Causing Nightmares

Jade had always thrived in the ordered rhythm of her high school life, balancing the demands of her final year with the ease that came from being one of the most popular girls in school. At seventeen, she moved through the crowded hallways with a confident grace, her long dark hair swaying and her bright green eyes drawing admiring glances from classmates, though she rarely noticed them anymore—it had become routine. That evening, after finishing her calculus homework at the desk in her neatly organized bedroom, she felt the familiar tug of exhaustion and decided to unwind, slipping under the covers with her phone in hand to catch up on her favorite true-crime series. The show’s dramatic twists usually helped her forget the day’s stresses, but tonight, something far more unsettling was about to intrude.

As the episode played on her screen, Jade lay propped up against her pillows, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face in the dim room. She lived in a quiet suburban house with her parents, who were downstairs watching their own TV, oblivious to the ordinary night unfolding. Jade scrolled absentmindedly through social media between scenes, liking posts from her friends about weekend plans and school gossip, feeling the weight of impending exams lift slightly. She was dressed in her usual bedtime attire—a oversized T-shirt and shorts—and the house was silent except for the muffled sounds from the living room and the occasional car passing outside. It was a typical Thursday, nothing out of the ordinary, which made the sudden vibration of her phone all the more jarring.

The alert flashed across the screen, a notification bubble popping up over her streaming app. Jade glanced at it, expecting a message from Sandra or Mel her closest friends, maybe something about the party they were planning for next weekend. Instead, the sender’s number was unfamiliar, just a string of digits with no name attached. Her curiosity piqued, she tapped on it, and the message loaded: a single photo accompanied by three simple words. The image was grainy but clear enough to send a chill down her spine—it showed her asleep in her bed, her face relaxed and vulnerable, the same position she had been in just minutes before. The message read: “I love you.”

For a moment, Jade stared at the screen, her heart pounding in her chest as if the room had suddenly dropped ten degrees. She sat up straight, the bedsheets rustling around her, and double-checked the photo. It was definitely her; she recognized the corner of her nightstand in the background, the one with the stack of books and her favorite lamp. But how? Who could have taken this? Her mind raced through possibilities—maybe it was a prank from one of her friends, though that seemed unlikely; they weren’t the type to go that far. Or perhaps it was an ex from last year, the one she’d broken up with after he got too clingy, but even that didn’t make sense. He’d moved to another school months ago. Jade’s breath quickened as she enlarged the image, scrutinizing every pixel for clues. The photo looked like it had been taken from outside her window, the angle slightly off, as if the photographer had been hiding in the shadows of the backyard. Her curtains were drawn, but not fully; she remembered leaving a small gap earlier when she’d glanced out at the stars.

Panic began to bubble up inside her, a mix of fear and confusion that made her hands tremble. She quickly locked her phone and glanced toward the window, her eyes straining in the darkness. The streetlight outside cast faint shadows on the lawn, but everything appeared still. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if eyes were boring into her from somewhere unseen. Jade’s thoughts spiraled—had someone been in her room? No, that was impossible; her door was closed, and her parents were just downstairs. She considered showing the message to them, but what would she say? It sounded crazy, even to her. “Mom, Dad, someone sent me a picture of myself sleeping.” They’d probably brush it off as a harmless joke or tell her to block the number, but deep down, Jade knew it wasn’t that simple. This wasn’t some random spam; it was personal, intimate in a way that made her skin crawl.

She forced herself to breathe steadily, trying to regain some control. Jade opened her phone again, screenshotting the message before deleting it, her fingers moving on autopilot. Who even had her number? She was careful about that, only sharing it with people she trusted. As she sat there, the true-crime episode still playing ignored in the background, a wave of vulnerability washed over her. She was popular, yes, but that meant she was visible, out there for anyone to notice. Had she unknowingly caught someone’s eye? The thought made her stomach twist. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, suddenly feeling exposed in her own bed, and debated calling Sarah. But what good would that do? Sarah would freak out and tell everyone, turning it into school drama, and Jade wasn’t ready for that. No, she needed to handle this herself, at least for now.