All good things… really do come to an end, don’t they?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I truly believe all good plans take time and strategy… this will be my last entry. If you’re reading this, know that you were chosen for a reason beyond getting insight into the mind of a madman. I chose you. I chose you just like I chose her. I bet you’re curious. I bet you wish you knew why I chose you. Two copies of this journal exist in the world. You have one, and another chosen person has the other. You should thank me, for allowing you to see part of my plan, for allowing you to see what others can only dream about. Don’t worry… we’ll meet again, even if it’s just in your nightmares. –Final Entry — Taylor B.
Tristan
I WAS BATTLING between chasing after Lisa and listening to what Gabe had to say, because he had the look of a guy trying to help… or maybe he just looked helpless. But I knew enough about him, about Wes especially, that they would never hurt their friend intentionally. And I had a sinking feeling in my gut that this had everything to do with Lisa’s past.
I craved the information I knew they had, but I hated myself for wanting it and not being able to ignore the fact that they could have the truth I needed in order to move on.
“The website…” Gabe’s eyes clouded with anger.
I could hear Lisa’s soft sobs coming from the bathroom.
Gabe swore and kept talking. “…was called Shame.”
The website pulled up immediately.
Videos of people embarrassing other people flooded the homepage. Nothing too crazy. More like a glorified YouTube, only it focused on bullying.
“People post anonymous videos… the whole idea behind was to shame people who deserved it without having to be blamed for ruining their reputations.”
“That’s messed up,” I muttered, wondering if Lisa had been shamed on the site, feeling protective all over again.
I clenched my fists as Gabe shook his head and compressed his lips as if he was struggling for control.
“Look.” He scrolled down. “I’m showing you this because you seem to care, but Lisa isn’t like you. She isn’t like any of us. She’s fragile. She’s been through more in her short life than I can possibly imagine, and you need to know that she isn’t the same person. She was brainwashed… the sick bastard played on her insecurity, played on her desire to get noticed.” Gabe swallowed convulsively and clicked on a video then stood back. “And this is how he thanked her for her loyalty.”
The video started. I heard a guy’s voice talking, and then I saw a girl stumble forward. I knew what was happening, what would happen. I looked away. “Shut it off.”
Gabe clicked the pause button and cursed under his breath. Wes was silent from his spot on the couch.
“Twenty-seven,” Wes finally spoke up. “We had to take down twenty-seven videos… She was in all of them, Tristan.”
“Getting freaking raped?” I shouted, knocking the chair over with my hand. “Where the hell were you, Gabe?” I lunged for him but stopped because he didn’t even lift up his hands. Instead he closed in on himself and hung his head.
“Here,” Gabe said slowly. “I was here. I had no idea it had gotten so bad. I finally got her out, helped her get into school, but by then it was already too late.”
“He did what he could.” Wes came to his defense. “The only video we can’t take down is that one. For some reason, the new owner of the site is basically unreachable. We’ve sent cease and desist letters but it’s based outside the US, so we’re powerless. The only positive is it’s the only one that still plays.”
“But it’s up,” I said quietly. “And it’s only a matter of time—”
“Nobody would recognize her… not unless someone tipped off the media.”
I looked at the frozen screen, my heart twisting in my chest. The guy next to her was Taylor. The only reason I knew? He’d left a picture in the journal. I wanted to join Lisa in the bathroom in that moment. I wanted to break down, to punch something, preferably the guy who had ruined her.
The guy who had raped her and taken joy in it.
The guy who had manipulated her and relished her pain.
But most of all? I wished he was alive so I could send him back to hell.
“The guy’s name,” I whispered, needing confirmation of my suspicions.
“Taylor Blaine.”
“No.” I wanted to avert my eyes but met Gabe’s cold stare without flinching. “That’s not his name.”