My Stepdad Put A Camera In My Room And My Mom Called Me A Liar. I Ran To The “Creepy” Neighbor For Help, But No One Expected What Was Waiting For Us. Who Was The Real Monster All Along?

The Setup

That afternoon, I was called to the principal’s office. The same two officers were there, along with the principal, the counselor, and Mom.

“Honey,” Mom said, her voice syrupy sweet. “These officers need to ask you some questions about Mrs. Grant.”

The female officer leaned forward.

“We’ve received some concerning information about Mrs. Grant’s relationship with Mr. Thomas, and we understand she’s been trying to contact you.”

I knew this was a trap, but I didn’t know how to avoid it.

“She’s just worried about me.”

“Worried or involved in something inappropriate?” the male officer asked. “Your stepfather found some disturbing photos on Thomas’ computer. Photos of children, including you.”

“That’s not true!” I protested. “Jeff is lying! He’s making all of this up!”

“Because?”

“Because what?” Jeff interrupted, his voice gentle but his eyes hard. “Because I care about your safety? Because I’m trying to protect you from predators?”

“You’re the predator!” I screamed, jumping to my feet. “You’re the one who hurts me! You’re the one who…”

Mom grabbed me, pulling me back down. “See? This is what Thomas has done to her. Filled her head with these terrible ideas. Now Mrs. Grant is involved too, helping him manipulate our daughter.”

The officers exchanged glances. I could see they believed every word.

“We’ll need to question Mrs. Grant,” the female officer said. “And we’ll need you to stay away from her,” she added to me. “For your own safety.”

I felt the walls closing in. Jeff had systematically eliminated everyone who could help me. Thomas was neutralized by the restraining order. His daughters were back with their abusive mother. Mrs. Grant would soon be under investigation. Nathaniel was fighting the system, but the system was rigged in Jeff’s favor.

That night, Jeff came to my room with a smile.

“You see how this works?” he said, sitting on my bed. “I own this town. I own the police. I own your school. And I own you.”

He reached for me, and I scrambled away, but there was nowhere to go.

“Thomas can’t save you. That old lady can’t save you. No one can save you. So you might as well stop fighting.”

I kicked at him, screaming, hoping Mom would hear and finally, finally do something. But she never came. Jeff left eventually, leaving me sobbing on the floor. I crawled to my window, desperate for air, for escape, for anything. That’s when I saw it. A small piece of paper tucked into the window frame from outside.

I managed to work it free with my fingernail. It was from Thomas. His handwriting cramped and urgent: Tomorrow 3 p.m. Be ready. T.

I didn’t know what he was planning, but it was my only hope. I tucked the note under my mattress and tried to sleep, counting down the hours until 3 p.m.