sltltw 334 points 1 day ago

I, 24F, have been realizing that maybe ppl are right about me and my best friend Riley, 25F. We knew each other since elementary but my memory about her started around middle school. I’d get bullied and she would swoop in to defend me like a superhero, then we’d walk off to go have fun.

High school was great for the first two years, but then Riley got her first girlfriend who was maybe too abusive. She would hit Riley over anything and everything, and Riley was also terrible to her. If they were fighting and Riley came to me crying, I’d comfort her. I had horrible self-esteem back then so to me that was nothing in comparison to the hurt she’s gone through with this gf and others in her life. I had no reason to feel so sad and awful and nothing to talk about. So anytime Riley needed me, I dropped everything for her.

But then covid hit and I stayed home instead of going to hang out with her and Madison. Riley and Madison would go to parks and do fun stuff while I’d stay home and read. But when I read, I’d get dragged for reading for fun and not hanging out with them. They tried to get me into drawing but the last time I drew something was in high school so I didn’t have the drive or confidence to start yet. Riley and Madison weren’t mean about it but were upset about it.

The first time I ever stood up to Riley was when she tanked the entire DNB campaign my friend Avery made for our friend group by making her character purposely overpowering and not listening to anything Avery, the DM, said. Avery ended the campaign after only 4 sessions. After that, Riley was upset but I told Riley she wasn’t right. Like maybe her build wasn’t too op but her behavior and refusal to listen definitely was the reason the campaign ended. She stopped talking to me.

Then a while after that, Avery said no to her in another way (I forgot what it was that happened) but since then, Riley has never viewed Avery positively.

Lately, Riley and Madison have been going through things and talking about their experiences on notes. Riley explained her childhood abuse and how my stuff wasn’t that bad and that I should write about what happened to me. So I did. And since then, Riley and Madison have started to ignore me. I’ve been so confused for so long.

But then one day a few weeks ago, my parents, Lauren and Ethan, confronted me. They had seen the notes I wrote and instead of asking, they demanded answers. But when I said they don’t get to demand them and I hadn’t even been here to explain them, they blew up on me, especially Ethan, saying I was being dramatic about the most normal things.

And then something in me snapped. I told them how I felt and argued til I cried, then they threatened to send me inpatient, said I made myself sick and that I didn’t deserve to be hurt.

And I told Riley all about it.

She got mad. At me.

She said “obviously you shouldn’t have told your parents anything, you should’ve just shut your mouth since your problems don’t compare to others. Just keep it to yourself. Your mom is right. You’re so dramatic. You’re making nothing into something and making problems that aren’t there. If you wanna be upset then go ahead but don’t complain you didn’t get support cause the reason they didn’t care is cause your problems aren’t real.”

Riley then blocked me.

Then Avery snapped and told me everything Riley had said about me behind my back and cut me off saying “We thought you’d be kinder about it.” (“we” means Riley and Madison). I know Grace, our other friend, had been upset Riley was talking about me but Riley had cornered her into agreeing with them on things. And any time I confided in Grace, Grace would have Riley in the room next to her too ready to jump in. Both Avery and Grace stopped talking to me for unknown reasons a year ago.

After Avery and Grace cut me off, I told myself I’d finally hit rock bottom.
No friends.
No support system.
Everything I thought I had—gone in a matter of days.

The silence was the worst part.

For years, my phone never stopped buzzing because Riley always needed something—comfort, attention, validation, distraction. And every time she needed me, she’d blow up my phone until I responded.

Now?

Nothing.

Not a single notification.

Just me, alone with my thoughts… and the realization that maybe I’d built my entire personality around being someone’s emotional punching bag.

I didn’t know who I was without Riley.

And that scared me more than losing her ever did.

The Breakdown

One night, it all crashed down on me.
My mom, Lauren, knocked on my door, and when I didn’t answer, she just walked in.

“You’re still in bed? It’s 3 PM,” she said, sounding annoyed rather than worried.

I wanted to scream.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted someone—anyone—to ask if I was okay.

Instead, Lauren sighed and said, “You need to stop sulking over this friend drama. You’re too old to be acting like this.”

I felt something inside me close off.

It was pathetic, but I missed Riley.
Even at her worst, she pretended to care.

My parents couldn’t even do that.

The Unexpected Message

A week later, something happened I didn’t expect.

A message appeared on my phone.

