I observed my shoulder-length hair in the mirror.
"I need to cut it!" In a panic, I searched for the scissors I had brought with me earlier when I entered the bathroom.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Get out, Riz! My face is already itching, I need to wash it. Get out now!" I heard Sara, my stepsister, yelling from outside the door.
"So what? I got in first, so like it or not, you have to wait until I'm done!" I deliberately raised my voice.
"Hey, don't make me report this to Daddy!" Sara's voice grew louder.
"Daddy? Who's your Daddy? That's my Daddy, you idiot. So go slap yourself awake and realize the truth." Ignoring her, I continued searching for the scissors.
Finally, I found them.
I cut my hair in a style that covered my eyes. Let no one be able to look into them.
Once I finished cutting my hair short, I stepped out of the bathroom.
Suddenly, Sara rushed toward me and slapped my face.
Smack!
"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost all respect for your sister?!" Her loud screech rang in my ears. I rubbed my ears and chuckled softly.
"Sister? Get real. You and your mother are just parasites leeching off my life. Sticking to my dad like a damn leech… Aren't you ashamed?"
I watched Sara's face turn red with rage.
"You're such a piece of shit!" She lunged at me and grabbed my neck, squeezing tightly. My breath hitched, but I only laughed harder.
My laughter seemed to infuriate her more as she tightened her grip.
"Die! Just die already!" Sara looked satisfied with her actions.
"Die? You're the one who's going to die, just wait and see..." I bit my lip hard until blue blood seeped out. My bloodied mouth licked the fluid before I spat it at Sara.
"Arghh!!" She released her grip and clutched her face, which started peeling as if it had been burned with boiling water.
I felt completely satisfied.
"You're useless!" Her screams echoed through the hall as she sobbed uncontrollably. My laughter grew even louder.
"Mama!"
"Serves you right!" I slowly stepped toward Sara, who was now sitting on the floor, crying her heart out.
"Know your place before you try to lecture me… Sister."
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around.
"Fariz!"
A sharp pain struck the back of my neck, and before I knew it, everything faded to black.
—
I woke up to a sharp, piercing sensation in my arm.
Slowly, I forced my eyes open.
My father's face came into view.
"Papa? Did you hit me?" I fired questions at him. Papa raised his hand, signaling me to be quiet.
"Why did you do that to Sara?!" His voice was firm, his gaze sharp.
"D-Do what?"
"Do what?! Her face is severely burned, like she got splashed with boiling water! You know she's your sister, right? Where's your respect as a younger sibling?!" Papa glared at me.
"Correction. Stepsister." I scoffed at the word 'sister.' I wouldn't mind calling her that if she actually acted human. But no—she was worse than a demon.
"Because of your stubbornness, you've caused so much trouble. Tomorrow, you're going to apologize to her."
My eyes widened at the command.
"Even if I die and come back to life, I will NEVER apologize to her!" I snapped, standing firm in my decision.
"Okay, if you're going to be stubborn, then I'll lock you up for a week like this." Papa smirked and crossed his arms, waiting for my response.
I looked down. My arms and legs were chained, my body sitting helplessly on the cold floor.
"I don't care. I've been through worse than this. If you want to kill me, go ahead. Mark my words!" I turned my face away, burning with hatred, pain, and disappointment at his favoritism.
"If that's what you want, I'll make it happen!" He got up and stormed out of the room.
I took a deep, shaky breath and clenched my fists. My shackled hands punched the wall repeatedly, ignoring the pain that grew sharper.
—
Sara examined her bandaged face in the mirror.
"That damn brat… If I had a knife, I would've killed you already!" She gritted her teeth. Her once-beautiful face was ruined because of her fight with her stepbrother.
"Mama!" Sara searched for her mother, who had been silent this whole time.
"Yes, dear?" Her mother closed the magazine she was reading as Sara approached her.
"Mama, what about my face? What if these scars stay forever? My beauty will be ruined!" She whined loudly, shaking her mother's arm.
"Don't worry. I asked the doctor earlier. In a week, your face will be fine and beautiful again. It's just minor burns." Madam Sari gently stroked her daughter's head.
"This is all that brat's fault! If he hadn't made me so angry, my face wouldn't be like this!" Sara clenched her fists.
"Don't worry, honey. I've already brainwashed his dad. Trust me, after this, he'll regret it and be too scared to mess with us again!" Her mother smiled widely.
Sara finally smirked in satisfaction.
—
A week had passed. I remained locked in my room, still in chains. My hands and feet were wounded from the tight restraints.
But I didn't care.
