Catfished by Her Own Mother: The Haunting Story of Unknown Number

From anonymous texts to a mother’s betrayal, this is the documentary that will make you question trust itself.

Netflix’s Unknown Number: The High School Catfish, directed by the master of chilling true crime storytelling, Skye Borgman, hit the platform on 29 August 2025 and immediately sent viewers spiraling into a storm of emotions. This isn’t just another true-crime documentary — it’s a haunting dive into betrayal, technology, and the fragile psychology of trust.

The film begins with Lauryn and Owen, a young Michigan couple just trying to navigate high school life and teenage love. Their innocence is soon shattered when they begin receiving anonymous texts and blocked calls. At first, it feels like a cruel prank, the kind of thing teenagers have always done to needle and embarrass one another. But what starts as unsettling messages quickly morphs into a relentless campaign of harassment that consumes their every waking moment. The unknown number wasn’t just a nuisance — it was an ever-present shadow.

As the threats escalate, so does the tension, not just for Lauryn and Owen but for their families and community. Borgman carefully builds this pressure, pulling viewers into the claustrophobic panic of not knowing who to trust, not knowing when the next message will land, and not knowing if safety even exists anymore. For anyone who’s ever been bullied, the emotional sting feels eerily familiar. But here, it’s multiplied by the digital age — bullying that doesn’t switch off when the school bell rings, bullying that follows you into your bedroom through the very phone in your hand.

This is where Unknown Number hits harder than most crime documentaries: it forces us to confront how cyberbullying became an epidemic at the turn of the century. Once playground taunts and hallway whispers, bullying has evolved into something insidious, invisible, and inescapable. Technology promised connection, but it also created new avenues for cruelty, loopholes for manipulation, and platforms where anonymity breeds boldness. Lauryn’s torment is not just her story — it’s a reflection of what so many teens and adults alike have faced in silence.

And then comes the gut-wrenching twist. The faceless tormentor, the ghost behind the blocked number, wasn’t a stranger at all. It was Lauryn’s own mother. That revelation stops you cold. The one person who should have been her shield, her safe place, was the one orchestrating her deepest wounds. It’s a betrayal so staggering that it forces us to rethink not just the dangers of the digital age, but the dangers of misplaced trust within the very walls meant to keep us safe.

By the end of Unknown Number: The High School Catfish, you’re left with a knot in your stomach — not just from Lauryn’s story, but from the realization of how many others have suffered similar fates. It’s a reminder that cruelty, whether digital or personal, leaves scars that ripple far beyond the moment. Borgman doesn’t just want you to watch; she wants you to feel the weight of it.

For those who finish this documentary and are left craving more of Borgman’s unique ability to blend empathy with shock, Netflix offers a slate of equally gripping titles. The Girl in the Picture will leave you shaken by a decades-long web of lies and abuse. American Murder: The Family Next Door provides an unfiltered look at betrayal within the confines of family. The Tinder Swindler exposes how charm and technology can be weaponized to destroy lives. Together, these stories underline a universal truth: deception and cruelty, whether from a stranger or someone close, are among the most terrifying human experiences.

Unknown Number isn’t just a documentary. It’s a warning, a mirror, and a gut-punch reminder that sometimes the monsters we fear aren’t hiding in the dark — they’re the ones holding our hand.