It's six am and i have to get ready for school. Head hurts from the crying last night. Wake up with a whole bunch of messages from everyone saying the same line." It's going to be ok" or " are you ok ? " This is the worst feeling in the world to see the person that you love be with another person. I knew that we weren't in a good space but to step out and be so bold enough to cheat on me is another thing. Now I have two options: Be disrespectful and not care about his feelings or forget and move on. Me knowing that i'm nonchalant i'm just going to forget and move on. Right now i'm at a point where I want to crawl in my bed and die but i won't do that. Got in the shower feeling some kind of relief from the pain and agony from last night. Got dressed and put on sweats and a hoodie with my hair tied up. Don't have the energy to get pretty. Walked in the kitchen and see my mother but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't want to say the same things because she knows I heard it all before. Before leaving out the door she calls out to me but hesitates and says never mind. Finally get to the school and all eyes on me. I can feel the eyes of my fellow classmates staring at me from and far and whispers began to start. As I head to my locker I see him laughing and pointing at me. Tears began to run down my face as I went to class. During the day everything was mellow and smooth while my mind is racing. Everything was good until the last hour of my day.
He knew he would see me. As I came into class all of his friends started to mistreat me. They called me all types of names and told me how much of a slut I was. I guess that's what happens when your'e pressured into sending nudes and showing them to all your friends. He looked at me as if he wanted to tell me something but i ran out of school and never looked back. A while back my mom bought this cabin just a few miles off the road. I went there and hid away from the world. Days goes past and a photo of me is showed on the news as me missing. I would just go home and tell everyone i'm not missing but i got an idea. I stay here and hid here in the cabin for six months and see everyone's reaction. A few weeks go pass and now the whole town is involved. Him and his mob of bullies were looking for me. I feel some regret because I haven't told my mom and i know she's worried. As for everyone else they can continue to look for me because i feel no sympathy for them. They bothered and mistreated me the whole time I was there. Now that i'm missing they care so much about me. No one ever cared and really asked about my feelings. My heart is saying he did cared about me a little bit. But my mind is telling me that he didn't care about me at all. He only wanted me because I was popular and everyone adored me. As the few months we were together I did fall for him. But that was a mistake. Right now as i'm looking at the news all I could do is cry. i feel so betrayed and hurt by the community that loved me so dear. My feelings are all over the place but still must continue my plan. Days turns into weeks. Weeks became months. People began to stop looking for me and began to give up hope on me.
I then started to sneak out the cabin to restock on food but didn't have any money or clothes. I then started to sneak home as my mom was at work to steal money and clothes. As of that following day I went to the grocery store to get canned goods and hurried out the store. I didn't want anyone to recognized me so i wore a black hat and wore baggy clothes to disguise myself. One day when i was in the cabin I watched the news. They then pronounced me dead after searching for me for five months. I then feel some kind of relief. I didn't feel wanted by the people in the town that was supposed to love and appreciated in the first place. I grew up in that town and their was some good memories there. Some people did continued to look for me including him.One day there was a couple that found my cabin. I was sound asleep as i hear the police knocking down the door. I guess the couple seen me and called the police. When the police got there they asked me a lot of questions about my disappearance. I told them that i left from school and just been wondering the woods here for months. I didn't wanna get in trouble for just running away but it happens. The first person that said anything to me was him.
He told me how sorry he was and how he never wanted me to feel that way. I told him that I didn't want his apology and that he was the reason why i ran away and i left. My mom came and picked me up and we went out to eat that same night. We talked and she told me how worried she was but still had hope that i was alive. I knew that my mom was the only person in this messed up town that cared about me. I told her how sorry i was and that i never wanted to hurt her. I also told her how people in the town and in school made me feel and told her what happen between me and him. We cried all night but got through it and told me that i didn't have to go into school right away. I also told her that i wanted to move to a different state to start over. She said that it was a good idea and we should go for it.
