The sound of splintering wood echoed through the house, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had fallen over the room. I felt a pang of grief as I watched the pieces of my mother's box scatter across the floor, each fragment a shard of my shattered past.
"Don't touch that!" I had shouted, my voice hoarse with emotion.
Ethan's eyes had glittered with malicious glee. "You say not to touch it? Then I'm definitely going to!" With a wicked grin, he had smashed the box onto the floor.
Crash!
The sound of breaking wood was like a gunshot in the tense silence, and I felt as if a piece of me had been torn away. The streamers, their faces alight with excitement, turned their cameras on me, capturing my anguish for their viewers.
"Look everyone! The ex-con is crying!" one of them cackled, her voice filled with scorn.
"Pfft! He doesn't deserve any sympathy," another added. "Just wait until he sees what's coming!"
I knelt there, amidst the remnants of my mother's only heirloom, my heart feeling as if it was being ripped apart. The streamers continued their cruel taunts, their words cutting through me like a knife.
"Hahaha, this is karma!" one of them laughed. "From the moment you did evil, you should have known this day would come!"
"Viewers, we're the Bad Guy Busters, here to deal with scum like this ex-con!" another proclaimed. "Now he's left with nothing but regret—but it's too late! Where were you when you were doing wrong?"
"Isn't it satisfying to see this ex-con in tears? If you think so, send us gifts—we have more entertainment coming your way!"
They reveled in their triumph, their faces glowing with the thrill of the moment. But I was no longer listening. My gaze was fixed on the broken pieces of the box, on the single photograph that had been hidden inside.
It was a picture of my mother and me, taken on a sunny day at the beach. We were both smiling, our faces bright with happiness. I could almost feel the warmth of the sun, the softness of the sand beneath my feet. I could hear my mother's laughter, see the love in her eyes.
Now, as I held that photograph, I felt a surge of anger. These people had no right to be here, to destroy the things that meant so much to me. They were nothing but vultures, feeding on the misery of others for their own gain.
I rose to my feet, my body trembling with rage. I could feel the heat of the streamers' cameras on me, but I no longer cared. Let them record this, I thought. Let the world see the truth.
"Enough," I said, my voice low and steady. The streamers fell silent, their eyes widening in surprise.
"We're done here," I continued, my gaze sweeping over each of them. "You've destroyed my home, my possessions. But you haven't touched me. Not really."
Ethan scoffed, his face twisting with contempt. "You're just a coward, hiding behind your words."
I shook my head, my eyes filled with determination. "I'm not hiding. I'm standing up for myself. For my home. For my mother's memory."
The room fell silent, the only sound the distant echo of my words. The streamers exchanged glances, their confidence wavering.
And then, just as the tension was reaching its peak, a sound cut through the silence. It was the sound of sirens, growing louder by the second.
The streamers' eyes widened in fear, their faces draining of color. They knew what was coming, and they were terrified.
I smiled, my heart filled with a sense of vindication. "It's over," I said, my voice filled with satisfaction. "The police are here."
As the sirens grew louder, the streamers began to panic. They scrambled to collect their equipment, their hands shaking with fear.
But it was too late. The police burst into the house, their faces stern and determined. They took in the scene with a single glance, their eyes hardening with anger.
"Everyone, freeze!" one of the officers shouted. The streamers froze, their faces pale with fear.
I stood there, my heart pounding with a mix of relief and triumph. I had won. I had stood up for myself, and I had won.
The streamers were handcuffed and led away, their faces filled with regret. Ethan was the last to go, his eyes filled with hatred.
"You'll pay for this," he spat, his voice filled with venom.
I met his gaze, my own eyes filled with determination. "We'll see about that."
As the last of the streamers was led away, the house fell into a heavy silence. I stood there, amidst the ruins of my home, my heart heavy with the weight of what had happened.
But even as I surveyed the damage, I knew that this wasn't the end. It was just the beginning of a new chapter in my life.