Bullied

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by Vera Hollins


  Enjoy?

  What the hell, Sarah? After everything he had done, you would fall that low to let him manipulate you that easily?

  I reached my bed, and the hot tears had surged out, my breathing accelerating...

  Take a deep breath, Sarah.

  The tingling started in the back of my head.

  Breathe slowly, Sarah. Calm down.

  I couldn’t! I was so stupid! I—

  My phone beeped with a text message, and I flinched, taken by surprise.

  I took my phone out of my backpack and entered the password. The hair stood up on the back of my neck when I unlocked it. Instead of seeing the caller ID, I saw two words. Hidden Number.

  My thumb turned sweaty as it hovered above the message icon, waiting for me to gather the courage to open the message. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tapped on the icon.

  The first thing I spotted through the crack on my screen was the photo of my slashed tire in my driveway, but it was different from the one circulating on Twitter because it was altered in Photoshop. This picture showed dark blood trickling down the tire and spreading on the pavement.

  The scream lodged in my throat when I read the text beneath the picture, everything in me turning into ice.

  “ This is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you. Get ready because I’ll slash your face soon.”

  Chapter 21

  “I FOLLOW YOU WHEREVER you go.”

  I deleted another message from the hidden number, just like I’d done with the previous two. The message I received last night was a dire picture of a dog that had been run over and lying in his own blood, with a text that said, “I’ll run you over too.”

  I could barely sleep the last two nights. These threats scared the living hell out of me, and for the first time, I couldn’t find the strength to go outside and work, panic holding me captive in my house. I called in sick and spent the whole day locked in my room, crying until all that was left was overpowering dejection. I didn’t see the point in getting out of my room and continuing to live my life.

  The only distractions Sunday provided were Melissa’s and Jessica’s messages. Jessica kept apologizing for leaving me alone with Hayden and Blake despite her earlier promise not to be a coward anymore. I did feel a bit hurt because of that, but I understood she couldn’t just stay with me, right?

  What would I do if I was in her place? Would I stay or leave?

  You would stay, Sarah, because deep down you would do anything for the people you love.

  Yeah, but it had been so long since I cared for someone that I’d forgotten how it felt to be there for others.

  Soon after Jessica’s first message, I received a text from Melissa. She mentioned that Mateo didn’t come to the retirement home this morning, which wasn’t surprising after how I treated him on Saturday. If his confession was real, I kind of blew my chances with him when I reacted the way I did, not that I was ready for dating when I had to deal with these disturbing messages.

  I just knew it was Hayden who had sent them, and it was appalling. He wanted me to be terrified. He wanted me to be paranoid and too scared to get out of my shell. This was the first time he’d sent such an explicit warning, but the worst thing was that I was afraid he would really fulfill his threats.

  Was it because I disobeyed him and stayed friends with Jessica, or was it because of Kayden’s death?

  I didn’t have a clue what had gotten into him this time, but I knew Monday awfulness had just reached a whole new level. I didn’t want to go to school, dragging myself around the house all small and hopeless. I got the guts to get outside eventually, but I was already too late for my first class.

  I arrived at school and decided not to go to first period. Hayden was there, which was all the more reason for me to steer clear of the English classroom and head to the secluded part of the school that was deserted at most times. This way, I didn’t risk getting seen by teachers.

  I hated skipping classes. I felt guilty, like my chance of going to a good college would slip away. After I clung to my escape for so long, working hard and dreaming high, I couldn’t let it go to waste. I’d started working on my college applications this summer, hoping that by some miracle Yale, which had great art programs, would accept me, and made it a mission to have good grades no matter what.

  I was in the middle of hallway when I heard two familiar voices arguing, their angry words drifting from the outside through an open window nearby. I tip-toed and stopped next to the window, peeking around it.

  Hayden, Masen, and Blake were smoking right in front of me, obviously skipping classes. I whipped my head back, my heart pounding violently in my chest. Unlike Hayden and Blake, Masen was facing the window, and I hoped he hadn’t noticed me.

