
Sophia Martinez ruled our high school like a queen. Her dad was the principal, so she could do whatever she wanted without consequences.
But her favorite target was my little brother Danny.
Danny has autism and was an easy mark for Sophia's cruelty. She'd knock his books out of his hands, call him names in the hallways, and get her friends to film him having meltdowns.
"It's just kids being kids," Principal Martinez would say whenever I complained. "Sophia would never bully anyone."
Meanwhile, his precious daughter was making my brother's life hell.
Danny started having panic attacks about going to school. He'd beg me to let him stay home, but Mom needed him in school so she could work.
"Why does Sophia hate me?" Danny would ask, tears in his eyes. "I never did anything to her."
I tried talking to teachers, counselors, even other parents. Nobody would stand up to the principal's daughter.
Last month, things escalated.
Danny came home with a black eye, claiming he'd fallen down the stairs.
But I saw Sophia laughing with her friends by those same stairs, and I knew the truth.
"Danny, did Sophia push you?"
He nodded, too scared to say it out loud.
That's when I decided to take action.
I started following Sophia around school with my phone, hoping to catch her bullying Danny on video.
For two weeks, I got nothing. She was too smart to get caught.
But then she made a fatal mistake.
Last Friday, I was hiding around the corner when I saw Sophia approach Danny's locker during lunch.
She was holding a small plastic bag with white powder inside.
My blood ran cold. She was planting illegal substances in my brother's locker.
I started recording immediately.
But here's where Sophia's arrogance destroyed her.
She was livestreaming on Instagram while she did it.
"Watch me get the weird kid expelled," she said to her phone, not realizing her livestream was public. "Daddy will have to kick him out when they find this in his locker."
She held up the bag of what looked like controlled substances for her camera.
"This should be enough to get him arrested," she laughed, shoving it into Danny's locker.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
She was literally confessing to framing my autistic brother for possession while broadcasting it live to 50 followers.
I screen-recorded everything from my own phone.
Twenty minutes later, Principal Martinez announced a "random" locker search over the intercom.
They went straight to Danny's locker.
"What's this?" the security guard asked, pulling out the bag.
Danny started having a complete meltdown, rocking back and forth and crying.
"I don't know what that is!" he sobbed. "I never saw it before!"
"That's what they all say," Principal Martinez said coldly. "Call the police."
That's when I stepped forward.
"Actually, you should call the police," I said, pulling out my phone. "Because I have video of who really put that there."
Principal Martinez's face went white when he saw his daughter on my screen, confessing to planting substances.
But the real shock came when I showed him the Instagram livestream.
"Your daughter broadcast this to 50 people," I said. "It's already been screen-recorded and shared."
By the time school ended, the video had 15,000 views.
Sophia Martinez caught red-handed framing an autistic student for possession.
The comments were brutal.
"This girl is evil."
"How could she do this to a special needs kid?"
"Her father should be fired for covering for her."
The local news picked up the story that night.
"Principal's Daughter Caught Planting Substances on Autistic Student" was the headline.
Principal Martinez resigned in disgrace the next morning.
Sophia was expelled and charged with filing a false police report and possession.
The bag she'd planted? It was actually baking soda, but the intent was still criminal.
She lost her college acceptance and became a social media pariah overnight.
But the best part came a week later.
The new principal called me and Danny into his office.
"I want to personally apologize for what happened to you," he told Danny. "And I want you to know that bullying will never be tolerated here again."