Marcus was thrilled about the adoption idea he talked about it all the time, like it was already set in stone. But I wasn't sure how to feel.
Today was my first day back at school, and everything felt foreign. The halls, the classrooms, even the familiar faces it all seemed distant, like I didn't belong anymore. I missed my mom. A week had passed, but the ache in my chest hadn't lessened. I missed her voice, her laughter, the warmth she carried in every word.
Last night, I played all her WhatsApp voice notes, listening to them on repeat until my phone died. It was the only way I could feel close to her, even if just for a little while.
The Teachers gave me sympathetic look, their pity suffocating me, they gave me passes on homework and even the Math teacher didn't call me infront to solve any question. The school bullies had no such kindness. Especially Daren. He had always been a problem, but I have always ignored his remarks. This time he went to far.
During launch ,he started taunting me.
No wonder she died raising a loser like you must've been exhausting."
"You're just a stray dog now, mooching off Marcus's family. Think they actually want you?"
His words sliced through me . But that was not enough for him. He kept punched me and shoving me around like a toy while his friend laughed.
"Hey leave him alone, Daren! Why are you always troubling him?" Marcus stepped in, his voice firm, but Daren just sneered. He knew that Marcus was no match for him.
Without warning he shoved Marcus hard. he stumbled back, his foot twisted into an awkward angle before he hit the ground with an painful cry. Before I could react one of Daren friends kicked him hard.
I launged forward but Daren grabbed me, holding me in place as he laughed.
" look at you two pathetic weaklings" he sneered
I struggled with him and pleaded for them to stop but my words fell on death ears. Around us, students watched in silance, their eyes filed with unease, but none of them moved. No one wanted Daren as an enemy. His family was rich and powerful. He could do whatever he wanted and everybody knew it.
I couldn't take it anymore. Something inside me snapped.
Before I knew it, I was on top of Daren, my fists crashing down on him over and over. I didn't hear his friends yelling, didn't feel their hands pulling at me I just kept swinging, blinded by rage.
Blood smeared across my knuckles. Daren's head rolled to the side, unconscious, but I wasn't stopping. Not yet.
Suddenly, strong arms yanked me back. The world spun as teachers rushed in, their voices distant, muffled. My body felt heavy, my vision blurred.
Then darkness.
I woke up to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint hum of voices. Blinking against the harsh light, I turned my head and saw Mrs. Smith sitting on the other bed, holding Marcus in her arms. His face was covered in stitches, and the sight of it made my stomach twist.
When she noticed I was awake, our eyes met. She stood up and walked over, her expression filled with concern.
"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.
The first words that slipped past my lips were, "I'm sorry."
She didn't hesitate she pulled me into a hug, her warmth wrapping around me like a shield. "It's not your fault," she whispered. "Marcus told me everything."
I felt my throat tighten, but before I could say anything else, the nurse walked in.
"The principal wants to see you," she said, her voice neutral but firm.
I swallowed hard.
When I reached the principal's office, no one asked for my side of the story.
The principal's cold stare bore into me as he leaned forward, his hands clasped on the desk. "Do you even realize what you've done, boy?" His voice was sharp, laced with disappointment. "Not only did you attack another student, but you landed him in the hospital."
Mrs. Smith stepped forward. "At least let him explain"
But the principal ignored her. He slid a suspension letter and a disciplinary hearing notice across the desk toward me.
"You are suspended until further notice," he said. "The school board will determine whether you stay or are expelled."
Mrs. Smith's voice rose, her usual warmth replaced with frustration. "You can't do that! You didn't even hear his side of the story, and you've already decided he's guilty."
The principal's expression remained unmoved.
Mrs. Smith's face twisted in anger. "You can't accuse my son just because you failed to maintain order in your school!"
The principal shook his head. "I'm sorry, but all the evidence is against him."
He turned the screen of his laptop toward us. My stomach dropped as I watched the video play. It was a recording of the fight but everything leading up to it had been cut out. The only thing left was me, on top of Daren, throwing punches.
I barely recognized myself. My eyes pitch black, hollow, monstrous.
Mrs. Smith gasped. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The room felt suffocating.
"This is what we're dealing with, are you in drugs?" the principal said, his voice laced with finality. "You should consider yourself lucky if any school in this state accepts you after this."
He stood, walking to the door and pulling it open. "You can go now."
Mrs. Smith's hand flew to her mouth as she stared at the screen. Her face paled, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No… this this isn't right," she whispered, shaking her head.
She turned to me, searching my face like she was hoping for an explanation, something that made sense. But I had nothing. I didn't understand it either.
"Liam," she breathed, her voice softer now, almost afraid. "Your eyes… that wasn't..."
She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself, then spun toward the principal. "You're showing us a manipulated video! Where's the rest of it? Where's the part where he was being attacked?"
"This is the only footage that was turned in," the principal said flatly.
Mrs. Smith clenched her fists, her whole body trembling with frustration. "And you're just going to accept it? You're not even going to question why it's been edited?"
The principal gave her a pointed look. "It doesn't change the fact that your son beat another student unconscious. We have to consider the safety of all our students."
Mrs. Smith let out a sharp breath, struggling to hold back the fury in her voice. "You're not protecting students you're covering up the truth!"
" You could have edited the whole footage as far as I know. That isn't Liam.
She turned back to me, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly, grounding me. Her eyes, though still filled with fear, softened.
"We'll figure this out, Liam," she said firmly. "I won't let them paint you as some kind of monster."