TRIGGER WARNING: This isn't a BL story and it's not a romance. Although the book touches on relationships between boys, they aren't romantic. I want you to keep that in mind. The book touches on , rape, toxic relationships, violence,sexual assault, victim blaming, manipulation, gaslighting, trauma,suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, alcohol abuse, drugs (drugs abuse), addiction, death, murder, homophobia, blood, self-harm, and depression. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please proceed with caution.

I would also like to add that I am not romanticizing any of the above, and there will be nothing of the sort in this book. It is not intended to be titillating, but rather terrifying.

Thank you for your attention.

\*\*\*

It was slowly getting dark outside.

On the news, they kept reporting about the extreme heat that would soon visit us, making it harder to hide even under our own shadow, let alone any other.

I was seven years old and sitting at a small table in a studio apartment located next to a train station.

From the kitchen, I could smell the unbearable odor of food I didn't like. I couldn't complain though, because I knew that other people would give anything for even a piece of what I had.

Mom brought dinner for both of us. For dinner, there was rice with chicken — I wasn't fond of the dish, although we had been eating it every day ever since Mom became obsessed with Asian cuisine.

"In China, this could be called chao-fan, meaning fried rice with meat, but I also found another name — niu rou fan, which means rice with beef," Mom said, reading from a guidebook.

"Which one is tastier?" I asked.

Mom pointed to the chao fan.

"I'm not a big fan of beef; rice with chicken tastes better even flavor-wise.

Beef is stronger and a bit sweeter compared to chicken. Though it has a lot of advantages — it has more iron, which I personally miss," she said, flipping to the next page of the guidebook, where her eyes landed on Qipao.

A tight, silk dress in a deep red color. It was decorated with delicate embroidery of golden flowers. The fabric hugged the silhouette softly, and a high slit on the side gracefully revealed the thigh with every step. The collar reached up to the chin, and small silk-loop buttons ran diagonally across the shoulder.

"Look, this is a Qipao."

"What's that?"

I brought the guidebook closer. My eyes landed on the dress. It looked very lavish and elegant, probably worn for special occasions.

Before I knew it, she was already holding a second guidebook, this time about Japan.

"Mom…" I started — "How do you say rice with beef in Japanese?"

She tore her eyes away from the book. The corners of her lips lifted as if she were proud that I asked.

"Let me think... Gyūdon. And why are you asking?"

I looked at her with no expression on my face.

"I'm curious."

"Do you want to ask anything else?"

Interesting. I lifted my hand to my chin, pretending comically as if I was really thinking, although from the start I already knew what I wanted to ask.

"How do you say 'I like rice with beef' in Japanese?"

Mom was stunned for a second. She mimicked me, but in an even more exaggerated, funny way. I laughed.

"Gyuuniku gohan suki."

"Gyuuniku gohan suki,"

I repeated after Mom.

Once again, I laughed, showing everything I had in my mouth.

"Don't laugh while you're eating."

"Why?"

"It's rude. Remember that."

I will remember it for years to come.

After eating, we lay down in bed and fell asleep.

Back then I didn't even think about what would happen in my future.

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS episode contains sexual assault, if you are sensitive to this topic, please read with caution.

When I was thirteen, my mom found a better job, and we moved to a town called Willow Hollow.

I didn't have many friends; I couldn't fit in anywhere — all I felt was emptiness.

It irritated me that everyone my age seemed to have so many friends while I didn't. That's when I started to feel like I was different.

The loneliness began to wear me down, and I started having suicidal thoughts. Honestly, the loneliness was more overwhelming than the thoughts themselves.

Not long after, my mom got sick, and I had to skip school so she could get better.

"Mom, I'm going to the store — do you want anything?" I asked.

That question seemed unreal to her because she never let me go to the store alone. She was always worried something might happen to me.

On my way to the store, I saw a group of five boys around my age.

They seemed pretty cool. I wanted to talk to them, but I was scared.

So I waited, hoping they'd talk to me first.

They didn't.

***

I walked out of the store carrying two heavy bags of groceries. I had to hurry home to Mom.

What if something happened to her?

What if she fell while trying to get up?

Doesn't matter — I have to go straight home, straight home, straight home.

"Hey."

I heard a voice behind me. I turned around.

It was them.

"Who are you?" one of them asked.

I only just noticed that three of them were smoking and hiding something behind their backs.

Alcohol, I thought.

"I'm Mike," I said.

They looked at me in silence.

"I'm Joshua," one of them finally said, then pointed at the others. "That's James, Jeremy, Malachi, and Ryan."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

Ryan started laughing quietly.

Malachi elbowed him to make him stop.

"Wanna smoke?" Joshua asked.

"I don't smoke," I replied.

"Come on, never tried it? Just have one."

I felt a knot in my stomach.

I had never smoked before — what if they laughed at me?

What if they didn't want to be my friends after that?

He handed me a cigarette. I took a small drag, careful not to inhale too much so I wouldn't choke.At first, I thought I could hold back the cough — but not for long.

