What’s the Most Shocking Announcement Your School Ever Made?

The School Announcement and the Secret Video

My boyfriend faked his own death and framed me for theft, so I sent him packing. Two years later, he showed up outside my college dorm, watching my every move.

I was in the middle of texting my friends the “road work ahead” Vine during math class when the principal coughed over the school intercom. This was the telltale sign that he was about to make an announcement.

“Attention all students and staff, no one is to leave their classrooms,” the principal said. “Everyone must remain seated until further notice. This is for your safety as much as ours.”

Usually, no one gave an f what the teacher said. But now it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Even Mrs. Peterson stopped writing on the board mid-sentence. We heard ambulances outside, and she told us to sit in our seats.

We were all glancing at each other around the room, wide-eyed and curious. Nobody said anything, but we were all thinking the same thing: one of the teachers had died.

The red and blue lights flashed across the walls. We heard screams from the other grades echoing throughout the building.

Mrs. Peterson told us that it wasn’t a big deal and we should all be focusing on our studies. However, she could barely get the words out from how hard she was hyperventilating.

She didn’t even care as we all started to take our phones out and text our theories into the Snapchat group chat about what was going down. Then we heard it: footsteps running past our door.

They were heavy ones, multiple sets. I couldn’t help myself; I had to look.

I crept to the door and peeked through the window. Two paramedics were sprinting down the hall, pushing a wheeled stretcher, the kind you see on medical shows when someone’s heart stops.

“Get away from the door, Eve,” Mrs. Peterson said, her voice shaking. She was scared too.

I sat down and immediately texted everyone what I had seen. Suddenly, people’s Bitmojis were popping up faster than a Whac-A-Mole game.

Maybe someone finally took out Mr. Jordan, the creepy history teacher. Nah, someone definitely just had an allergic reaction; peanut allergies go crazy.

Another one said that maybe someone had taken too much vent. Mrs. Peterson tried to continue the lesson, something about the Revolutionary War, but nobody was listening.

How could we care about some battle from 200 years ago when someone might be dying down the hall right now? Finally, there was a knock at the door.

It was the principal standing beside a police officer. “Ev O’Brien,” the principal announced.

My heart dropped. That was me. “Can you come with us, please? Bring your things.”

I silently got up and followed, not knowing what the f was going on. In the hallway, I could see the paramedics near the gym.

One was sitting on the floor filling out paperwork. The stretcher was off to the side.

When they brought me into the office, I was faced with my parents sitting on the wooden chairs. My parents are divorced, and I hadn’t seen them sit in the same room since I was seven, so now I was really confused.

Suddenly, my mom stood up and lunged at me for a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over.

I pushed her off of me. “Guys, it’s okay. I mean, the teacher dying is sad for all of us, but…”

I was then interrupted by the sound of my father, the epitome of macho and stoic, bursting into tears. “Honey, it wasn’t a teacher,” is the only sentence he managed to get out.

She told me my boyfriend, Alvin, had died. I pushed her off of me.

“What kind of effing sick joke is this? I just saw him last night,” I said. Anger boiled my blood.

I knew my parents were messy, but I didn’t think they were monsters. Neither of them said anything in response, but their eyes were filled with a deep sense of pity.

My dad was the one to break the silence. “Honey, his dad called him down to have breakfast with his family and when he didn’t come down they went to his bedroom and he wasn’t there. So they walked up to his attic and the door wouldn’t open. Turns out, it was it was stuck on his body. He had committed rope.”

He then burst into tears again. I grabbed my VP from my pocket, not even caring that the principal was standing right there.

I told them they were lying, that I had seen the stretcher and the screams. Turns out they were going to call me into the office on the intercom, but suddenly the janitor fell and broke his hip, so saving him was the first priority.

I looked back at my mom and saw her entire body trembling like I’d never seen before. I stuffed my mouth with the sleeve of my hoodie and screamed as hard as I could.

My knees gave out under me, and the pain felt so grounding that I continued to bang my head against the floor over and over. My parents picked me up and carried me to the backseat of the car, getting ready to drive me home.

And that’s when I got the text. It was Alvin.

My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped my phone. The notification said “Alvin,” clear as day, with his contact photo, a selfie we’d taken at the beach last summer.

I clicked on it, and there was a YouTube link. My mom was in the front seat crying while my dad drove, neither of them speaking.

The only sound was the windshield wipers scraping against the glass. It had started raining.

Neither of them noticed me staring at my screen in complete shock. I clicked the link and waited for it to load, watching the buffering circle spin around and around.

The video started playing and there he was. Alvin was sitting in what looked like some old cabin with wood paneling on the walls.

He looked terrible. His face was all bruised up and his lip was split, dried blood crusted in the corner.

His left eye was swollen almost shut. He started talking, and I had to turn the volume down so my parents wouldn’t hear.

His voice was hoarse, like he’d been crying. He said he was sorry for scaring me, but he had to run away.

He said his dad had been beating him for years, and last night was the worst it had ever been. He lifted his shirt and I gasped.

His ribs were covered in purple and yellow bruises. He showed the camera his arms and they were covered in bruises too.

Some looked fresh and angry red; some looked old and faded to green. There were scars I’d never seen before, hidden under his long sleeves all this time.

He said his dad found his empty room this morning and immediately called 911, saying he killed himself. Alvin said his dad did it to cover up all the abuse in case anyone started asking questions.

He said he’d been planning this escape for months, saving money from his part-time job and finding this cabin through a friend of a friend. The video ended with him saying he was safe now and would text me an address where I could find him.

He looked directly at the camera and said, “I love you, Eve. I’m sorry.” Then the screen went black.

The Cabin in the Woods and the Dangerous Truth

I sat there staring at my phone, not knowing what to think. My boyfriend was alive, but he let everyone think he was dead.

My mom turned around and saw me looking at my phone, her tear-stained face suddenly alert. She reached back and grabbed it from me before I could react.

I tried to tell her about the video, but she wouldn’t listen. She said some kids at school were probably playing a cruel prank on me, that people could be horrible when tragedy struck.

She said I was in denial and needed to accept what happened. My dad agreed with her, glancing at me in the rearview mirror with those same pitying eyes.

They took me home and my mom kept my phone. She said I needed time to process everything without distraction.

I spent the rest of the day in my room pretending to sleep, but really I was planning how to get my phone back. I needed to see that address Alvin mentioned.

I needed to know if this was real or if I was losing my mind. That night I waited until I heard my parents go to bed.

The house was quiet except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Then I snuck downstairs, avoiding the creaky step third from the bottom, and found my phone charging on the kitchen counter.

Sure enough, there was another text from Alvin. It was an address for some cabin about an hour away, somewhere near the state forest.

He said to come alone and not tell anyone. He said he’d explain everything when I got there.

Part of me knew this was crazy, but I had to know the truth. I went back to my room and opened my window, the cool night air hitting my face.