From Grace.

Grace: Can we talk? Alone. Please.

My heart dropped to my stomach.
I didn’t answer for 20 minutes because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

When I finally replied, she immediately called me.

And she sounded… terrified.

“Riley’s losing it,” Grace whispered. “She’s been monitoring everything Madison posts, everything I say, every time I hang out with the others. She’s… she’s not stable. She’s saying you betrayed her. She’s trying to make everyone hate you because she thinks you were becoming ‘too confident.’”

I froze.

Too confident?

I hadn’t felt confident a single day in my life.

“What did I do?” I whispered.

Grace exhaled shakily. “Nothing. That’s the problem. You existed without her.”

Those words hit harder than anything Ethan or Lauren had ever yelled at me.

The Collapse of Their Group

Grace told me things I wish I didn’t know:

• Riley and Madison were fighting nonstop
• Avery was distancing herself from Riley
• Madison had told someone she felt “trapped”
• Riley had been venting in private chats about how she “needed control back”
• Riley was furious I had stopped playing therapist for her

Grace’s voice cracked.
“I should’ve spoken up earlier. I’m sorry. Riley made it impossible.”

For the first time in months, someone was talking to me—not at me, not accusing me, not dismissing me.

Just talking.

Like I mattered.

The Revelation

Then Grace said the one thing that finally made everything click:

“Riley doesn’t want friends. She wants followers. And you stopped being one.”

I didn’t speak for a long time.

Because deep down…
I knew it was true.

Riley’s entire life was built on people orbiting her, validating her, agreeing with her, comforting her, sacrificing for her.

The moment I began expressing feelings of my own—real, vulnerable ones—she saw me as competition instead of support.

She didn’t want me healed.
She wanted me broken.

And I had been, for a long time.

What Now?

Grace asked if I wanted to meet up in person.
Part of me wanted to say yes.
Part of me was terrified this was another trap Riley set up.

But another part—small, timid, but finally alive—whispered:

Maybe it’s okay to have friends who don’t need to break you to feel whole.

So I told Grace, “Let me think about it.”

And for the first time in years…

I felt like I had the control.

I didn’t sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, memories of Riley resurfaced—not the good ones, but the ones I’d buried so deep I pretended they never happened.

Times she insulted me as a “joke.”
Times she told our friends I was “overly sensitive.”
Times she snapped at me in private, then acted sweet in public.
Times she made me apologize for things she did.

Grace’s words circled in my mind like a loose ceiling fan blade ready to fall:

“Riley doesn’t want friends. She wants followers.”

It explained everything.

And now that I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

---

THE MEET-UP

The next afternoon, after hours of pacing, I texted Grace.

Me: Ok. We can meet.
But somewhere public.

She agreed instantly.

We met at a small café near campus. I got there early—out of anxiety, not eagerness—and sat in the far corner where I could see the door.

Grace walked in five minutes later.

She looked… exhausted.
Like someone who’d been holding her breath for months.

She sat down quietly, fingers trembling around her iced latte.

“Thank you for meeting me,” she said softly.

I nodded, unsure what to say. There were too many emotions—fear, anger, confusion, relief—crowding my throat.

Grace was the first to speak again.

“I still feel guilty,” she murmured. “When Riley talked bad about you, I didn’t defend you enough.”

I blinked. “…She talked about me that much?”

Grace gave a sad laugh. “Every time she was insecure. Which was a lot.”

Then she leaned forward.

“Riley hates when people get better. She hates when people grow. She wants everyone stuck where she is so she doesn’t feel left behind.”

My stomach tightened.

Grace wasn’t telling me anything new.
She was confirming everything I had been too scared to admit.

THE SHIFT

After a moment, Grace inhaled shakily.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered. “You weren’t the only one she cut off.”

That got my attention.

“She isolated Madison too,” Grace said. “Whenever Madison had a bad day, Riley made it about herself. If Madison cried, Riley got angry and said she was ‘guilting her.’ If Madison opened up, Riley accused her of ‘trauma dumping.’”

I stared at her.

Grace continued, voice lowering:

“Avery tried to call her out privately. Riley exploded. Then blamed you.”

My throat tightened. “Blamed me? For what?”

“For ‘changing.’ For ‘distancing yourself.’ For ‘influencing everyone else.’”

I almost laughed.
I hadn’t influenced anyone.
I barely influenced my own life.

