4 Online Harassment

The morning comes, but my mood hasn’t improved one bit, I still feel utterly humiliated. I can’t believe I was kicked out of the party. I can just imagine what people said after I left. My stomach feels queasy just thinking about all the gossip there will be about me. I grab my phone to distract myself from what happened at the party and I’m surprised by the number of notifications I have. There’s a text from Miranda asking me if I’m ok, there’s another from Laura asking me if what Erick told her is true and then there’s a bunch of messages from unknown numbers saying the most hateful things. My jaw drops as I read the messages.

Hope u die.    Why don’t you kill yourself!     Hope u get raped!!!! Ur not even that hot, brat!     You and your family are scum.

I drop my phone, shaking. Who are these people and why are they writing me this? I guess Martin was being serious when he said he would make me pay for his brother. He has turned a lot of people against me!

I grab the phone again and I log into my social media accounts to find even more hate messages. Some are even from supposed friends! People I went to high school with are telling me to drop dead! It’s all about what happened to Sam. He and his brother must have told a lot of people about that night. People are disgusted with what my dad did and they are taking it out on me. Most messages are insults, but some are threats and I feel scared. The one that worries me the most just says: I know where you live.

I can’t tell my parents. My mom was very clear: if Sam talked my dad would make him pay and I believe it. I can’t risk my dad harming Sam any further. I clearly don’t know him very well or what he’s capable of. I must deal with this by myself.

As I read the messages, more and more come in. My phone won’t stop ringing. Even my email is full of hate. I feel like one of those people who caught on camera saying something racist and the internet goes after them until they’re made accountable for their actions. But I didn’t do anything awful, my only mistake is to have a deranged father and I can’t do anything about that.

I turn off my phone and shove it in the drawer. I wish I could turn off my brain too and stop thinking about what the messages say. Those people don’t even know me and they are writing the most heinous things about me and my family. I start biting my nails as I tell myself I shouldn’t care about what some strangers think of me.

After a couple of hours of unsuccessfully not caring about what strangers think of me, my stomach starts grumbling. I realize how hungry I am. I’m in no mood to talk to anyone so I open my door slightly and have a peek at the hall. There’s no movement on this floor. It’s safe to go out. I walk to the stairs, there’s no noise coming from the first floor. The house is quiet. It’s a relief knowing I’m alone. I go to the kitchen and the smell of cigarette smoke makes me wrinkle my nose. My mom must be secretly smoking again, at least she could open a window. I take a bowl of cereal and pour some milk in it.

“How is a headache?” A voice asks behind me.

I startle and spill some milk on the counter. I turn around, annoyed, and find Handsome Intruder sitting alone at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. My mom’s silly plants blocked the view when I entered so I didn’t notice his presence right away.

“That’s none of your business,” I answer harshly. I suddenly remember his kiss and get goosebumps. Ugh, I hate to feel so attracted to him in spite of his arrogance.

“Sit,” he orders me.

For some strange reason, I obey him. It’s like I have no choice, my legs start walking to the table before I even notice I’m moving. My plan was to take the cereal and go back to my room, but here I am, sitting in front of him waiting for him to speak. I feel a little ashamed to be wearing my pajamas in front of him, but there is not much I can do now.

“So, how’s your boyfriend? He probably cried a lot on his way home that night.” He says mockingly.

“He’s not my boyfriend and that’s not funny. He had to get stitches. It was really bad what happened to him,” I say frowning.

“He’ll be fine, he’s just a crying baby.” 

He’s even more handsome than I remembered. I add his sharp jawline to the things I like about him. He looks so elegant in his dark grey suit. I’m so mortified to be wearing my ‘Belieber’ t-shirt from a concert I went to when I was a teenager.

“No, what happened was terrible and you stopped me from helping him,” I complain while also discreetly trying to cover my t-shirt.

“I guess I was curious to see how far Vittorio would go,” he replies calmly.

“You’re not serious, are you?” I ask in shock. “My dad could have killed him!”

“So? The world is not going to miss another jackass in a lumber shirt who likes to eat organic vegetables,” he says rolling his eyes.

I laugh despite myself. I regain control and put on an earnest face. “That’s not the point,” I state firmly.

He shrugs with indifference. I envy him, he looks so confident, like he’s in total control of the situation.

“You’re right, the point is that you are too pretty to waste your time with such losers. You shouldn’t be dating guys with man buns,” He comments while leaning back on his chair.

He thinks I’m pretty. I’m sure my face just turned red. I order myself to stay calm, I won’t fall for the arrogant intruder, no matter how handsome he is. He works for my dad, I could get in so much trouble. I have to be cold as ice with him, make it clear he has no chance.

“That’s not for you to decide,” I state trying to sound firm.

“Hmm... I think it kind of is,” he says narrowing his eyes.

His remark makes me frown. What is he talking about?

“No, it’s not. Do you really think you have any say in who I date? Have you lost your mind?” I ask baffled.

“Enjoy your cereal,” he winks at me, unconcerned about what I just asked him.

I want to emphasize to him that he has no saying in anything I do and that he should do well to remember he’s just another employee at my family’s business, so he should stop being so cocky. But suddenly the idea of arguing with a stranger wearing my pajamas while eating Cheerios seems absurd. What’s the point? We stay in silence and even though nothing is happening, my heart beats harder and harder with every look he gives me.

The main door opens, I hear footsteps coming in, and then my dad’s voice giving orders to someone.

“I want you to be there when they arrive and if anything goes wrong, it’s on you, Jack. This has to go well.”

“Look at that! They are back,” says Handsome Intruder. “I’ll better go join them.”

I nod trying to hide my surprise. My dad went out and left him here? He never lets intruders stay home when he’s gone. Why did he allow this? He must really trust Handsome Intruder, especially considering I was home. 

I go back to my room and in a senseless impulse, I check my phone only to find a never-ending flow of hate messages, each one worst than the last. I tell myself that these people don’t even know me, that they are just acting based on what Martin and Sam told them about me, but that doesn’t mean their words are any less hurtful. It’s not easy to be on the receiving end of so much hate. I decide to delete all of my social media accounts and email address. When I’m done I turn off the phone and stare at the void of my new social media deprived existence.