Cressie chimed in, her voice tinny through Mom’s phone speaker. “Guys, maybe we should back off the intervention vibe here.”

Mom said, “What would you call it then?”

Cressie said, “Enlightenment.”

I said, “This feels like you’re about to induct me into a cult.”

“Show him, guys,” Cressie said.

Mom produced her MacBook from the bag at her feet, woke it, then passed it to my dad. He glanced at whatever, shook his head, then passed it to me. It was a YouTube video. Cressie’s show. The second episode she ever posted on her channel, an episode I never watched: “The Trouble with College Bruhs.”

“Why do I need to look at Cressie’s show?”

Dad said, “Press Play. You’ll get it.”

I tapped the icon and my sister was in motion.

CRESSIE

Hey, everyone, it’s Cressida. The feedback for the first video has been awesome, and there have been a lot of great suggestions. I don’t think I’ve seen a topic that I don’t want to cover yet. However, something strange happened in the comments of my last video when “SarahThePatriarchy Slayer” mentioned telling scary stories. I thought she meant ghost stories, like at a sleepover. Until I read her example. Trigger warning, y’all. It said: “This guy asked for my phone number at a coffee shop. I politely told him no. He asked if I had a boyfriend, and I said no. He smiled, and placed an order for an extra-hot latte. When he got it, he took the lid off and tossed it directly on me. It hit me in the chest, so my shirt saved me from a first-degree burn. When I screamed, he said, ‘It could’ve been your face,’ and ran out of the shop. Now I give guys fake names and numbers. So it’s not my face next time.”

I paused the video, startled. “What is this?”

Dad said, “Keep going, son.”

“But—”

“Do it.”

CRESSIE

Y’all caught on faster than I did, because the replies were harrowing, but not surprising. Like “TaKeisha5219’s” story about the strange guy who hopped into an Uber with her before she could close the door, because she was so beautiful. And when she told the Uber driver she didn’t know the stranger, the driver said, “Well you ARE beautiful, learn to take a compliment.” She had to endure a ride to her friend’s house with two strange creeps, her only other option being to dive from the moving vehicle.

That thread is still there, and the stories range from frightening to grotesque, with more than a few heartbreaking tragedies among the tales. One reply that stood out to me came from a woman whom I consider a mentor now. Jaylan, of the Jaylan Knows channel. She wrote, “These are scary stories, but also entitlement stories. In every one of them a man felt entitled to a woman’s time, attention, body because . . . reasons. And to appease their entitlement, we get left with scars. The wariness of animals who only want to forage but who always have to watch for the shadow of a predatory hawk, or slithering viper. No space is safe where toxic male energy is permitted, or simply invades. But, we all knew that, didn’t we? It’s the other gender that seems ignorant to their toxic colonization of a woman’s right to breathe, and sunshine, and solace. Too bad they aren’t reading these stories, too.”