We sat in her living room and I took out my phone. If we were going to find out who this guy – or girl – was, we were going to need all the help we could get. And all that help consisted of this weird phone.
I slid the phone to unlock it and we stared down at it. Where do we start?
“Pictures,” tried Anna.
I clicked on the photo icon and started from the beginning.The first few photos were… normal. A teenage girl with long blonde hair, a toothy smile, and some leftover acne from her preteen years. She had taken a lot of selfies and stupid pictures with her friends. Judging by her appearance alone, I figured I had been right in the first place, that she was a high schooler. But why would a high schooler be doing this? Could she even pull it off? She would have needed a pretty good fake ID to get into the club. And I think I would have remembered seeing someone so young. This just didn’t make sense.
I continued scrolling. Pretty soon a guy started appearing in the pictures, with messy brown hair and a dangerously charming smile. They seemed to be getting pretty close. Her friends slowly disappeared from her pictures and were all replaced by who I could only assume was her boyfriend.
And then the pictures turned black. Also See: I hacked into a cam girl’s computer and what I found truly terrified me..
That was it, just blackness. Assuming it was a dud, I went to the next picture.
We scrolled through a few like this. Anna shrugged. “This is totally weird.”
I swiped right again, and the screen seemed to explode with color.
I saw the blonde teen again, but this time she was lying on the ground. Her hair actually looked like it had turned strawberry blonde. It took me a moment to register that it was matted with blood. Her head was crooked to the side and her right arm was twisted at an odd angle behind her. Blood had pooled around her and her formerly bright blue eyes had dulled and were staring out into nothing. Dead.
Anna let out a scream. I threw the phone down and ran to the bathroom. I was sick for a few minutes, before I returned. Anna was shaking on the couch, staring at the phone, still lying where I’d left it a few minutes earlier.
“Are you okay?”
Anna nodded. “What the fuck is this?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“We have to find out who this girl is. And if her boyfriend did this.”
I nodded. Gingerly, I picked up the phone again. I figured the remaining pictures might give us more clues.
Without looking, I swiped past the gory catalogue of the girl’s death. Next was another black picture. And another one. And another. My anticipation and anxiety grew with each swipe.