Everyone In Town Thinks My Friend’s Dad Is A Monster. I Just Found Out The Real Monster Is His Mother, And Now She’s Coming For Me. How Do I Stop Her?

The Evidence

He then pulled out his phone and showed me something that changed everything I ever believed about them. He showed me screenshots of police reports, court documents, and medical records. There were photos of bruises on his dad’s arms, a hospital report from when his mom threw a glass bottle at his head, and multiple restraining order applications his dad had filed but withdrawn.

The dates went back years. Brian scrolled through photo after photo, each one making my stomach turn more. I grabbed his phone and started taking pictures with mine. Brian tried to stop me, but I shook my head.

“People need to see this.”

“No,” Brian snatched his phone back. “You don’t get it. She’ll make it worse. She always does.”

The bell rang and we had to go to class. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Every time I looked at Brian hunched over his desk, I thought about those photos, about his dad sitting in his car with spray paint calling him a predator, about how everyone—including my own mom—believed the lie.

Confronting Mom

After school, Mom was waiting in the pickup line. She barely let me get in before starting.

“I heard you were talking to that Brian kid in the library. What did I tell you?”

“Mom, you don’t understand.”

“No discussion. You’re staying away from him.” She gripped the steering wheel tighter. “His father is dangerous. The whole community knows it.”

“But what if they’re wrong?” I pulled out my phone. “What if I could show you?”

Mom slammed on the brakes at a red light and turned to me.

“Whatever sob story they fed you, I don’t want to hear it. Abusers always claim to be victims. Always.”

At home, I went straight to my room and started researching. I found the court case online. Public records showed Brian’s mom had won full custody initially, but then Brian chose to live with his dad when he turned 12. That’s when she filed the abuse claims. The timing seemed suspicious.

The Investigation Begins

I created a document on my computer organizing everything. The photos from Brian’s phone, the court timeline, the fact that Brian’s dad had never been actually convicted of anything, just accused. I was deep in research when Mom appeared in my doorway.

“What are you doing?”

I minimized the window.

“Homework.”

She walked over and reopened it. Her face went from confused to furious in seconds.

“You took pictures of their fake evidence? Are you insane?”

“It’s not fake. Look at the dates. Look at the…”

“Delete it now.”

When I hesitated, she grabbed my phone.

“I’m keeping this until you learn to make better choices. And you’re grounded. No computer except for homework, and I’ll be checking.”

The next few days were torture. At school, I tried to slip Brian notes, but teachers kept separating us. Kids started whispering when I walked by.

“That’s the kid who hangs out with the abuser’s son,” I heard someone say.