Grace met my eyes, and there was something raw there.

“She needs a villain,” Grace said quietly. “And since you stopped being her emotional support animal, you became the easiest one.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or scream.

A FINAL CONFESSION

Grace waited until our drinks were empty before she said the part she clearly dreaded.

“Riley knows we’re talking today.”

My blood went cold.

Grace hurried to continue.

“She doesn’t know where. Or what we’re talking about. But she knows something’s off. She’s been calling me nonstop.”

I felt a chilling, familiar heaviness settle in my chest—the old instinct to protect Riley from consequences, to shrink myself to avoid being a target.

I forced myself to sit up straighter.

“I’m done being scared of her,” I said, more to myself than to Grace.

Grace nodded, eyes softening.

“I am too.”

THE MESSAGE

When I got home, I opened my phone.

Five missed calls.

Six voicemails.

Fourteen texts.

All from Riley.

The most recent one read:

Riley: Why are you doing this?
You’re ruining everything.

For the first time ever…

I didn’t feel guilty.

I felt free.

I stared at Riley’s message for a long time.

“You’re ruining everything.”

It was the same kind of message she always sent when she felt her grip slipping.
The same guilt-trip pattern.
The same projection.

But this time…
I didn’t reply.

I put my phone face-down and walked into the kitchen to make tea, trying to ground myself.

And then—

my phone buzzed again.

Against my better judgment, I checked it.

But it wasn’t Riley.

It was Madison.

THE TEXT FROM MADISON

Madison: Can we talk? Please? Not with Riley. Just us.

My chest tightened.

Madison almost never reached out to me privately. If she did, Riley was always right next to her, reading over her shoulder, chiming in, controlling the narrative.

So this message meant something was wrong.

I typed back carefully.

Me: Is everything okay?

It took a full two minutes before the typing bubble appeared.

Madison: No. Not at all. I think I need to get away from her. And I don’t know who else to talk to.

I froze.

Because I knew exactly what that felt like.
Once you saw Riley clearly—really clearly—you couldn’t unsee it.
The manipulation.
The jealousy.
The silent punishments.
The “you owe me” attitude.
The way she rewired your thinking until you believed her reactions were your fault.

And Madison had been with her almost every day for years.

If I was drowning, Madison must’ve been suffocating.

THE CALL

Madison asked if she could call.
My hands shook as I typed:

Me: Yeah. I can talk.

The phone rang immediately.

When I answered, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Riley went through my messages.”

My stomach sank.

“She saw I was texting Grace earlier,” Madison continued, voice cracking. “She accused me of ‘picking sides.’ Then she started yelling. Like really yelling. Saying I’m ‘betraying’ her and ‘making her the villain.’”

I swallowed. “Madison… I’m so sorry.”

Madison sniffled. “I’m scared of her. Like actually scared. I’ve never seen her this angry.”

That hit me harder than I expected.

Because I had seen her that angry.
Dozens of times.
She never hit me, but the emotional violence? It was enough to break anyone.

“What do you want to do?” I asked gently.

She inhaled shakily.

“I think… I think I want to leave the friend group.”

I didn’t speak. I didn’t want to influence her.

“I don’t want to be around someone who explodes every time I have an opinion,” Madison whispered. “Or someone who says I’m guilt-tripping her just because I cried. Or someone who calls me ‘disloyal’ if I have other friends.”

My throat tightened.

She was describing exactly what Riley did to me.

Exactly what I allowed for years.

THE TURNING POINT

“Can I ask you something?” Madison said.

“Of course.”

“…Was she ever nice to you? Like… genuinely nice?”

I breathed out slowly.

There were moments.
Small ones.
The kind you cling to because they convince you the person hurting you is still worth saving.

“Sometimes,” I said. “But only when she needed something. Or wanted to look good.”

Madison’s silence told me she knew that answer all too well.

Then she whispered:

“I think she hates us more when we grow.”

Something inside me clicked into place.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Because she doesn’t want friends. She wants people who make her feel in control.”

Madison let out a broken breath—half relief, half grief.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m so, so tired.”

THE WARNING

Just as we were about to end the call, Madison’s voice suddenly tensed.

“I need to tell you one more thing.”

My heart pounded. “What is it?”

There was a long pause.

Then she whispered:

“Riley’s looking for you.”

My blood went ice-cold.

