The Past Never Stays in the Past

This story is by Catherine A. Menz and was part of our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

Sienna was sitting at her desk, fine-tuning her proposal. Her long dark hair shot through with silver, pulled in a tight French braid, her right hand playing with the tail of her braid, her left hand moved the mouse as she read through her document.  The vision in her hazel eyes blurred. She released her braid and rose to her feet. She stretched a bit to wake herself up. Noticing her tea had gone cold, she checked the time; it was 8 PM. Immediately, her stomach sank, and her email notification dinged. She jumped slightly, even though she was expecting it. For the last couple of weeks, an anonymous person, signing their emails with only a D for their name,  had been emailing her pictures of herself when she was a teenager and a young adult. A demand for $500 accompanied each picture.

When all of this started, she had ignored the emails, not really looking at them, just barely glancing, noticing the person was naked but not focusing on the face or anything else, assuming they were spam or junk or both, and blocking the sender before deleting the email.  On the third day, when her email dinged, and it was more pictures, she had taken a longer look, more so to see what the sender address was and why they kept coming through despite being blocked. She had gasped when she finally, fully looked at the face of the woman in the pictures. It was her face, her face when she was younger, much younger. As if on cue, her phone started ringing.  Her caller ID showed a local number but no name, and she dismissed the call. Only the number kept calling and calling, and finally, fully aggravated, answered it with, “Who is this?! Why do you keep calling?!

“You don’t get to know my name, Sienna.”  The voice was rough, modulated, not quite like a computer but not quite human, and Sienna knew they were disguising their voice.  She couldn’t hide her sharp intake of breath. “At least, not yet. I do not like being ignored, and you have been ignoring my emails. I strongly advise you to stop doing that, or the consequences will be far more costly than the amount I am asking for. You have no idea of the amount of time and money it took to find all of it, to bring it all together, and to plan.”

Sienna’s knees buckled, and she sat down hard in her chair. Her hands started shaking, and her chest became tight. She was having trouble breathing. The voice laughed and then sneered, “Good, you’re listening now……. “ Her email dinged again, indicating a new message. D must have heard because they ordered her,  “Open it, Sienna.”

She felt sick as she raised a shaking hand to her mouse, opened the email, and saw the link in the middle of the page.

“ Click on the link, Sienna.”  The voice ordered

Holding her breath as she followed the command, then gasped loudly and shuddered as picture after picture of herself posing half-naked and fully naked filled the screen. She remembered when those were taken. She was around 17 at the time. Her female friend talked her into it, promising her it would be their little secret.  No one else would ever know or see them. The suggestion had been risqué, adventurous, thrilling, and a little scary. There were videos as well, videos she had made with other partners and even with her husband. They had been on VHS, made over 30 years ago, and forgotten about. Pictures and videos recorded on older cell phones had also been forgotten.

She had had several partners over the years when she was younger. She explored many areas of sexual and sensual play with each of them. Recording themselves to be watched later was fun, exciting, and took their play to a different level, as did role-playing, toys, and swinging. She hadn’t been ashamed of any of it at the time. But now, she was feeling shame and fear, concern, worry, anger, frustration, and not understanding why.

Holding back tears, struggling to breathe, she asked, “Why? Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

“My dear Sienna. You were devastatingly beautiful back then, but you didn’t realize it. Or maybe you did and pretended not to. It doesn’t really matter. I asked you out more than once, and you turned me down each time. But I persisted, and finally you agreed to one dinner, one night.” Her mind started searching through her memories as the voice continued. “I had such plans for that night. I was going to treat you like a queen.”  She had been asked out many times by men and women, often more than once. “But you stood me up. I waited for you till the restaurant closed. You never showed up. You never called to apologize or explain.” The voice paused for a moment.

“You will send me $500 every week, Sienna, or I will send that link to every family member, friend, coworker, and supervisor/manager of yours.”

“Please. Please don’t do this. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for standing you up, please.”  The voice laughed.

“Tell me who I am. What is my name?” Sienna had no idea who they were. With no immediate reply, “Time’s up, Sienna. I expect your weekly payment every Friday by Midnight. If you are so much as a minute late…… “  They trailed off, not finishing the sentence, and ended the call.

Sienna slowly lowered her phone, placing it on her desk. Silent tears trickled as she tried to control them. She was the only one in the office at this time of night.

She didn’t advertise her sexual adventures from her younger days. Too many close-minded people passing judgment on others who are different. Her family and some close friends might understand, possibly. She had no idea how her leadership team would respond should the pictures and videos be released. Public image is important in most businesses. Companies feel that employees are a representation of what the company stands for, both on and off the clock. They expect their employees to respect that and refrain from doing or saying things that could cast a bad reflection on them.

She paid the $500.00 a week to keep the pictures and movies from being released, while looking for a way out. She wrote out every name that started with a D. Two of them jumped out at her, Dale and Darren. She zeroed in on Dale. When she looked at the name, an uneasy feeling swept over her, and it was familiar. This specific feeling, this foreboding that indicated danger, she had only felt two other times. Once when an ex tried to kill her, and once when…… Suddenly, her phone went off, startling her and making her jump. She answered,

“Hello?”

A deep male voice, unmodulated, responded

“Hello, Sienna,”  he practically purred at her, and she shivered as a cold chill crept down her spine. Then she knew. She knew who he was, but she waited. He continued, “I have decided that $500 a week isn’t enough. I’m increasing it to a $1,000. “ She gasped, she couldn’t afford that! But he wasn’t done, “I’ll be sending you instructions for some home movies you will be making and sending to me. Which I will post online. “

“I will do no such thing!” She ground out. She knew the intent was to keep her under his thumb. To keep her scared, isolated, and unable to see a way out. And she was done. She would not be anyone’s whore. His response was immediate and demanding,

“Yes, you will or else.”

She pretended to cower, her voice shaking as if on the verge of tears, “Okay, okay. I will.” She needed time, just a day or two. A plan was taking shape in her mind. “But I need some time. I need to figure out how to keep my husband in the dark about this.” He laughed low.  Pushing forward while sounding hesitant and unsure, “Perhaps…. perhaps, we could meet up …. Dale.” He didn’t immediately respond. She waited. As she waited for him to confirm who he was, she pulled up her email and typed the first of several emails she would be sending. She was not going to hide her past anymore. She was letting everyone know so no one would have power over her again. Finally, he spoke,

“So, you do remember me. Meet me at Tony’s on Second Street around 8 PM tomorrow. And Sienna, don’t stand me up again.” Without waiting for a response, he hung up.

Sienna finished her emails, sent them out, got all her things together, and went straight to the police. She wouldn’t be standing Dale up again, but she wouldn’t be alone when she met up with him.