  “Will you two stop it already?” Masen said in irritation. “First, you didn’t want to talk to each other, and now, you can’t stop arguing.”

  Blake snorted. “The princess here feels offended, as usual. I don’t want to suck up to anyone, especially not to you, Hayden.”

  “Fuck you. I had enough of your crap.”

  “My crap?! What about your crap?!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about that bullshit episode you had with Sarah Decker on Saturday.”

  “What?” Masen asked.

  “That’s right,” Blake replied to him. “You should’ve seen them, Mace. He hugged her like she was his girlfriend or something. They looked like they were going to fuck each other right there, on the street!”

  “Shut the fuck up, dipshit!” Hayden hissed, which was followed by the sounds of bodies colliding into each other.

  “Hey! Hey! Stop it, you two! You aren’t going to fight. I said, stop it !” Masen shouted. The sounds of their fight ceased, replaced by their heavy breathing.

  “Is it true?” Masen asked. “You hugged her?”

  “I didn’t hug her. I just kept her restrained because she wanted to bail.”

  “Since when do you need to hug her to restrain her?” Blake remarked sarcastically. “And why didn’t you just let her go?”

  “That wasn’t a hug, asshole; I just wanted to mess with her.”

  “Yeah, right. Let me tell you something, princess,” Blake started. “I got used to your hot-cold episodes, and the shit you do can’t scare the crap out of me anymore, but switching from one side to the other when it comes to that bitch? It’s fucking crazy. I can’t believe that.”

  Masen groaned. “Seriously, man. That chick is the reason Kayden and you got into that car accident. She’s so irritating and whiny. We always hated her guts, but these last few days you’re different. Actually, you’re different ever since we got back from our summer camp, and if you keep on acting like this, I’ll start thinking you missed her during summer or some shit like that.”

  “Oh come on. I’m playing with her.”

  “You’re supposed to hurt her, not play with her,” Blake spat.

  “What’s your problem, Blake? Sad because you couldn’t hurt your toy on Saturday? You’re strangely fixated on Jessica Metts.”

  “So now you’re turning this back on me? And what if I am? What does that have to do with you?”

  “I don’t follow you two anymore,” Masen chimed in.

  “Blake almost peed his pants with excitement when he saw Jessica Metts on Saturday. She drove Sarah back home, and Blake was more than glad to see her. Now, I’m sad I separated the kids.” Hayden’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

  “I have the fucking right to do whatever I want to her. Besides, you’re one to talk! You’re fixated on that bitch since the day you met her, and after all this time, you’re still playing that stupid cat-and-mouse game. I really wonder if you hate her for real, or that is just a bluff.”

  My heart thumped so loud that I feared they were going to hear it. I was incapable of moving from this spot. I should go. I should go right away, but my legs didn’t listen.

  “You have no idea,” Hay
den growled.

  “You bet I don’t have. When it comes to her, I don’t know you, man.”

  “He hates me!” I wanted to scream to Blake. “He tried to kill me, and he’s sending me those awful messages now!”

  I looked around me, scared that someone would appear and expose me. I’d been eavesdropping long enough.

  I stepped back from the window, intending to walk away silently, when Hayden said, “I don’t know myself, man.” He sounded defeated and lost. “I don’t fucking know anything anymore.”

  I PULLED MY WAVY BROWN hair into a ponytail, inspecting myself in the mirror. I was wearing all black, dressed in baggy workout pants and an equally baggy shirt with a Mickey Mouse logo. I was impatient to get outside and find some relief in running.

  The current bundle of nerves had been piling up in my chest since I arrived home in my car thirty minutes ago. My mom was sober enough at last to realize it had been gone for days—I didn’t know if I should laugh from the absurdity of it or cry because I was being neglected—and she didn’t want to let it slide. It would be a lie if I said she treated me better when she wasn’t tanked.

