Part 1Mom’s Two Children

For a year, I endured the bullying of the school’s alpha, Lucas Rothwell.

When my head was viciously held underwater in the grimy sink, his face would twist into a mask of savage satisfaction. I never understood why he targeted me.

Until that day, when in my struggle, I tore the chain of his cherished pocket watch. The photo inside—a picture of my mother and him—revealed the truth. He was my older half-brother. The son my mother had, in her deepest disappointment, given up. He bullied me because he hated me.

That night, returning home, I no longer hid my bruises. When my mother asked, her voice laced with concern, I burst into tears. "Mom, someone at school is bullying me. Will you stand up for me?"

* * *

Ding-a-ling—

The sound of the dismissal bell sent a shiver through my body. The moment my teacher left the classroom, I snatched my backpack and bolted. But I was caught at the bottom of the academic building.

A few slacker guys saw me, their eyes lighting up. "Lucas was right! The little wretch was trying to run!"

I was trembling all over, instinctively turning to escape. But as I spun, a strong hand grabbed my collar. I caught a faint scent of cigarette smoke from him… It was Lucas. The ringleader of the year-long torment I'd endured.

This is it, a wave of despair washed over me.

Soon, I was dragged between them, up to the top floor. This floor had no classrooms, only an abandoned restroom. This was their "sanctuary," where they terrorized me with impunity. I never understood why, out of so many students, Lucas had singled me out.

This secondary school had both a middle school and a high school section. I was just starting seventh grade, while he was already a junior. I couldn’t fathom why someone as ordinary as me could evoke such intense hatred in him. From the very first day I enrolled, he had appeared in my line of sight. He just stood there, outside my classroom, watching me with eyes like a viper, fixed on its delectable prey… When he bullied me, his face would sometimes contort into a grimace of twisted pleasure.

Bang—

I was shoved violently into the restroom. My body slammed against the dilapidated door, my arm aching.

"Didn't we tell you to come up here on your own after school?" A boy raised his hand and slapped the back of my head. "What the hell are you running for?" Seeing my silence, he slapped my face again. These were Lucas's hangers-on, his "enforcers."

I clenched my fists, struggling to speak. "Today is my mom's birthday. I want to go home and celebrate with her." I was so terrified that I didn't notice Lucas, who had been leaning against the wall with an impassive face, suddenly darken at my words.

He strode over quickly, roughly pushing aside the boy in front of me. Lucas was tall and strong. He grabbed my collar, forcing me to stand on tiptoes to look at him.

"What do you think you are…?" Lucas gritted his teeth, his eyes twitching slightly, his breathing unsteady, as if he was struggling to contain something. Before I could grasp the reason for his sudden outburst, he hauled me to the sink. The water in the basin was filthy and foul, probably unchanged for centuries. Lucas, without the slightest hesitation, slammed my head into the water.

A suffocating sensation overwhelmed me, and I thrashed wildly. I had a terrifying feeling Lucas truly wanted to kill me… Why? My hands flailed incessantly, trying to grasp anything I could. In my struggle, my hand caught on Lucas’s clothes, my fingers snagging the chain around his neck.

"You little bitch! Let go!" Someone pulled my hands away, but the chain snapped, too. The metallic clink echoed as it hit the ground. Lucas seemed to snap out of a trance, abruptly letting go.

Exhausted, I collapsed to the floor, gasping for fresh air. When I came to my senses, I saw Lucas, uncharacteristically, scrambling on the ground, searching for something. His expression was panicked, his hands even trembling slightly. "Where is it? Where is it?!" he roared. "Find it for me, damn it!"

His stunned cronies quickly snapped to attention and began searching on the floor. Watching their unusual behavior, my fingers curled slightly, accidentally brushing against something. I glanced down. It was a delicate pocket watch, broken open. Inside, was an old, somewhat blurry photograph.

But my pupils dilated in shock, because I recognized the person in the picture. My mom…

Before I could get a closer look, Lucas snatched the watch. He held it carefully, rubbing it repeatedly with his designer clothes, treating it like a precious treasure.

"It's broken, the watch is broken," he mumbled, almost obsessively, then turned and quickly walked out.

"Lucas," a boy asked uncertainly, "what about this wretch?"

"Whatever!" Lucas was fixated on the watch. "I need to get this watch fixed. Don't bother me unless it's urgent!"