Tom was in school but not brought money. So Jack and other take him to terrace of the school. and beat him but this time Tom try to fight against them but he was weak. in detail secen with length.
Here's a detailed and intense scene of Tom being taken to the school terrace by Jack and his group, and attempting to fight back despite his weakness:
***
The school day had crawled by like a heavy storm, each passing minute weighed down by dread. Tom's stomach churned nervously—he knew he didn't have the money Jack and the others were demanding. No matter how many times he ran through excuses in his mind, none seemed good enough.
As the final bell rang, Tom tried to slip away unnoticed. But Jack and his crew were waiting, a knot of smirks and menace.
"Where's the money, Tom?" Jack's voice was cold, devoid of patience.
Tom swallowed hard. "I—I don't have it today. I'm sorry, I'll get it soon."
The jeers turned into shoves. "You think we play games? Come on, let's settle this," Jack said, grabbing Tom roughly by the arm.
They dragged him up the narrow stairwell, past empty classrooms, until they reached the rooftop terrace. The wind whipped around them, carrying the city's distant noise into the tense silence.
Jack shoved Tom to the ground. "This time, you're going to pay."
Tom's heart pounded violently, but instead of curling into himself like before, a flicker of fierce determination sparked inside him. He gritted his teeth, pulling his fists up defensively.
"You don't have to do this," he said quietly, eyes blazing despite the fear. "I'm not just a punching bag."
Jack laughed harshly. "Cute. Let's see how long that fire lasts."
The first punch landed in Tom's ribs, the air knocked out of him, but he pushed back. He swung weakly, connecting with one of the bullies' arms, surprising both himself and them.
The fight was uneven; Tom was smaller, weaker, his body still bruised from before. But he fought with everything he had—desperation lending strength to his limbs.
Blows rained down, leaving stinging welts across his face and body, yet Tom kept rising, refusing to give in completely.
Eventually, Jack grabbed him roughly again. "Enough. Remember, next time you better bring the money—or worse is waiting."
Panting and trembling, Tom struggled to his feet. The bruises stung, the pain threatened to swallow him, but something inside him had shifted.
He wasn't just a victim anymore—not entirely.
Arjun sat back in his chair, fingers poised over the keyboard. The quiet hum of the room was broken only by the soft tapping of keys as words flowed onto the screen.
He typed steadily, weaving the harrowing tale of a boy caught in the cruelty of his peers.
{A boy was beaten by Jack and his gang because he didn't bring money. The next day, again unable to pay, they humiliated him in front of the whole class—forcing him to stand undressed while laughter echoed all around. Desperate and broken, the boy attempted suicide.}
Arjun's fingers paused above the keyboard. He leaned back, hands behind his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"This story... it's perfect," he murmured to himself. "Starts with the victim—shows the darkness before the hero even enters."
His eyes sparkled with excitement as he imagined the narrative unfolding. "This will hook readers right from the start. The pain, the struggle—it makes the hero's journey even more compelling."
He chuckled softly, the thrill of creation flooding through him. "Yeah, this one's going to hit hard," he said, already picturing the fans pouring in, the emotional impact sinking deep.
Arjun glanced at the clock. Night was turning into early dawn, but he didn't regret a moment spent crafting these chapters. With renewed energy, he turned back to the screen, ready to breathe life into the next part of the story.
The bell rang, signaling the end of another exhausting day. Tom Saviour's heart sank as he felt the cold weight of dread settle again—he hadn't brought the money. No matter how he planned or hoped, it simply wasn't there.
As he tried to quietly gather his things, the inevitable happened. Jack and his gang intercepted him near the classroom door, their faces twisted with cruel amusement.
"Tom, where's the money?" Jack demanded, voice sharp and unforgiving.
Tom swallowed thickly. "I don't have it. I'm sorry, I'll get it tomorrow, I swear."
"Tomorrow's too late," one of the gang sneered. "You know what happens when you don't pay up."
Before Tom could respond, the gang grabbed him roughly, dragging him toward the center of the classroom. A crowd of students quickly gathered, whispers turning to laughter as Jack's gang pushed Tom down and began beating him mercilessly.
Pain exploded across Tom's body—his ribs, already bruised, throbbed in agony, fists striking his back and arms. He fought weakly, but the blows were relentless.
Then, the worst humiliation came.
"Strip him," Jack ordered with a wicked grin.
The gang tore at Tom's shirt and jacket, pulling them off despite his protests and pleas. Students gasped, some jeering, others frozen in shock.
Even worse, Tom caught the horrified yet mocking eyes of his crush—her laughter cutting deeper than the punches.
"Look at you," she giggled cruelly. "What a loser."
Tom's face burned hotter than the pain on his skin. Tears stung his eyes, but instead of breaking down, he wrenched free from their grip and bolted up the stairs.
He reached the school terrace, breath ragged, legs trembling. Below, laughter echoed faintly—mocking, merciless.
Tom pressed his back against the cold wall, heart pounding. The world spun, the pain and humiliation twisting inside him like a storm.
"They don't care," he whispered to himself, barely holding back sobs. "They don't care about me at all."
The laughter floated up again, louder this time, ringing in his ears.
Unable to bear it any longer, Tom took a step toward the edge of the rooftop. The city stretched out far below—a dizzying, endless fall.
"No more," he thought, vision blurring with tears. "No more pain."
In a heartbeat, he leapt.
Gasps erupted from the crowd that had gathered on the ground below. Someone shouted, "He jumped! Somebody call an ambulance!"
Students rushed forward, phones out, panic and chaos erupting as teachers and staff arrived.
"Stay calm! Help is on the way!" a teacher called out, kneeling next to Tom's unconscious form.
The laughter had faded into silence, replaced by stunned whispers and fear.
The sleek car sped smoothly along the highway, city lights blurring past as Arjun Singh sat quietly, fingers resting lightly on his lap. Today was important—his meeting with the owner of one of the largest international publishing houses was a milestone in his career.
But as the car's engine hummed softly, Arjun's mind wandered to something he never imagined: marriage.
"He's going to marry his only granddaughter to me," Arjun thought, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "I'll finally have a family... someone who belongs to me."
He looked out the window, the cityscape dancing in his eyes. "It feels... strange. Happy, but uncertain. Whatever happens next, I'm ready," he muttered quietly.
Suddenly, the car jolted violently, tires screeching on the wet road. Arjun's grip tightened instinctively as the vehicle spun out of control.
"Watch out!" the driver yelled, swerving desperately to regain control.
The car collided with a barrier, the impact harsh and unforgiving. Glass shattered, metal groaned.
Arjun was thrown forward, his body slamming against the dashboard before the car came to a shaky halt.
Outside, distant voices pierced the night.
"Someone call an ambulance! He's hurt badly!" a bystander shouted urgently.
Another voice responded, steady and calm. "Hang on, we're coming. Stay with him."
The heavy sense of shock hung in the air as people rushed to the crashed vehicle. Arjun's eyes fluttered open, blurred shapes and voices swirling around him.
"Where... am I?" he whispered, pain radiating through his body.
The crowd worked quickly, lifting debris and making space as paramedics arrived with flashing lights and medical equipment.
"Sir, can you hear me?" a paramedic asked, voice gentle but firm. "We're here to help."
Arjun tried to respond, thoughts scattered but a flicker of hope rising. The unexpected journey ahead had just taken a sudden, harrowing turn.