𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

"Why did you hate your mother so much?" I asked, curious to know more about Daijon's past.

"The reason I resented her so much was because I realized how much she had missed out on my life. Not being there for me when I truly needed her hurt me deeply. It was like I was abandoned by someone who was supposed to protect me, and that feeling of abandonment was unbearable. I hoped I would never experience that feeling again," Daijon explained, looking down at his hands.

I listened intently as Daijon continued to tell me his story. "Hours had gone by, and I was sitting alone in the cafeteria. I didn't really have any friends because I was still being picked on for the bruises on my skin. I also didn't have my 'glow up' like the other kids in my grade. Another reason was that people started to catch on to my sexuality. They found out that I was gay because some guys walked up to me and taunted me with one of those 'Gay son or Thot daughter' jokes. But I didn't let them get to me. Instead, I replied that I was gay and kept it pushing.

Damn.

"I was basically a social outcast my entire life. My father encouraged me to fight back against the bullies, threatening to send them same men who used to beat me over again if I didn't. But I despised violence. I knew what my father was capable of doing to someone, and I didn't want to be like him. Even when my father would sic those men on me, I never fought back. I only knew how to take a punch," Daijon continued, his voice filled with sadness and pain.

I could see the hurt in Daijon's eyes as he spoke, and I felt deeply sorry for him. It was clear that he had been through a lot of pain and trauma in his life. It also had me speechless. The only thing I could do was keep listening to his story, hoping that it would bring him some comfort to make him think that someone was there to listen to him.

/ 𝘿𝙖𝙞𝙟𝙤𝙣 /

A year had passed, and now I was 14 years old. Every day, I went to the gym, working tirelessly to strengthen both my body and mind. On weekdays, I spent time with my father, learning his weaknesses and devising a plan to finally be free of him. However, I knew I had to wait for the right moment to act.

In the meantime, my father's friends continued to bully me, questioning whether I would ever fight back. Finally, the day arrived when I could take them on, and I managed to knock down all four of them.

My father watched from a distance, his face twisted into a smirk as he slowly clapped. "After all these years, you're finally showing some backbone," he said. "Now you just need to stand up to those bullies at school."

My father was so proud of me at that moment. He knew it was special to see his son become the person he was meant to be. And the best part was that I didn't even see it.

"You know, popz, I don't consider any of those people at school bullies," I said, tilting my head and balling my fist up as I looked my father in the eye with pure hatred. "They're all irrelevant to me. The only bully I've ever really had in my life was you."