"Come eat your dinner," Dad called from the kitchen.
I didn't answer right away. My eyes were locked on the thunderstorm blooming under my skin — a purple bruise stretched across my ribs like it had roots. I touched it gently. It throbbed. Not a sharp pain. Just… heavy. Dull. Constant. Like it was reminding me who I am.
How the hell was I supposed to hide this?
I pulled on my jacket. Zipped it all the way. It was warm in the house, but that didn't matter. The jacket wasn't fabric anymore. It was armor. Paper-thin, but still something. Something between me and the world.
When I walked into the dining room, Lyra didn't even blink. She didn't have to. She always saved her venom for the right moment. And there it was.
"Why the hell are you wearing a jacket inside, freak?"
She didn't say it with anger. She said it like she was bored. Like I wasn't a person — just a broken piece of furniture that should've been thrown out years ago. Her phone never left her hand. I barely looked at her.
"I think I caught a cold," I mumbled. Dad looked over at me for a second. His eyes narrowed. Not suspicious — just tired. Work. Life. Bills. Losing Mom. Raising two kids who couldn't be further apart. He didn't ask anything. Just turned back to his food. And I loved him for that. For not looking closer. For letting me lie.
My name's Daniel. And I'm a victim.
Not in some self-pitying way. I mean it literally. I'm the one they choose. The one who gets slammed against lockers and stripped in the bathroom. The one they laugh at when I flinch. The one they smear ketchup on just to make a point. I'm the entertainment. The default target. When someone's bored or angry, I'm the punching bag.
Second year of high school, and it feels more like a prison sentence. I only exist for jokes. For pain. For someone else's catharsis. The only people who speak to me are the other survivors — Nate, Aven, maybe one or two kids who already gave up. We're the regulars. The losers' table. The background noise.
But this weekend? Nothing happened. No spilled drinks. No bruises. No gum in my hair. It was silence. And silence felt like freedom.
I wasn't ready for Monday. So I made a decision. I picked at my food that night and said, "Dad, I don't think I can go to school tomorrow. The cold's getting worse."
He just nodded. "Alright. Rest."
That kind of trust — it hurts more than anything they've ever done to me. Because I wish I deserved it.
[The Next Day]
The quiet wrapped around me like a blanket. No yelling. No footsteps. No laughter that cut like glass. Just the fan spinning above and the faint hum of the world outside.
I didn't go to school. I stayed in bed, fully dressed, jacket still on. I watched dust float through the sunbeams like tiny ghosts. Regrets suspended in the air, waiting to settle.
It must've been lunchtime.
Someone was probably crying in a bathroom stall. Someone else getting their head shoved into a locker. Maybe it was Nate today. Maybe Aven. We take turns. That's how it works. I should've felt worse. Guilty. I did, maybe. Somewhere deep down. But that silence? It felt safe. And that safety was so rare, it felt like winning.
Let them bleed today. Let them get called names. Let someone else wear the target. Just for one day. Let it not be me. It's a pathetic kind of victory. A rotten, bitter one. But when you're drowning every day, just floating feels like flying.
Tomorrow, I'd go back. But today, I lived.
…
School was already over. House was quiet, like always. Dad wouldn't be back until late. Lyra was probably out, pretending we didn't share blood. Friends, fun, life.
And me? Just here.
I didn't have friends. Not really. The other "regulars" weren't friends — just people who sat next to me in hell. We didn't talk unless it was about homework or pain. I wanted something more. Someone to laugh with. Walk with. Buy snacks with. Feel real with.
knock knock*
I froze.
No one knocks. Not at this time when everybody's gone to work.
I crept to the door and peeked through the peephole. Delivery guy. Right — the food I ordered. I opened it, signed, nodded. Let's close the door—
"Why didn't you come to school today, Danny?"
My heart stopped.
That voice.
I tried to slam the door shut. Too slow.
SLAM
The door crashed into me. I hit the floor, wind gone from my lungs. I couldn't breathe. "Missed you at lunch," he said, voice casual like this was a game. I knew that voice. That smirk behind it.
Venny.
"Wait—PLEASE—"
CRACK
His fist went straight into my stomach. I folded like paper, coughing, gasping.
"It hurts!" I shouted. "Please, Venny, not today. I'm sick. I did everything you told me to—just—please!"
He sneered. "Begging? That's your idea of begging?"
Thud
A kick to my ribs. Stars behind my eyes. My body screamed. I dropped to my knees, arms wrapped around myself, barely breathing.
"Please… Venny… I'm begging you. Just leave me alone."
He smirked again. That twisted, snake-like grin.
"Who said I'd stop? I'm just teaching you how to beg."
He bent down, picked up the food I ordered, opened the box like it belonged to him.
"Is this yours?" he asked. Before I could answer, he flung it.
Hot curry exploded across my face.
"AAAH!"
It burned. Everything burned. My skin, my eyes, my pride. But worse than the heat was knowing this wasn't the end. He found my house. He came here. To do this. For fun. Elijah was with him. Of course he was. The first one who ever turned me into a joke. Blood spilled from my mouth. I tasted metal. I couldn't see straight.
"How'd you even find me?" I gasped. "Why…?"
Venny laughed. "Still got some fight in you. Cute."
More fists. More boots. Laughter in the air like poison.
I was a joke. A toy. A thing.
Then—another voice.
"I'm home."
Lyra.
My heart collapsed.
No. Not her. Not now.
"What will she think of me?" I couldn't breathe. What if they hurt her too? Neva was with her — Raphael's girlfriend. If she got involved...
Venny turned toward them. "Ooh? Who do we have here? You his sister?" Lyra froze. She saw me. Broken. Bleeding. She trembled. "What's your name, sweetie?" Venny asked, voice soft like he wasn't a monster.
"P-Please... spare u-us..." she whispered.
That shattered me. I'd never seen her beg. Not for me. Not ever.
"Oh don't worry," Venny smiled. "I'm not gonna hit a girl. I'm not that cruel."
I almost believed him. Then—
"I just have some unfinished business with your brother."
"Please... spare him too..." she cried. Her voice cracked.
Venny tilted his head. "Alright, alright. I'll spare him…"
Relief. Hope.
"…if you come out with us tonight. We're having a party." He winked. "Name's Venny."
My mind went blank.
No.
I knew what this was. He was using her. Playing with her.
Something inside me snapped.
I stood.
There was blood on my face and rage in my chest. Everything else vanished.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you asshole?!"
And for once... I didn't care what came next.
I was done being silent.
I was done being prey.