I'll make his life a living hell

Liam’s POV:

I pushed the door open to my house, the familiar smell of wood polish and faint cigarette smoke hitting me. My father was in the living room, seated in his usual spot—a large armchair positioned like a throne. He didn’t even glance up from his newspaper as I walked in.

“Good evening, Dad,” I greeted, keeping my voice low.

He didn’t respond. My chest tightened. I knew better than to think silence meant peace in this house. I tried to sneak past him, but his sharp voice stopped me in my tracks.

“What did you get on your last test?”

My heart sank. My hands started to sweat. I turned to face him, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I...I haven’t gotten it back yet,” I lied, my voice shaking.

He lowered the newspaper slowly, his cold eyes locking onto mine. “Don’t lie to me, boy. Bring it out. Now.”

I hesitated, gripping the strap of my bag tightly. My legs felt like they were made of lead as I took slow steps toward him. My mind raced, trying to think of an excuse, but I knew nothing would work.

Before I could reach him, my mother appeared from the kitchen. Her face was pale, her hands wiping nervously on her apron. “Let him rest, Henry,” she said softly. “He just got home from school.”

“He doesn’t get to rest until he shows me his test,” my father snapped, his voice loud enough to make me flinch.

“But—”

Before she could finish, his hand shot out, striking her across the face. The sound of the slap echoed in the room, and she stumbled back, crashing into the wall.

“Mom!” I shouted, dropping my bag and rushing to her side. “Are you okay?”

She held her cheek, tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced a weak smile. “I’m fine,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just do what he says, Liam.”

I clenched my fists, my whole body shaking with anger and fear. Slowly, I pulled the test paper from my bag and handed it to him.

He snatched it out of my hand and scanned it. His face twisted with disgust as he crumpled the paper in his fist. “Eighty-four?” he spat. “Is this a joke? Who got the highest score in your class?”

I didn’t answer.

“Answer me!” he shouted, grabbing the collar of my shirt and pulling me closer.

I stammered, “I...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” he mocked, his grip tightening. “I pay for your school, your books, your food, and this is how you repay me? With failure?”

Before I could respond, he dragged me down the hallway. My mother ran after us, begging him to stop. “Please, Henry! Don’t do this! He’s just a boy!”

He ignored her, shoving me into the small storage room at the back of the house. The walls were bare, the air stale and suffocating. He grabbed a belt from a hook on the wall, and I felt my stomach drop.

“Dad, please—”

The first strike landed across my back, and I screamed. The pain was sharp, burning, and relentless. He kept going, his words blending with my cries.

“You think you can embarrass me?”

Another strike.

“You think you can be lazy?”

Another.

“You’re worthless!”

My mother was banging on the door, her sobs mixing with my screams. “Henry, stop it! You’re hurting him! Please!”

When he finally stopped, I collapsed onto the floor, my body trembling, my breaths shallow. He opened the door, pushing my mother aside as he stormed out. She rushed to me, tears streaming down her face as she knelt beside me.

“Liam,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

I pulled away from her touch, the pain in my body nothing compared to the anger burning inside me. “Leave me alone,” I muttered, my voice hoarse.

“Liam, please—”

“I said leave me alone!” I shouted, forcing myself to stand. My legs wobbled, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of that house.

I stumbled out the door, the cold night air hitting my face like a slap. My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes, but I wiped them away angrily. I didn’t want to cry. Crying was weak.

My father’s voice still echoed in my head. “You’re worthless.”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I hated him. I hated this house. I hated my life.

My mind drifted to what had happened at school earlier with Jayden. His strength, the way he had humiliated me in front of everyone—it made my blood boil. He had no right to treat me like that. No one did.

I walked aimlessly, my body aching with every step. The streets were quiet, the occasional car passing by. I thought about going to the park, maybe sitting on the swings like I used to when I was a kid. But even that felt pointless.

Then, a thought crept into my mind. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I'll see Jayden again. He thought he was strong, but I’d show him. I’d show him that no one could mess with me.

I gritted my teeth, my jaw tightening as the anger swirled inside me. Jayden would pay. He’d regret ever crossing me.

The night grew colder, but I didn’t care. My mind was set, my heart filled with rage. Tomorrow, everything will change.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

I hated my life and everything, outside I was the King of the school but indoor, I was just a kid who is very fragile and might break anytime soon.

I clenched my hands tightly together, as the memories of my friends laughing at me flooded my head.

“How can that nerdy boy beat you? Seriously!” Their words kept echoing in my head.

“Shit!” I yelled grabbing a bottle beside me, shattering it, that it even pierced me, I was bleeding now.

“I swear, I'll make his life a living hell.”