I started coughing loudly, tears streaming from my eyes.

They started laughing.

Loudly.

What now? What could I do?

"Don't worry, this is just the beginning. You'll see."

They were right.

They weren't wrong.

Soon came the name-calling, and then they started bullying me.

They did whatever they wanted with me.

I wasn't an assertive person, and I never will be. I didn't know how to stand up for myself, and they treated me like garbage.

***

I was eighteen years old, and they found a new way to humiliate and use me.

They started forcing me into things I didn't want to agree to. They ignored my "no," ignored my tears. For them, it was "just a game." For me – a nightmare.

"Take it in your mouth," Joshua said aggressively. I was most afraid of him. He's taller, stronger than me, and I wouldn't be able to get away, even with the other four friends standing behind him watching me.

"Did I say something?" he hissed. I stared at the ground. My hands were heavy, my throat tight, as if my body knew what was about to happen. He knew it too.

He knew I was scared

“Just no teeth," he said.

He grabbed my head and started moving it. I couldn't breathe. I felt humiliation and fear that wouldn't go away. I was crying. My whole body was paralyzed. My heart was beating faster and faster, the world was blurring. I wanted it to be over, to go home, to be let go, to be allowed to leave. I was afraid that if I made another move they didn't like, they'd beat me to death.

Tears welled up in my eyes, then one by one they ran down my cheeks.

"Will you be good?" he asked. I just nodded. Behind me, I heard laughter. Long, endless laughter that played in my ears like music.

"Will you try to fight again?"

I shook my head.

He pressed me harder.

"No," I whispered.

I'm no longer human. They made me forget what it means to be human. How to live like a human.

I'm... nothing.

I tried to raise my hands, but it did no good, I felt powerless.

"I can't hear you, fuck!" he yelled. That's it. He pushed me hard onto the ground.

I spat out what was left in my mouth. Sick. I tried to swallow saliva, but I couldn't because of the pain in my throat, and I started crying louder.

I looked at Malachi, who was drinking yet another beer, and at James, who smiled at me. He walked up to me.

And I just stopped feeling anything.

I feel dirty.

Time has slowed down, leaving me numb. The only thing I can think about is taking a shower and taking care of Mom. It's been five years, and she hasn't gotten better. She's worse.

She was fired from her job. The whole family

turned their backs on her — and on me.

She stopped eating, stopped drinking water. I'm trying to force her to do both, because I don't want her to die. She's the only person still with me… right?

"Malachai, drive this bitch home," James said with a laugh.

"What am I, a taxi?" he snapped. "Find someone else to be your chauffeur."

"You're the only one who drove here, so as a good friend, you should take him back," James pushed.

"Maybe he should just walk," Ryan chimed in.

The four of them exchanged glances. James flicked a cigarette butt at me and they all walked out, leaving me alone in some abandoned house. They hang out here most of the time—except Jeremy.

Jeremy doesn't know the whole truth about what they do to me. He thinks they just call me names or sometimes hit me—but not hard.

But I feel like… he knows. Either he's trying to erase it from his mind, pretending it isn't happening, or maybe... maybe he knows and simply doesn't care.

"Wait, I left my jacket!" James called out.

He stepped back through the broken door and looked at me.

He wasn't laughing like before. He looked... down. But why?

He picked up his jacket and kept staring at me.

I felt anxious, afraid that he didn't come back just for the jacket—maybe he came to do it again.

But I was wrong.

After a long moment, he left me there, alone in the dark.

\*\*\*

"Quiet and sit down!" the teacher shouted.

I was sitting in the front row by the window, watching what was happening outside.

We were on the top floor — the only interesting part of class.

The lesson itself didn't interest me at all.

A voice from the back pulled me out of my daze:

"Hey M, get on your knees like last time!"

I froze.

Were they talking about me?

Was that directed at me?

No — they couldn't have said that.

THEY DIDN'T!

My leg went numb. I couldn't move.

"Shut up!" Ryan yelled.

The teacher turned from the board, and the class went silent.

"You think this is funny?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"No, sir," we all answered in unison.

"Then you'll all stay after class and clean up the mess you've made."

"Why all of us?!" the girl next to me spoke up. "It's always the ones in the back who cause trouble!"

The room fell silent again. You could hear the ticking of the clock hanging above the door.

"Fine. The entire back row stays and cleans everything."

Joshua slammed his hand on the desk. It had a heavy sound, like someone chopping wood with an axe.

"It's Malachai's fault!" he shouted angrily.

"Mine?! What are you talking about?!"

"Enough! You're staying, end of discussion!" the teacher snapped.

After class, everyone left. I was gathering my stuff when suddenly—

Someone grabbed me by the neck from behind, spun me around, and shoved me into the wall.

A hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing tightly.

It was James.

"What did you tell her?"

I had no idea what he was talking about.

He tightened his grip.

"Speak, motherfucker — what did you tell her?!”