Eliott had been feeling on the edge of the abyss for months. The beatings, the mockery, the humiliations—all of it weighed heavily on his shoulders. His dreams of architecture, of building something beautiful and lasting, seemed to crumble more and more each day under the cruel laughter of Marc and his friends. They were everywhere, constantly tearing him down, reminding him of his insignificance in a school ruled only by the powerful. He clung to the hope that something might change. Maybe a miracle. Maybe outside help. But that day, in the classroom, he realized nothing was going to come. No plan, no escape. Just an open chasm in front of him.
Marc, followed by his two sidekicks, walked into the room after the bell rang. Eliott was already seated at his desk, head bowed, lost in his thoughts. He didn't even notice them coming in. Everything seemed blurry, as if he were living in a stifling bubble of silence.
"Look who we have here," Marc sneered, a mocking grin spreading across his face. "Our dear little rat pretending not to see us."
Eliott remained still. His hands trembled slightly, but he hid them under the desk. He felt Marc's presence drawing closer but didn't have the strength to react. Everything he had tried up until now had failed. Talking to the teachers? Ignored. Complaining to the administration? Useless. His friends had distanced themselves out of fear of becoming the next targets. Even at home, he hadn't dared to tell his parents everything, not wanting to burden them further with their already overwhelming struggles.
Marc leaned closer, his cruel smile growing wider as he prepared to deliver yet another blow—this one verbal.
"Not saying anything, Eliott?" Marc murmured, leaning on the edge of the desk. "Still just as pathetic, huh?"
Eliott clenched his fists under the desk. He wanted to scream, to fight back, but he felt paralyzed. What was the point? His punches had never landed, neither his words nor his attempts at defense. He had never been able to fight back.
Seeing no reaction, Marc grinned maliciously. He leaned closer to Eliott's ear, his voice turning into an icy whisper.
"You know," he began, "I heard your restaurant's rent is overdue. Would be a shame if something... bad happened. Like, I don't know, a little visit. A raid at your place."
He paused, savoring the power of his words.
"Imagine it. All your hard work... destroyed. Your family ruined for good."
That was the breaking point. Eliott felt something inside him snap. It was as if a barrier he had built to protect himself, to maintain control, had just shattered into a thousand pieces. All the humiliations, all the insults, all the blows had fed a silent rage he had been bottling up for months. But now, there was no holding it back.
His fingers clenched around the compass in his pencil case. Without thinking, he grabbed it with trembling hands, fueled by anger and despair. He wanted to hurt Marc, to make him feel even a fraction of the suffering he had inflicted.
In one swift, violent motion, Eliott stood up and drove the compass toward Marc, aiming for his face, his neck—anywhere that could inflict real pain.
But Marc, acting on instinct, narrowly dodged the strike. The compass's point grazed his cheek, leaving a thin red line that immediately began to bleed. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and fury.
"!?"
The classroom fell silent. Eliott's classmates, initially stunned, stared at the scene, frozen in place. The world seemed to stop.
Marc touched his cheek, his fingers coming away smeared with blood. His shock turned into cold, visceral anger, and he exploded.
"You little shit!" he roared, lunging at Eliott.
The blows rained down, brutal and relentless. Each punch was accompanied by insults, mockery, and threats. Marc, consumed by rage, struck without mercy, his friends joining in. Eliott, on the ground, tried to shield himself, but it was useless. Each hit reverberated through his body, clouding his thoughts.
Laughter echoed around him, voices rising, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Just for an instant—a fleeting second—he caught sight of Kai's gaze fixed on him. His body was a battlefield, his mind a storm of pain.
He wanted to scream, to fight back, but he no longer had the strength. He was at his limit. Everything in him screamed for release, for an end to this unending suffering.
"You tried to kill me?!" Marc shouted, his voice shaking with fury. "I'll make you regret it, you worthless piece of shit!"
After long minutes of violence, Marc finally stopped, panting. He leaned over Eliott, who lay motionless on the floor, covered in bruises and blood.
"This isn't over, Eliott. I've got more planned for you. We'll take care of your family too."
With one last kick to Eliott's ribs, Marc stepped back, leaving him to writhe on the floor. Under the watchful eyes of his classmates, who still didn't dare to intervene, Eliott lay motionless, tears streaming down his face as he gasped for air.
"I've had enough!"
With a resolve he didn't know he possessed, Eliott began to rise, slowly but determinedly. Every movement was a trial of pain. His aching muscles, his battered ribs—his entire body protested against his efforts. Yet, he stood, staggering, using the wall for support.
"I've had enough!"
He wiped the blood from his face, the sweat from his brow. He was nearly unconscious from the pain, focused solely on the goal he had set for himself. Despite his injuries, he staggered toward the door, then made his way to the staircase leading to the roof. Every step was a battle, but he couldn't stop now.
"I've had enough!"
At last, he reached the roof. The fresh air, the open view—it felt both soothing and disorienting after the chaos he had just endured. Eliott walked to the edge, looking down at the city below, his heart heavy and his breath shallow. He wondered if he would have the courage to make the leap, to escape the existence he could no longer bear.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"
Marc's words still echoed in his mind, a haunting chorus of threat and cruelty. Eliott felt lost, overwhelmed by a wave of conflicting emotions. He stood at the edge, every second feeling suspended in time.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"