know me, I have a twisted sense of humor. Besides, he won't know it's me. I made sure of it. I used all the right software to hide my trial. Relax, fake news is more common than you think."

"You're a fucking psycho," I said, unable to hold in my repulsion. "You've pissed him worse than ever. Why couldn't you just let him be?"

"I thought you were on my side, some friend you are. Anyway I'm done talking to you, goodbye cunt," he spat his words. I didn't pay much attention to the cursing but I did know how to keep him listening.

"He knows about the notebook," I said quickly. That worked. He didn't cut the call but it went silent for a few seconds.

"Who told him?" I could hear Fred's voice break.

"I did. I didn't know it was him. He texted me through some unknown number and claimed to be Amy. I didn't know."

"What the fuck do you mean you didn't know? Even if it was Amy, so what? Why'd you think she'll talk to you about that? She's m..." he stopped himself. "You didn't need to tell her."

"I thought if I did, you'll have someone other than me to talk to," I said. "Birds of a feather flock together," There was silence on the other side until a loud sound interrupted it.

"Fuck! What do I do now?" Fred's breathing fastened.

"Call your uncle, and call the cops. Confess to them and just stay safe," I said. I heard the noise and recognized it. It was the sound of a door slamming against the wall.

"Uncle's not home, he's at his office but I'll call him," Fred didn't reply to the rest.

"Do that. I'm on my way to your place. Stay put. Okay?" I was about to end the call, and to dial the police. I nearly did. Due to the noise outside, I still had the phone on speaker so when he said the next word, I couldn't disconnect him.

"I think he's here," the words made my spine tingle. The music was still there but his breathing noises were louder. Fred's voice was on the edge of crying. "What do I do man, what do I do?"

"Don't worry. I'm getting there as soon as I can," I was nearly hit by a car as I crossed the street.

"He just knocked on the door," I was slowing down, catching my breath when I heard the knocking too. "Oh, fuck, my notebook is on the bed and..."

"Don't waste time talking to me, call the fucking cops," I shouted. Even if Justin had planned on a screaming match, or even a beatdown, the notebook may end up escalating things further.