🎬 Freshman Year, New Script?

Freshman year. New school.
Fresh start… right?

I was kind. I always am. ✨
But sometimes, kindness gets mistaken for consent. Or worse—invitation.

👤 The Shadow I Didn’t Cast

There was a boy.
Not a classmate. Not a crush. Just someone I was polite to.

And he latched on like a shadow.

He followed me like a lost puppy.
Called. Texted. Constantly. 📱
At first, I chalked it up to awkwardness. I tried to be gentle, not wanting to be mean. Not wanting to be that girl.

📞 The Night the Phone Wouldn’t Stop

Then came the night.
4 a.m. My phone rang. It was him.

I didn’t pick up right away, but when I finally did, he asked, “Where are you?”
“Home,” I replied. “Sleeping.” 💤

He didn’t believe me.

He told me to prove it.
Turns out, he was standing outside my apartment. 😳

I told him to leave.
He didn’t.

That night, my phone received over 400 calls. Four. Hundred. Calls.

🚨 Reporting Isn’t Always Rescue

I told my friends. They said I should tell someone. So I did.

I went to the office and spoke to the school’s police officer.
He called him in and made it crystal clear:
Stop, or a PPO will follow. 🛑

My number was changed.
He was switched out of my classes.

But the whispers didn’t stop.
Not from him—from my friends. The same friends who told me to go to the office in the first place.

“How could you do that to him?”
“He’s just lonely.”
“That was so mean.” 🙄

I lost more than a phone number that week.
I lost a friend group. 💔

📝 The Note in the Lab

He mostly left me alone after that, except for one moment.

We shared a computer lab. I got up to grab something from the printer.
Sitting there was a note in his handwriting:

“I am so proud of you.”

That was it. No name. No mention of anything.
But I knew what he meant.

He was referring to the play I directed—Done to Death. 🎭
A quiet, lingering message.
A ghost of something I never invited in.

🖤 For the Girls Who Know

This isn’t about fear.
It’s about boundaries.
It’s about how girls are trained to be nice, even when they’re uncomfortable—because “he’s just awkward,” or “he doesn’t mean anything by it,” or “it’s flattering, right?”

It wasn’t flattering.
It was suffocating.
And it was scary. 🖤

So here’s to the girls who trusted their gut.
Who reported him even when it cost them their friend group.
Who know that silence isn’t the price for someone else’s comfort.

If this happened to you? I believe you.
Your story matters.
And you’re not alone. 🌙