Get rid of everything. And I mean, everything.

A couple minutes later, he responded, "Get rid of everything. All of it. Now."

I stared at the screen in confusion. What did that mean? I figured he was purposefully vague, so I responded, "What does everything mean?"

A minute later, I received another email, one that turned my blood to ice.

"I mean, all of your stuff. All of it. Gone. You don't deserve any of it."

I stared in disbelief. Everything? There's no way. I figured he was just exaggerating, so I emailed him back, "Are you kidding me? I can't get rid of everything. I have a life, with hobbies and interests and friends and family."

A few minutes later, I received a text message. It was from Austin. "If you don't want this going out to the public, you'll do what I just said. And get rid of everything you own. I'm not fucking around."

I started pacing around my room. He wasn't exaggerating. He really wanted me to get rid of all of my possessions, to ensure that my dirty little secret didn't get out there.

I texted back. "Austin, I don't know if you know this, but I just recently moved out of my parents place, and I'm going to college and have a job and everything. Getting rid of all my stuff would kind of uproot all of that."