"Why did you submerge Mike's books in the toilet?"
Mrs. Chen, the principal of Brighton High School, inquired of Kyle, who was seated across the table from her.
Kyle remained silent throughout the interrogation, lowering his head to evade Mrs. Chen's gaze.
"Respond to me, Kyle. Why did you do it?"
Mrs. Chen's voice rose in anger as she pressed for an answer.
"I had no choice,"
Kyle murmured softly in response.
"Who made you do it?"
Mrs. Chen continued, posing another question.
At that moment, Kyle hesitated, fearing that if he revealed the truth to Mrs. Chen, he would face repercussions from those who influenced him.
Noticing Kyle's reluctance to cooperate, Mrs. Chen rose from her office chair, walked to a nearby cabinet, and retrieved a folder before returning to her seat.
"This folder contains your exam and test results. What's documented here clearly shows you are an academically gifted student,"
she informed Kyle, crossing her legs.
"Consistent A's with no Bs at all; such an impressive record holds great potential for your future. However, all this could be at risk if I decide to expel you and withhold your results,"
she cautioned him.
Upon hearing this, Kyle's eyes widened in shock as he lifted his head to stare at Mrs. Chen. Securing a prosperous future had been the driving force behind his hard work to achieve those grades.
Even though life had tried to steer him away from his aspirations, he valued his achievements and could not afford to lose everything he had earned so easily.
"Yes, there is a chance of expulsion for breaching a student's educational record, but you could possibly receive forgiveness if you comply," Mrs. Chen explained.
"You're a good kid, Kyle. I hope you grasp the seriousness of what I'm saying," she added.
Feeling a sense of desperation, Kyle bowed his head again but eventually spoke up.
"Chris, Chris Roland made me do it," he admitted to Mrs. Chen.
"Chris Roland, the one from the track and field team?" she asked.
"Yes," Kyle confirmed.
"Alright, thank you for your honesty. You can leave now," Mrs. Chen said, elegantly gesturing toward the door.
Kyle stood up and exited the office as Mrs. Chen instructed someone to summon Chris Roland.
A few moments later, Kyle reached the entrance of his classroom, accompanied by the lady Mrs. Chen had tasked with calling Chris.
"Chris Roland? Your presence is requested at the principal's office," the lady announced just as Kyle entered the classroom, making his way to his desk with his head lowered.
Noticing Kyle's arrival alongside the woman, Chris Roland quickly grasped the situation and shot Kyle an irritated glare.
"I'll be there shortly," Chris replied, rising from his seat as he prepared to head to Mrs. Chen's office, continuing to cast a disapproving look at Kyle, who was now seated with his head down.
"I bet he's guilty of something, and now he's pulling Chris into it—how disgraceful," one student murmured to another quietly.
It was exactly 4 PM, signaling the end of the school day, and students had started to leave the school grounds.
Kyle, too, was departing, walking directly to the bus stop to catch a ride home. After arriving at the bus stop, he waited for about a minute, but no bus appeared.
"Hey, you worthless piece of trash," a male voice called out from behind him.
Recognizing the voice, Kyle turned slowly, anxious that he might be imagining it. However, dread washed over him upon seeing Chris Roland and his crew advancing toward him once more. Fear gripped Kyle to the point that he felt immobilized.
"Looks like you've grown some guts to snitch on me," Chris sneered, delivering a powerful punch to Kyle's stomach that knocked him to his knees.
"I'm sorry," Kyle managed to utter from his position on the ground, still reeling from the blow.
"Sorry won't suffice; it's time for a lesson," Chris shot back, grabbing Kyle by the hair.
Simultaneously, his four followers seized Kyle's arms and legs, dragging him to a secluded corner while Chris scanned the area for any witnesses.
Once they reached a spot hidden from view, they each pulled out their belts and started to whip Kyle with them as Chris lit a cigarette and observed with amusement.
They lashed at Kyle with the metal ends of their belts for roughly five minutes until Chris commanded the group to cease.
By this point, Kyle was covered in injuries and bruises.
"Did you think you could outsmart me?" Chris said, bending down to Kyle's level.
"Even though we share a class, we are not equals; a person lacking stability should be smart enough to realize that," Chris taunted.
"Seems like this jerk has forgotten who you are and the privilege your family holds in resolving trivial matters like these," one of Chris's accomplices commented.
"People like this will never truly grasp what you're trying to express," one of Chris's lackeys remarked.
"Ugh," Chris responded with irritation. "Listen here, trash—unlike me, you'll never amount to anything in this world. Trying to get someone of my caliber expelled is a futile effort," he snarled, discarding his cigarette.
"Haven't you caught on at all? You attempted to alert the authorities about me, but that backfired. Now you think a simple principal can do a better job? That's utterly ridiculous," Chris said, directing his words at Kyle once again.
For a brief moment, silence enveloped them as Chris looked down on Kyle with contempt. Just then, Chris's phone rang, interrupting the stillness. He glanced at the screen and saw that it was Jane, his girlfriend, calling.
"I think you should just eliminate him; no one would notice if he disappeared," one of Chris's friends suggested.
"Nah, even death wouldn't bother with a loser like this. Let's just leave him here; we have more important matters to attend to," Chris replied, turning away and departing with his entourage.
Once more, Kyle found himself sprawled on the ground, this time marked with cuts and bruises. He remained there for several minutes before slowly sitting up and reflecting on Chris's words.
Perhaps death truly had no interest in him; after all, it had claimed only his parents while sparing him, possibly a reflection of all the suffering he had endured. The thought struck him as amusing, and he started to laugh uncontrollably.
"Haha, so that's how it is," he chuckled aloud, still seated on the ground.
"Death doesn't want me, and life doesn't care for me, so this is my reality," he muttered to himself again.
His laughter continued for about a minute before he fell quiet. Raising his gaze to the sky, he yelled out,
"You're up there doing nothing! If you won't change my life, then I'll do it myself," he shouted angrily at the bright expanse above.
"Give me what's rightfully mine and let me chart my own course," he cried once more before falling silent again.
"Who am I fooling? God doesn't exist," he said in a calm tone.
"It's pointless to say all this to someone who isn't even real," he remarked, finally rising to his feet painfully, picking up his bag, and walking straight home.