The camera roll was full of pictures—hundreds of them. All of Derek. Sleeping. In class. In the shower. In his car. And in every single photo, just behind Derek’s shoulder, stood Zachary. Same gray hoodie. Same empty expression.
One kid, Derek, decided to text Zachary about it. He scrolled through his contacts— Zachary M. —and sent: Hey, why aren’t you in the yearbook? zachary creepypasta
Zachary’s face in every photo had been scratched out. The camera roll was full of pictures—hundreds of them