  She stopped behind me and crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at me through the mirror. “How much money have you already spent repairing that old wreck?”

  Why did she care about the money? It wasn’t like she was paying for my repairs.

  “I’m handling it, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

  “How should I not worry when you’re repairing it all the time?! Do you want us to be flat broke?! If you can’t keep it in one piece, then you shouldn’t drive.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.” I could only hope. “I’m going out. See you!”

  I didn’t wait for her answer or permission to leave. I darted out without even looking at her, needing to get this brewing unease out of my system.

  Hayden’s car was parked in his driveway, but he was nowhere in sight, which was a relief. I picked up my pace, checking the time on my phone. It was close to six. The sky was bright and clear blue at the moment, but it would be dark soon, which meant I had to return home real quick. Maybe I was becoming paranoid, but since I’d started receiving those dire texts, I didn’t feel comfortable being outside during the evening anymore.

  I gripped the phone in my hand, jogging along my usual route, my mind returning to the conversation I heard today. I couldn’t help but feel that Hayden was setting a new trap for me, because how could he say he didn’t know if he hated me when everything he did sent a message of hate? These text warnings were another clear sign of his feelings.

  I mustn’t be delusional again. Besides, even if he didn’t hate me, which was impossible, that didn’t change the fact that he’d done many horrible things to me. He still did. I couldn’t just turn over a new leaf when it came to him. I couldn’t be so foolish.

  My leg muscles were aching, but it was exactly what I needed as I pushed myself to go faster. I had to force the thoughts of Hayden away. I was always thinking about him, and it started to feel like an obsession, which showed how much power he had over me.

  I wondered if I would be ever capable of forgetting him. It was said that love and hate were similar, and I had to agree because I couldn’t stop thinking about him, despite trying my hardest.

  My phone beeped in my hand, and I stopped abruptly when I saw “Hidden Number” on my screen. I got the creeps, all the tension that dissipated as I ran coming back to me.

  I didn’t dare to open the message. How wise would it be to ignore and delete it?

  I should go to the police immediately. I might not know for sure if Hayden was behind these texts or not, but this was serious. I didn’t want to admit this to myself, but as far as I knew, this could be a real thing and not a cruel prank. I shouldn’t treat it as something insignificant.

  A hand of cold fear gripped me hard. I had erased previous messages.

  Oh no. What was I thinking? What could I say if I went to the police? I deleted the first message on Saturday night, so I couldn’t prove it existed.

  Giving in to my curiosity, I opened the text.

  “Aren’t you too old to wear a Mickey Mouse shirt?”

  Chills broke out all over my skin as I gaped at the message. In terror, I snapped my head up and twisted around, looking everywhere for this person.

  It was only 6:30, but this residential street was almost empty save for a few passers by, who were either walking alone or with their partners, and no one held a cell phone or paid any attention to me.

  I was horrified that I wasn’t able to see the stalker when they could obviously see me. My heart thumped fast, the coldness paralyzing me. I could barely think straight.

  I dashed as fast as I could, scared witless of what Hayden planned to do now, or was Hayden really behind all of this? Either way, I had to get home safely.

  My phone beeped again. I didn’t stop running as I opened the message.

  “You can’t run fast enough.”

  I threw my gaze over my shoulder, but there was no one. They were playing with me. They were somewhere, stalking me, enjoying my reaction... The horror was enveloping me more and more. I really couldn’t run fast enough...

  Another message arrived. “That’s right. Come closer to me.”

  What? No!

  And another. “Getting closer.”

  No! Where are they?!

  This was bad. They would catch me... They would hurt me.

  I reached the street corner, but before I could swivel around to go back, I slammed into something. I wasn’t able to catch myself, falling down, but then someone grabbed me by the upper arms and kept me on my feet.

  I brought my eyes up and screamed. It was Hayden!

  “Stay back,” I shrieked, shoving him, and pushed backward with my arms raised in front of me.

