Cassie Milton, a high school junior from LA, has just scored a dream scholarship for a weekly literature program at New York University. It should be the perfect opportunity-except for one huge complication. To make it work, she has to move to New Y...
Remember how I said that I didn't really care if I was going to get messages from them anymore? Well, I may have lied. And I definitely jinxed myself. I thought if I blocked them and didn't engage, they would get a fucking hint and leave me alone. Clearly, I was dead wrong. I guess that's what you get when you're dealing with a rapist and a bunch of bullies.
I got another message late that night. I was still on an endorphin high from homecoming, and I was drifting off to sleep. It was the first night in ages I didn't feel complete dread. I was dozing off, unaware of my surroundings and thinking nothing but peaceful thoughts when my phone buzzed.
I had forgotten to set it to night mode so the message wouldn't have notified me. I snapped up, waking from my half slumber. The noise was so loud in my dead quiet room that it shocked my body into thinking I was about to get shot. I was going to just turn around and face the other way instead of looking at my phone. The blue light would have disrupted my brain and caused me to wake up which I certainly didn't want.
The problem though was that the messages kept coming. At first, I wasn't sure whether it was my half asleep brain, pretending there was more noise or whether there actually were that many messages. I didn't think it would be them. I blocked them and I knew that. It could have been Gus or my parents telling me something bad had happened and suddenly I was preparing for the worst.
I sat up in bed and reach over and grabbed my phone. Instead of bad messages telling me someone was either dead or dying, the messages were from an unknown number. All the separate texts were one sentence, like they were spelling out what they were saying using separate messages.
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I felt sick to my stomach reading the messages. I don't know how I knew but I did. I just knew that it was from them. They keep getting new fucking numbers and I can't keep up. Another message came through and this time it wasn't a text. It was a video. I know I shouldn't have opened it. I know it was a dumb idea and looking back at it now, I was a real fucking idiot.
I clicked on the video, and I was thrown back to two years ago. I was in Kyle Lance's bedroom, and he was raping me. The room looked exactly as I remembered it which isn't surprising considering that the last time I was in there was the exact day the video was taken. Kyle was my boyfriend. I loved him and when we were about to have sex, I changed my mind and said I wasn't ready. He didn't like that very much and fucked me anyway. Before I knew it, I was a high school slut. The video, from start to finish, is him suggesting sex and I agree. Then halfway through getting undressed, I tell him to stop and that I've changed my mind.
"Cass, you agreed," Kyle says, getting angry.
"Yeah, and I changed my mind," I tell him, getting up. He pins me back down and I frown at him, surprised by his actions. "Kyle let me go," I say, adamant. "Fuck no. You said you would fuck me and you're gonna do just that." That's where I stop watching. I know everything that comes after. It's just me kicking and screaming the whole time but no one comes to save me.
