When the girl arrived at my door, sunlight catching in the strands of her messy braid, she carried a small tin of brushes and ribbons like a traveling artist. Without wasting a moment, she nudged me toward the chair by the window, insisting that today I deserved to look “properly legendary.” As she worked, gently combing through my tangled hair and straightening the folds of my jacket, she talked about the little triumphs of her morning—saving a stray kitten, finding a lucky penny, outrunning a storm cloud. By the time she tied the final ribbon and stepped back with a proud grin, I hardly recognized myself in the reflection: not transformed, exactly, but somehow brighter, as if her careful grooming had polished away more than just the messy edges.

Tijana arrived at our school in the middle of the year, mysterious and confident in a way that drew everyone in. I felt lucky when she chose me as her closest friend. She made me feel special, telling me she understood me better than anyone else.

But slowly, her kindness shifted. Tijana discouraged me from talking to others, insisting they didn’t appreciate me like she did. When I disagreed with her, she went silent until I apologized. I started doubting my own decisions, waiting for her approval before doing anything.

She pushed me to share personal things and acted hurt whenever I hesitated. I thought I owed her more, even though I felt smaller every day.

During a group project, being around others again helped me breathe. A classmate asked if I was okay, and for the first time, I realized I wasn’t.

I told a teacher—and finally stepped away from Tijana’s control.

(im 15 btw)

had a similar experience

Heres my tragic grooming survival story:
I didn’t realize anything was wrong until the streetlights flickered. The whole block was quiet—too quiet—and Tijana kept insisting she knew a shortcut. I’d only met her earlier that night through some friends. She seemed relaxed, joking, the kind of person who never looked rattled. I figured she was safe. When she steered me toward the narrow alley between the old apartments, something in my gut tried to warn me. But I followed anyway.

The air changed the moment we stepped inside. Tijana stopped walking. She didn’t look back.

“Phone,” she said. Her voice wasn’t playful anymore. “Hand it over.”

I froze.

Her smile was small, almost apologetic, but her eyes were sharp.

Thats when it happened. She grabbed me, pulled down my trousers and- and I dont think I can continue. It all went to fast. Im still shaking at the thought of it.

She dropped me off back home tho to ensure id arrive safely cause she is a #ChillPedo

𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕕𝕒𝕝, 𝕀 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