The SAT Trap

The SAT Trap

Gavin

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Three years ago, my brother Mike vanished on his SAT day. Everyone believed he was gone, but our secret, two-part promise meant he was out there. Today, it was my SAT. Then, a text from an unknown number: "Don't take the test!" – from Mike. But my "parents" acted wrong, their reflections shifting. Even Mike's best friend, Ethan, seemed corrupted now, his concern turning waxy. All relentlessly pushed me towards the exam. I fled, only to encounter a "psychiatrist" claiming Mike died by suicide, I had PTSD, and my Mike-texts suddenly vanished. Ethan then appeared, playing the sympathetic friend, subtly guiding me to accept the "truth" and take the SAT. Was I losing my mind? Had Mike truly left me? My gut, fueled by our unwavering promise, screamed no. Their "proof"-a shoddy deepfake by Ethan-terrifyingly confirmed this elaborate lie, aimed directly at me. Trapped on a mall rooftop, "Mike's" texts urged me to jump, saying it was the only way to "wake up" from this dream. I sent him our most sacred, obscure question. His precise, impossible answer instantly came. Chilling clarity. I stepped off. I woke up, "recovered" from a coma, Mike and Ethan beside me. But the full promise, the one that prompted my leap, shattered this new "reality," revealing another layer of Ethan' s tech-driven prison. Meeting his gaze, I gripped the steering wheel. Only one final crash remained to break free and find justice.

Introduction

Three years ago, my brother Mike vanished on his SAT day. Everyone believed he was gone, but our secret, two-part promise meant he was out there. Today, it was my SAT.

Then, a text from an unknown number: "Don't take the test!" – from Mike. But my "parents" acted wrong, their reflections shifting. Even Mike's best friend, Ethan, seemed corrupted now, his concern turning waxy. All relentlessly pushed me towards the exam.

I fled, only to encounter a "psychiatrist" claiming Mike died by suicide, I had PTSD, and my Mike-texts suddenly vanished. Ethan then appeared, playing the sympathetic friend, subtly guiding me to accept the "truth" and take the SAT.

Was I losing my mind? Had Mike truly left me? My gut, fueled by our unwavering promise, screamed no. Their "proof"-a shoddy deepfake by Ethan-terrifyingly confirmed this elaborate lie, aimed directly at me.

Trapped on a mall rooftop, "Mike's" texts urged me to jump, saying it was the only way to "wake up" from this dream. I sent him our most sacred, obscure question. His precise, impossible answer instantly came. Chilling clarity. I stepped off. I woke up, "recovered" from a coma, Mike and Ethan beside me. But the full promise, the one that prompted my leap, shattered this new "reality," revealing another layer of Ethan' s tech-driven prison. Meeting his gaze, I gripped the steering wheel. Only one final crash remained to break free and find justice.

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