Few days later, me and my mom packed all are things and never came back to this town. Wonder what else will happen in this town?
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Criminal and other communities.
The Man Who Reported His Own Murder
M Mehran At exactly 11:59 p.m., the emergency line received a call that should not have existed. “I’ve been murdered,” the voice said calmly. “My name is Kamran Yousaf. You’ll find my body in twelve hours.” The call disconnected. Inspector Rehan Qureshi listened to the recording three times. It wasn’t a prank. The caller’s voice was steady, intelligent—almost relieved. Criminal investigations begin with chaos. This one began with certainty. A Body Right on Time At noon the next day, police found Kamran Yousaf’s body in a locked apartment downtown. No signs of forced entry. No struggle. The cause of death: a gunshot wound to the chest. Time of death matched the call. Rehan felt something cold settle in his stomach. Criminals don’t predict their own deaths—not unless they already know how the story ends. A Life Carefully Erased Kamran Yousaf was a data analyst for a private security firm. No criminal history. No enemies on record. No obvious motive for suicide—and the angle of the shot ruled that out anyway. Even stranger, Kamran had deleted most of his digital footprint in the week before his death. Emails wiped. Social media gone. Bank accounts emptied and donated anonymously to multiple charities. People who plan escape do that. People who plan death usually don’t. The First Lie Rehan questioned Kamran’s colleagues. One name surfaced again and again—Naveed Iqbal, Kamran’s former business partner. They had launched a cybersecurity startup years ago. It failed. Naveed disappeared. Kamran rebuilt his life quietly. When Naveed was finally located, his hands shook as he lit a cigarette. “I hated him,” Naveed admitted. “But I didn’t kill him.” Naveed revealed the truth Kamran had uncovered recently—his security firm wasn’t protecting people. It was selling surveillance data to criminal networks, enabling blackmail, extortion, and disappearances. Kamran had found proof. And once you find something like that, you don’t get to unknow it. The Second Phone Call Rehan received another call that night. Same voice. Same calm. “You’re close,” Kamran said. “But you’re looking in the wrong direction.” Rehan froze. “You’re dead,” he whispered. “Yes,” Kamran replied. “But my murder isn’t over yet.” The call ended. Phone trace led nowhere. In twenty years of criminal investigations, Rehan had chased killers. Never a ghost. The Woman in the Photograph Hidden in Kamran’s old apartment files was a single photograph: Kamran with a woman named Areeba Khan, a freelance journalist declared missing six months earlier. Rehan found her last article draft. Unpublished. It exposed the same security firm. Same data trafficking. Same names. Areeba hadn’t vanished. She’d been silenced. Kamran knew he was next. A Death Designed as Evidence The truth unfolded piece by piece. Kamran didn’t call the police to save himself. He called to trap them. He had recorded every threat. Every illegal transaction. He had scheduled files to be released only after his death. The call, the timing, the locked room—it was all designed to force a real investigation. Because if he disappeared quietly, no one would look. If he died loudly, everyone would. The gun that killed Kamran was traced to the security firm’s head of operations, Fahad Mirza. Surveillance footage—previously “corrupted”—was recovered. Payments surfaced. The murder was clean. The cover-up was not. The Final Truth Fahad Mirza was arrested three days later. During interrogation, he said only one thing: “He wanted to die a hero.” Rehan corrected him. “He wanted the truth to live.” The public fallout was massive. Arrests followed. The firm collapsed. International investigations began. And Areeba Khan’s name was finally cleared. The Last Message Weeks later, Rehan received a scheduled email. Inspector Rehan, If you’re reading this, it means the system worked. I didn’t report my murder because I wanted attention. I reported it because silence is the real weapon criminals use. Thank you for listening. Rehan closed the file and stared at the city lights. In criminal history, there are killers. There are victims. And then there are people who turn their own death into a confession— not of guilt, but of truth.
By Muhammad Mehranabout 10 hours ago in Criminal
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.