I only lived now to get revenge on my stepmother and stepsister—the ones who shattered my family, even when my real mother was still alive.
"Ughh…" I groaned softly. My stomach rumbled loudly, demanding food. I hadn't eaten in two days.
Papa had only given me food once, two days ago. He enjoyed seeing me weak and powerless like this.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
Papa stepped in, smirking. I quickly turned my face away.
"Hey, my dear son, how's it going? Enjoying your stay?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
I stayed silent, not wanting to engage.
Papa ruffled my hair before unlocking the chains from my hands and feet.
Finally, I was free again.
"If you mess up again, I won't hesitate to break your legs." He flicked my forehead and left the room.
I clenched my fists.
I had been absent from school for over a week. What would my teachers say?
This was my final year of high school—I couldn't afford to leave a bad impression.
"Forget about this. I need to relieve some stress!" I grinned in excitement. I rushed to my room, opened a drawer, and pulled out a folding knife.
•••
The gripping cold made me pull my hoodie tighter, covering my entire body. I adjusted the cap on my head.
I whistled as I walked along the sidewalk.
"Help, let me go!" A woman's voice reached my ears.
I quickly moved toward the sound. Two men were trying to snatch a woman's handbag.
I ran toward the scene.
"Sir, please help me!" The woman ran and hid behind me. I stepped forward.
The two men chuckled mockingly.
"Didn't expect a hero to step in... Stay out of this if you don't want to die!" One of them suddenly pressed a knife to my neck. I remained calm.
I took a deep breath. My eyes began to glow red. In a flash, I pressed the knife against my own neck, causing a large amount of blue blood to flow out.
The blue blood splattered onto the man's hand. He screamed in agony. His hand started burning as if it had been doused with acid.
The other man attacked, trying to stab me, but I swiftly grabbed his neck, lifting him off the ground.
He gasped for air, struggling in pain. With the knife in my hand, I gouged out his eyes. Blood gushed out. I licked his blood-covered face.
What a delight.
I stabbed the two men repeatedly until they died. Then, I licked the blood flowing from their bodies. The woman screamed in terror. I turned to her.
She stepped back, trembling.
"Who... who are you?!" She pointed a folding knife at me, taken from her handbag.
"I helped you, now you help me!" I laughed, amused by her terrified expression. I swiftly leaped forward and clawed at her body, covering her in blood. Then, I grabbed her neck tightly.
"In my world, there's no such thing as helping others..." I slit her throat, ending her life in a gruesome manner.
I grinned widely. All my stress from earlier had vanished. My heart felt light as I walked away from the scene.
••••
The next day, I went to school as usual. I walked slowly through the school gates. A few female students passing by stopped for a moment, watching me enter.
Soft giggles and flirtatious whispers echoed among them.
I laughed internally at their foolishness—thinking I was a man.
'I'm a girl, you idiot!' The words only echoed in my heart. It was impossible for anyone to know—after all, even at school, I was registered under a male name. Only Papa knew my true gender, and he was the one who forced me to wear the mask of a boy.
I ignored the flirtatious teases from the female students who grinned at me.
I glanced at my wristwatch. There were still twenty minutes before class started. Just enough time to head to the canteen for breakfast, considering I hadn't eaten at home. I couldn't be bothered to see Sara's face—who knows, I might end up gouging her eyes out instead.
I dropped my bag off in class before making my way to the canteen, which wasn't far from my classroom.
After paying for my food, I chose the most secluded table. I had no interest in dealing with the giggling girls who went crazy every time they saw me.
Just as I was enjoying my meal, a drink packet flew through the air and smacked against my head. My now-wet hair dripped as I touched it.
My eyes searched for the culprit who dared to do such a thing.
Damien, a male student, appeared with his group of friends, surrounding my table with mocking smiles.
"Do you even know what you did wrong?" he asked, placing his foot on my bench.
I glared at his face before completely ignoring him and resuming my meal.
"This brat—are you asking for it?" Damien slammed the table, causing my drink to spill. I shot him a sharp glare. Stay calm. Behave. Otherwise, this kid might just end up dead.
"Where's your mouth, huh? Why so quiet? Are you mute, idiot?!" He grabbed my collar roughly, pulling me forward.
My blood boiled even hotter at his attitude.
"Get lost if you want to live," I said in a dangerously low voice.
"Hey guys, he's threatening me! You think I'm scared of your threats?" He crossed his arms.
"What's your problem with me?!" My voice rose an octave.
"You seduced Juita, didn't you? Because of you, she broke up with me!" His eyes glared daggers at me.