“She said she wants to ‘talk’ before you ‘turn everyone against her.’ She’s already on her way to your house.”

My body went rigid.

“She’s what?”

Madison’s voice shook.

“She’s furious. And when Riley gets like this… you know how she gets.”

I grabbed my keys, pulse racing.

Madison’s last words echoed in my ear long after the call ended:

“Please be careful. This isn’t the normal Riley. She’s past the point of reasoning.”

I didn’t remember grabbing my jacket.
I didn’t remember putting on my shoes.
My body was on autopilot, fueled by a cold, sharp panic.

Riley.
Coming here.

Madison’s voice kept looping in my mind:

“She’s past the point of reasoning.”

I locked every door in the house, double-checked the windows, and turned off the living room lights.
My heartbeat was so loud I could hear it in my ears.

Then—

a car door slammed.

Right outside.

My breath stopped.

I peeked through the blinds.

It was her.

Riley stood on the sidewalk, pacing back and forth, clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles were white. Her face was twisted with a fury I had only seen pieces of before—but never this concentrated. Never directed at me.

Her phone lit up her face as she typed.

A second later, my phone buzzed.

I nearly jumped.

THE MESSAGE

Riley: I know you’re home.
We need to talk.
Now.

I didn’t reply.

Another message.

Riley: Don’t make me do this the hard way.

A shiver crawled down my spine.

She wasn’t being metaphorical.

THE KNOCK

A minute later—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

She was hitting the front door with her fist.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” she shouted. “WE ARE NOT DOING THIS AGAIN!”

My whole body tensed.
I backed away from the door, heart hammering.

“YOU OWE ME A CONVERSATION!” she yelled. “AFTER EVERYTHING I DID FOR YOU, YOU CAN’T JUST—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

Then her voice dropped, quieter. Scarier.

“…Are you really going to hide from me?”

I clamped a hand over my mouth.

I didn’t trust my voice.
I didn’t trust myself not to open the door out of habit.

Because for years, that was the dynamic.

She yelled.
I comforted.
She pushed.
I folded.
She cried.
I apologized.

Not this time.

Not anymore.

THE SHIFT

The banging stopped.

For a moment, I thought maybe she left.

Then—

SCRAPE.

She was trying the doorknob.

Not violently.
Just testing it.

Like she wanted to know if she could come in.

My voice finally broke through the fear.

“Riley, you need to go home.”

Silence.

Then she laughed.

Not amused.
Not surprised.
A cold, sharp laugh dripping with disbelief.

“So that’s how it is?” she said through the door. “You think you’re too good for me now? Because what—Madison cried to you? Grace gave you pity? You think they’re on your side?”

I swallowed hard.

“Riley, I don’t want to fight.”

“Oh, but you already DID,” she snapped. “You threw me away. After EVERYTHING. And for what? So you can pretend to be the victim?”

My fingers curled into fists.

“I’m not pretending,” I said quietly.

Something hit the door—maybe her hand, maybe her phone.

“YOU ARE PATHETIC!” she screamed. “DON’T YOU GET IT? WITHOUT ME, YOU HAVE NO ONE!”

Her words were knives I’d heard a thousand times.

But this time… they didn’t cut as deep.

I found my voice.

“I’d rather have no one than have you.”

There was a long, awful silence on the other side of the door.

Then Riley said, almost eerily calm:

“…I see. So that’s what you’ve decided.”

Footsteps retreated.

Her car engine started.

And she drove off without another word.

THE AFTERMATH

I sank to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. It took minutes before I could even breathe normally.

My phone buzzed again—this time from Madison.

Madison: Did she show up?? Are you safe??

I sent one message:

Me: She’s gone. For now.

Madison replied instantly.

Madison: For now???
What did she do??

But before I could answer, another notification popped up.

A new text.

Not from Madison.

Not from Riley.

From Avery.

Avery hadn’t spoken to me in a year.

My hands trembled as I opened her message.

Avery: We need to talk.
It’s about Riley.
And you’re not going to like what I found out.

My stomach dropped.

Whatever this was…

It was bigger than drama.
Bigger than hurt feelings.
Bigger than everything I thought I understood.

And for the first time,
I realized:

Riley wasn’t just losing control.
She was hiding something.

Avery’s name on my screen made my pulse jolt.

We hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

Not since the last time Riley had twisted our friendship into something ugly and unsalvageable.