  It was him! I was right! He was sending me these messages! Oh my God. He was sick, despicable, obsessed with me, horrible—

  “What the fuck is your problem?” he growled, frowning. “Why don’t you look where you’re going?”

  I backed away a few more steps, whimpering when he moved toward me. I noticed my phone on the ground at the same time as he did. My stomach churned with panic when he bent and picked it up.

  He looked at the screen, and his frown deepened. “Getting closer,” he read the last message aloud and met my gaze. “What is this? Who sent you this text?”

  I couldn’t even speak. I had no idea what he was going to do now. He was unstable, clearly planning something... “Hidden number?” He moved his thumb over the screen, anger filling his eyes. “Will you tell me what the fuck this is?” He raised his voice, and I whimpered again, wrapping my arms tightly around my waist.

  “You sent those messages, Hayden, so stop pretending like you have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Messages? Which messages?” He returned his gaze to my phone, and his eyebrows furrowed even more. “That’s right. Come closer to me,” he read the message before the last one. “You can’t run fast enough.” His face was a mask of pure rage now. “Aren’t you too old to wear a Mickey Mouse shirt?” He raised his head and fixed his stare on my chest, studying the imprint on my shirt. His eyes widened, like he realized only now what I was wearing.

  His body tensed, and he looked around us, scanning the area. It was frightening that he was acting innocent, just like when I accused him of slashing my tires.

  “When did these texts start? Today?”

  “Stop acting! I know you sent them! You’re just playing with my mind now—”

  “ I didn’t send this shit ,” he shouted, and everything in me turned cold.

  “You did! You sent the first message two days ago, warning me that you’ll slash my face soon!”

  “I’ll slash your face soon?”

  “Yes! And you sent me that horrible picture of my slashed tire covered with blood!”

  He searched for something on my phone. “Where is that message?”r />
  For a second there, I expected him to comment on Melissa’s and Jessica’s texts in my phone, feeling more than glad I’d erased Mateo’s messages. I didn’t even want to think about his reaction if he’d seen the messages from “Maria’s Hair Salon” that had nothing to do with hairdressing.

  Fortunately, it seemed that he didn’t care about my social life at the moment. “I don’t see any more messages from this sender.”

  “I deleted them.”

  He didn’t answer. He just stared at me, or rather through me, deep in his thoughts. A couple of moments later, his eyes narrowed, focusing on me. “I have no idea why you think it was me who sent you those messages. I thought you already knew that when I warn people, I don’t hide behind anonymity.” He grasped my forearm and pulled me to him.

  “Let me go,” I screamed. I couldn’t bear not knowing what would come from him next.

  The middle-aged man and woman, who were passing by, looked at us. I pleaded them with my eyes to help me. Knowing Hayden, he was capable of abusing me even in front of them.

  Hayden sneered at them. “Move along. There is nothing to see here.”

  “I think you are hurting her,” the man said.

  “I said, move along .” The way Hayden looked at this man made him shrink in fear, and he scurried away with the woman, cursing Hayden and “these aggressive young generations nowadays.”

  I watched them rush away in disbelief. Hayden and I were alone again, which drew my attention to the dreadful fact that the sky had already become dark and the street lamps were lit. Hayden stood too close to me, and I could feel the warmth his body radiated. I could also feel him tremble in a barely controlled anger. Would he snap and hurt me?

  “I have no idea what is going on with these messages, but if you’re smart, you’ll go home right now.” My jaw dropped when I heard what he said.

  He was speaking like he cared, like my safety concerned him, but I didn’t trust him. It must be him who had sent those texts. It must be him.

  “Unless you’re stupid enough to wander the streets at night.”

  “If you didn’t send me those messages, then what are you doing here?”

  “That’s none of your business.” He released me and gave me my phone back. I didn’t waste time to put some distance between us. “You can believe me or not, I don’t give a fuck. Now, go home and stay there.”

 

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