Tiger cracked his knuckles, walking calmly. "Oh, don't leave me hanging here. I've been itching for a fight." Jackson's brother took a step back, fear creeping into his eyes, and dashed towards Tiger. Tiger leaned away, setting his foot in front of him, and sent the boy tumbling to the ground. Tiger squatted down, grabbing the boy's head by his hair. "Let me clean the mud for you," he said, bashing the boy's head into the floor three times. Blood splattered on the floor and the boy's school uniform.
Tiger stood up, turning his attention to the other two. "Killing you two doesn't have a purpose," he said, placing his bloody fist in his pocket. "But I still need to teach you this: if you cage the beast, the beast will get angry, but if a man toys with you, it's worse than death." He smiled devilishly, charging towards them. As he approached, they passed out, dropping to the floor like bags of potatoes.
Tiger placed his hand on the back of his head, wondering if he had gone too far. "Did I go too far?" he thought to himself. "Well, I really shouldn't let them die." He headed to his bag, picked up his phone, and called the hospital before leaving after packing the brothers together.
As he walked away, the sky turned gloomy, and rain began to fall. Tiger looked up, watching as the droplets washed away the bloodstains on his uniform. "You remind me of my life, but you can't wash away the past," he muttered to himself.
Tiger arrived home, opening the door as lightning flashed behind him. He saw his father, Mr. Collins, standing towards the left of the stairs, and his younger brother, Corner, standing to the right. "You were almost 19.9999 seconds late for curfew," Corner said, implying Tiger's tardiness.
"Oh, thank you, my annoying clock," Tiger replied, strengthening his gaze upon his little brother. "I didn't think you still worked after your hard-learned lesson." Corner said confidently, "You can't do anything to me now." Tiger smirked. "You're sure about that?"
Before Corner could respond, their father intervened. "Can't you greet your father?" he asked, his deep voice resonating through the hallway. Tiger's response was laced with defiance. "Oh, do you see my father anywhere? When you find him, tell me."
Tiger waved at them causally without looking at his family and headed to his room. He sat on his bed, letting out a slight sigh. "This house is a graveyard," he thought to himself. Memories of his mother flooded his mind. "When she was around, she was the sunlight who brought warmth to the house."
As he stood up to face his dressing mirror, his mother's dead body suddenly appeared, frightening him. "Revenge, avenge me, my son," the apparition said. The room began to darken, and voices echoed in Tiger's head. "No, no, no, no!" he yelled, smashing his fist into the glass. The room cleared, and Tiger fell to his knees. "Why?" Tears streamed down his face. "It should have been me in that coffin."
His palm began to bleed as his father and brother burst into the room. "Son, are you hurt?" his father asked, concern etched on his face. Tiger pushed him away, standing up to leave. He locked eyes with his father, his gaze filled with rage, sadness, emptiness, and a deep hole. "Stay away from me," Tiger said, stepping out into the rain.