Suddenly, the harsh ringing of a phone cut through the silence around me. Its shrill sound made me flinch, still lying there on the floor, my body aching and my head pounding. The hallway felt distant, as if the noise came from another world.
With trembling hands, I reached out for the phone, my curiosity mixing with caution. Who could be calling me at a time like this? My heart pounded, each ring echoing the tiny spark of determination I had just ignited within myself.
Stranger: "Are you Darren Watkins?"
Darren: "Ye…yes… and who are you?"
Stranger: "It is sad to say, but your mother is no more in this world."
Darren: "Wh…what?!" I shouted, panic and disbelief flooding through me.
Stranger: "Your whole house is on fire. From what we can tell… your mother has been assaulted."
My world shattered in an instant. The ground seemed to tilt beneath me, my chest tightening as screams of pain, anger, and helplessness welled up inside. Tears blurred my vision, but beneath the shock, a burning, uncontrollable rage began to rise. Everything I had been afraid of, everything I had endured, now demanded retribution.
I bolted, my legs pumping like they had a life of their own, driven by panic and a raw, unthinking rage. The streets blurred around me as I ran faster than I ever had.
When I finally reached my home, the sight that greeted me froze my entire being. My mother's corpse lay sprawled across the floor, partially naked, her body covered in blood that dripped from every wound. The stench of smoke and burnt wood filled the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.
Shock anchored me in place. My mind screamed, but my body refused to move. Tears didn't come — only numb horror. I couldn't process it. The woman who had sacrificed everything for me, who had struggled and fought to keep us alive… she was gone. And I… I was powerless to stop any of it.
A huge crowd had gathered around the smoldering remains of my home, their whispers and shocked murmurs blending with the wail of sirens. Police officers moved through the chaos, trying to maintain order, but none of it reached me.
Overwhelmed by grief and rage, tears finally poured down my face uncontrollably. My hands shook as I lunged forward and grabbed the collar of the nearest officer.
Darren: "Hey! Tell me… tell me who did this to my mother!"
My voice cracked, blending agony and fury into a single, raw scream. My chest heaved violently as I stared into the officer's eyes, desperate for answers, desperate for someone to direct the storm of anger and pain consuming me.
Before I could react, the officer's hand came up and slapped me across the face. Pain exploded, and my head snapped to the side, spinning with shock and humiliation. My tears mixed with blood from the stinging slap, but my anger only deepened.
I stumbled backward, clutching my face, my voice trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. The crowd around me murmured, some whispering in surprise, others turning away uncomfortably.
Even as the world pressed down on me, a single thought burned brighter than the pain: I cannot stay weak. I will not let this injustice define me.