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?

Escalation

Friday morning I found Brian at school. He looked terrible. Unwashed clothes, hollow eyes, hands shaking slightly.

“You okay?” I whispered as I passed.

He shook his head minutely.

“She called Dad yesterday. Said she’d drop the restraining order if we came back. Dad said no. She got angry.”

“What did she do?”

“Nothing yet. That’s what scares me.”

During lunch, I used a teacher’s computer while she was at a meeting. I told her I needed to print homework. Instead, I logged into the email account where I’d been saving evidence. There was a new message. No sender name, just “You were warned.”

Attached was a photo of me at the library computer, taken from behind. Catherine had been watching me that day. My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. Mom had taken my phone but I’d hidden my old one in my locker.

“Your friend looks tired. Sleeping in cars is so dangerous. Anything could happen.”

I screenshot the threat and added it to my evidence file. Catherine was getting bolder.

The Intervention

That afternoon Principal Morrison called me to his office. Mom was there, along with Mrs. Patterson and two other parent volunteers.

“We’re concerned about your behavior,” Morrison began. “Multiple parents have reported seeing you researching private information about a family in our community.”

“I’m trying to help them,” I said.

“By spreading lies?” Mrs. Patterson leaned forward. “That poor woman has suffered enough without you dragging her name through the mud.”

“Have any of you actually looked at the evidence?” I asked. “Or are you just believing what you want to believe?”

Mom’s face flushed.

“Apologize. Now.”

“For what? Asking questions?”

The meeting devolved from there. They talked about suspension, about limiting my computer access at school, about the therapy being increased to twice weekly. I sat silent, letting them plan my punishment, while Brian and his dad slept in their car.

That night I heard Mom on the phone with Catherine.

“I’m so sorry for what my son has been doing. Yes, we’re handling it. No, he won’t bother you anymore. Of course, if there’s anything else…”

She was apologizing to the abuser, promising to silence me. I wanted to scream.