My thumb hovered before I finally typed:

Me: What did you find out?

Avery’s typing bubble appeared instantly.

Then disappeared.

Then reappeared.

Whatever she was trying to say… she was struggling to put it into words.

Finally, her message came through:

Avery: It’s about the group chat Riley made.
The one she said was to “protect you.”

My stomach tightened.

Me: What about it?

There was a long pause before Avery sent the next message:

Avery: You weren’t the only person she fixated on.
You weren’t her first.
And… I don’t think you were ever her friend.

A chill slid down my spine.

I called her.

She answered on the first ring.

Her voice was low, tense, like she was afraid someone might hear her.

“Are you somewhere alone?” Avery asked.

“Yeah.”

She exhaled.
“Good. I didn’t want to text all of this.”

I sank onto the edge of my bed.
“Just tell me.”

There was rustling on her end, like she was grabbing papers.

“I left that friend group last year because of something Riley did,” Avery said. “I didn’t tell anyone because honestly, I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

I didn’t respond.

Avery continued:

“She made a group chat about me. The same way she made one about you. She told everyone I was manipulating her, that I was trying to isolate her, that I was the problem.”

My pulse quickened.

“It was the same pattern,” Avery said. “She picks someone. Gets attached. Then the moment you set a boundary or get close to anyone else… she turns you into the villain.”

I swallowed hard.
It was exactly what had happened to me.

“She told people you were dangerous,” Avery whispered. “That you had ‘episodes.’ That she was afraid of you. She even tried to get Grace and Madison to cut contact with you months before all this happened. She’s been preparing this for a long time.”

My stomach twisted.

I felt sick.

“She needs control,” Avery said quietly. “Of her friends, of the narrative, of you. It’s not about caring. It’s about ownership. And when she loses control, she panics.”

“Is that why she came to my house?” I asked.

“Yes,” Avery answered without hesitation. “She’s losing her grip. And she’s not done.”

The room seemed colder.

“Listen,” Avery said, voice firm now, “I’m going to send you screenshots. Proof. All of it. Madison and Grace deserve to see it too. You’re not crazy. You’re not overreacting. Riley has been orchestrating this for a long time.”

I closed my eyes.

It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me.

Avery added, softer:

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. And I’m sorry I didn’t warn you sooner.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Be careful,” she said. “If she feels like she’s losing everything, she might do something reckless.”

We hung up.

I sat in the dark, watching as screenshots started flooding in from Avery—months of manipulation, lies, group chats, voice messages, Riley spinning stories about me that were more fiction than reality.

Every piece made the picture clearer.

Riley hadn’t just “gotten upset.”

She had engineered a narrative where she was the victim.

I was the threat.

Everyone else was the audience.

And the moment her story stopped being believable, she had to escalate.

My phone buzzed again.

A message from Riley.

Not yelling.
Not furious.
Not desperate.

Cold.

Almost businesslike.

Riley: I understand everything now.
Thank you for showing me who you really are.

Then a second message:

Riley: Don’t worry. You won’t hear from me again.
But they will.

A screenshot attached.

My stomach dropped.

It was a new group chat.

With people I knew.
People I worked with.
People from school.

She had added them and was already typing.

That was her last line of attack.

If she couldn’t control me…

She’d control my reputation.

I stared at the screen.

My hands didn’t shake.

Not this time.

I took a breath and typed one final message to her:

Me: Stop.
Or I go to the police with everything.
Every message.
Every recording.
Every threat.
Every attempt to show up at my home.
Choose wisely.

She saw the message immediately.

Three dots appeared.

They blinked for a long time.

Then disappeared.

And she left the group chat she had created.

One minute later, she blocked me on everything.

I sat there, letting the silence settle.

For the first time in years…

I didn’t feel afraid.

I felt free.

Madiso and Grace apologized.
Avery and I reconnected.
My circle became smaller—stronger—healthier.

Riley?

I never heard from her again.

Rumor said she moved states.
Started university somewhere else.
Found new people.

Maybe she found help.
Maybe she found new targets.

Either way—

She wasn’t my problem anymore.

And in the quiet that followed her absence, I realized something important:

Sometimes closure isn’t a conversation.
Sometimes it’s protecting your peace.
Sometimes it’s choosing yourself.

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do…
is walk away from the fire instead of putting it out.

And I did.

Finally.

Fully.

Completely.