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 School Crackdown

Then Mom found out about the after-school computer use. Mrs. Patterson’s daughter had seen me and reported back. Mom showed up at school furious.

“I’ve had enough,” she told Principal Morrison. “I’m concerned about the influence this family has on my son. He’s lying, sneaking around, obsessing over them.”

Principal Morrison nodded gravely.

“We’ve noticed changes in his behavior too. I want assurance that my son will have no contact with Brian at school.”

“We’ll do our best to monitor the situation.”

They moved my classes so I wouldn’t see Brian. They assigned me a different lunch period. A guidance counselor started pulling me out of class for check-ins where she’d ask how I was feeling and if I wanted to talk about my recent choices.

But they couldn’t stop me from thinking. From planning. From knowing that somewhere in town Brian and his dad were suffering because everyone chose comfortable lies over uncomfortable truth.

A Chance Encounter

One day, I saw Brian’s dad at the grocery store. He was buying the cheapest bread and a jar of peanut butter. His clothes hung loose like he’d lost weight. When he saw me, he quickly looked away and headed for checkout. I followed him outside.

“Mr. Davidson.”

He stopped but didn’t turn around.

“You shouldn’t talk to me. It’ll make things worse for you.”

“I know the truth. Brian showed me.”

His shoulders sagged.

“The truth doesn’t matter when no one wants to hear it.”

“I want to help.”

He finally turned. His eyes were red-rimmed, exhausted.

“You’re a good kid, but stay away from us. For your own sake.”

He drove off in his car, “predator” still faintly visible under a layer of cheap paint.

Brainwashed

That night, Mom came to my room with her laptop.

“I want to show you something.”

She pulled up the parent Facebook group. Post after post about Brian’s dad.

“Saw him lurking near the playground.”

“He followed my daughter in the store.”

“Why isn’t he in jail yet?”

“These are lies,” I said. “He’s just existing and they’re making it sound criminal. 300 parents can’t all be wrong.”

Mom closed the laptop.

“I’m trying to protect you. This man is manipulating you through his son. You’re the one being manipulated by gossip and fear.”

“Enough!” Mom stood up. “I’ve made appointments with a therapist, someone who specializes in children who’ve been influenced by dangerous individuals.”

My blood ran cold.

“You think I’m brainwashed?”

“I think you’re confused and I’m going to fix this.”

She left me alone with my rage. They were building walls around me, trying to force me to abandon Brian and his dad. But walls had never stopped me before.

Late that night, I heard Mom on the phone.

“Yes, I’m very concerned. He’s obsessed with proving their innocence, taking pictures of supposed evidence. I think they’ve really gotten into his head.”

I recognized the careful tone. She was building her own case, making me sound unstable, obsessed, manipulated—the same playbook Catherine had used against Brian’s dad.