They say that children raised by their parents wouldn't do such terrible things. That's why those people kept pointing at me, calling me trash back then.
But what did they actually do? Could their actions even be called 'good deeds'?
"Why are you glaring at us, you bastard?"
A stinging heat spread across my cheek. A very familiar salty taste suddenly filled my mouth—a result of being wounded there so often.
The questions they asked while hitting me weren't meant to be answered. They were only for their own twisted amusement.
Forget about glaring at them; I didn't even want to lift my head to look at these people. What would I get anyway, other than blow after blow, if I did that?
"Babe, he's looking at my thighs!"
I shook my head violently. No. I didn't do that at all.
I admit the woman standing next to the jerk hitting me was sexy. However, she was one of my bullies. What part of that would make me ever want to look at her?
"It seems this loser really doesn't know his place, huh! Did my slap just now feel like nothing?" he asked, laughing.
Suddenly, the air around me was filled with the same mocking laughter. The crowd's laughter gave support to the man who had just slapped me, as well as the girl who accused me of leering at her.
"Honey, teach him another lesson!" The girl clung possessively to the shoulder of the man who hit me. Perhaps she thought what she was doing was charming.
"No. I wasn't looking at her!" I denied in a hoarse voice. And I truly hated how desperate my voice sounded right now.
"So, are you saying my girlfriend isn't sexy at all?"
Ah, right. Anything I said was meaningless. These people didn't care about my words at all. To them, I was nothing more than entertainment for their day.
My brain began chanting the mantra that had kept me from feeling too much pain all this time. Ignore it. Don't care. Don't think about it. Whatever you do won't change a thing.
"Hand me that!" I didn't know what the man who slapped me was asking for next.
More accurately, I didn't care.
"Why are you actually doing this? I've been living like a dead animal all this time."
It was a piece of wood, quite large—about the size of a wrist. The man swung the wood over his shoulder. He didn't immediately answer my question.
"You're right. You've been doing very well. There's nothing wrong with what you've done."
I gasped upon hearing that. "Then why? Why are you doing this to me?"
"Your very existence is annoying. How can a disgusting creature like you even breathe? Your mistake is that you were born into this world."
My tears flowed as I heard those words.
The man raised the wood he had been swinging high into the air and then brought it down toward me.
***
(Radio voice) The body of a 17-year-old teenager has been found in an abandoned building on the outskirts of City X. The estimated time of death was about a week ago. Looking at the wounds on the body, it is suspected that the teenager died due to repeated physical abuse. A single blow to the neck was the cause of death.
Currently, the teenager's body is at the hospital, waiting for the family to identify..."