"I don't have time to seduce her. If you want her, just take that cheap girl!" I shoved his hand away and went back to my interrupted meal.
Suddenly, Damien threw a punch at my face, unaware that he had just sealed his fate. The stinging pain on my cheek from his punch only fueled my rage.
My breathing turned erratic. My eyes glowed red, and in an instant, I lunged forward, delivering a punch to his face. He tried to counterattack, but I grabbed his neck, lifting him into the air before throwing him to the ground.
His friends were enraged. They all attacked at once. I fought them off relentlessly, kicking their stomachs until they collapsed, writhing in pain.
"I told you—don't mess with me if you want to live long." I smirked darkly, biting my own arm.
The blue blood from my wound dripped onto Damien and his friends.
They screamed in agony. Their hands and legs blistered and peeled as if burned by acid.
Their painful wails satisfied me. I clapped my hands together, approaching Damien before whispering in his ear.
"If you don't want your soul to die, you and your gang better scram." I flicked his forehead.
I fought against my growing bloodlust. My fingers trembled as I restrained myself from pulling the knife in my pocket.
Realizing the situation, Damien hurriedly urged his friends to leave. Struggling, they staggered away, limping in pain.
I wiped my bleeding lip from his earlier punch, inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm myself. I needed to stay composed, or I would lose control again.
"Fariz!"
I turned around.
It was Mr. Aiman, staring at me with sharp eyes. He swung the cane in his hand a few times, slicing through the air.
"You hit Damien, didn't you? Follow me!" He grabbed my collar, dragging me toward the discipline office.
"Sir, he started it!" I pried his hand off me.
"Stop, Fariz. Any explanations can be discussed in the office."
With no choice, I followed him, my steps slow and reluctant.
"Uuuu!" Teasing voices from the surrounding students filled the hallway.
"Silence!" Mr. Aiman's stern command immediately silenced everyone.
I noticed a few female students blowing me kisses and winking playfully. Disgusting.
Once inside the staffroom, Mr. Aiman wasted no time bombarding me with questions.
"Why did you hit Damien?"
"He started it. I wouldn't have touched him if he hadn't touched me first!" My answer only fueled his irritation.
"Where did he hit you?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. I pointed at my bleeding lip.
"This? That's it? Damien is way more injured than you—bruises and wounds all over." He sounded unimpressed, as if mocking me. I let out a harsh breath. His words felt like a taunt.
"So, you're saying you're the victim?" His tone was laced with sarcasm.
I nodded.
"I'm sorry, Fariz, but Damien and his friends are far more injured than you. So I doubt he was the one who picked the fight..." Mr. Aiman rubbed his temple as if thinking.
"You'll face even harsher disciplinary action if you keep refusing to admit it." He was practically coaxing me to confess. But no way in hell was I going to.
"What's the point of studying all the way to university if you can't even think critically? You're so easily deceived by what you see in front of you!" I stood up, slamming my hands on the desk.
Mr. Aiman stood as well, his breathing heavy with anger.
"Don't be rude. I'm your teacher. You'll receive the punishment you deserve." He started typing something on his phone.
"Did you leave your brain at your knees?" I deliberately provoked him. Let him feel the same burning rage that I was feeling.
"First offense—fighting and beating up students to the point of near coma. Second offense—disrespecting a teacher..." His fingers continued tapping on his phone, listing my so-called "offenses."
I was losing patience. He was giving me punishments I didn't even deserve. I inhaled and exhaled deeply. If I didn't control myself, I might end up punishing him to death instead. I immediately walked out of the discipline office without his permission.
Before anything happened, I needed to disappear from his sight. But just as I was about to leave, Mr. Aiman rushed forward and blocked my way.
"Stop, unless you want me to slap you!" His furious face glared at me.
"No way!" I shoved him aside, but he quickly grabbed my jaw firmly.
"Sit down and stay still! Is it that hard? You're not leaving until you admit what you did!" He forced me back into the chair. I growled in frustration.
"So just confess already!" He cracked his cane in the air in front of me. I scoffed, irritated.
This old man… he was starting to look really small in my eyes. Useless. A so-called discipline teacher with a brain at his knees!
"Fariz, why are you glaring at me like that? Want me to gouge your eyes out? Where's your manners? Or have you forgotten what that means? All you ever think about is fighting—if this is how you act, I guarantee you'll never succeed in life. You might even become a major criminal!"
What nonsense was he spouting? He didn't even realize he was just as bad.
I glanced at the messy state of the discipline office. Chaotic. Just like this whole situation.