Chapter 1: The Innocence of Youth

Reflecting on the past, it’s easy to forget that individuals like this exist, yet it's crucial to acknowledge their presence. Back when I was in high school, AOL was extremely popular. We received those CD-ROMs in the mail, and my friend Melly and I often spent our afternoons exploring chat rooms.

At sixteen, our interactions were innocent. We had brief online relationships that lasted only a few days before being ghosted. Despite warnings from our parents about online strangers, we were curious and found ways to connect.

In truth, I believe I’ve suppressed that memory over the years, but it lingers, and I think about it often without ever voicing it. You never expect to encounter individuals like him, yet discussions about such experiences are essential. The manner in which he spoke to me is etched in my mind.

I can't recall exactly why Melly and I ventured into that chatroom; we rarely did during sleepovers. We were still naïve, having only engaged with boys online from sites like Neopets who disappeared shortly after. If I remember correctly, it was a “teens only” chat space where we simply wanted to engage with some guys. Our conversation began when he asked, “A/S/L?” and we responded.

What remains vivid in my memory is his repeated requests for our photos. Melly and I had recently taken those cringe-worthy mall pictures—complete with sparkly backgrounds and harsh filters. I can still visualize my outfit: a blue, long-sleeved top with stripes, my frizzy red hair that I attempted to straighten, and that uncertain smile. I was undeniably young.

Perhaps he noticed my insecurity because he commented, “Mmm...you’re hot,” causing my cheeks to flush. As a young girl yearning for male attention, I felt flattered, even though a part of me recognized the twisted nature of his words. Men like him know precisely how to manipulate vulnerable girls. It still gives me chills.

As an adult, I wish I could reach back and pull my younger self away from that computer. Instead, I typed, “Thanks.” Despite the unease he instilled in me, there was a desperate need for his approval, as if rejecting him would make me the antagonist.

And then he said it. I recall how calmly he typed it, as if I were a consenting adult he met on a dating platform:

“If you come over, I’ll have sex with you.”

“I can’t,” I replied, “I don’t have a car or a way to get to you.”

I can’t explain why I responded this way instead of telling him off. This illustrates the risk children face online; they often don’t know how to react. At that age, the desire for acceptance is strong, especially among young women who don’t yet know how to assert themselves or escape uncomfortable situations.

A disturbing study from the Pew Research Center in 2018 revealed that 51% of teens aged 13-17 in the U.S. admitted to being online almost constantly. This trend has likely persisted since the early 2000s when we would seize any opportunity for dial-up internet access.

Moreover, this study, the first to address this troubling issue, found that out of over 5,000 participants, more than 300 reported engaging in some form of sexual activity online in the previous year, with 32 feeling coerced. The majority of these teens were young girls, often targeted by older men.

Let that sink in.

Neither Melly nor I were looking for anything sexual, which makes it even more frightening, as men were lurking in the shadows. We were aware of these dangers, but encountering them firsthand is a different experience altogether. I hope you never have to understand this feeling, but it can be summed up in one word: dangerous.

“If you can get to L.A., I’ll have sex with you.”

Those words are still imprinted on my mind, displayed on the screen with his replies in red and mine in blue. My friend was nearby, but I can’t visualize her in that moment—only the words remain. She didn’t say much, and I don’t think I confided in her. I remember feeling afraid and weirded out.

Who knows what I told him afterward? Everything becomes a blur. Somehow, I excused myself from the conversation