"Open this goddam door you motherfucker! You still owe us! If you don't pay your debt this last of November, then pray to your god, because consider your manhood gone by this hand!"
A loud banging echoed through the thin walls of the house. Each sound of the fist hitting against the door made it shake as if it would break any second.
"Responded you little shit! And by the way, clean your fucking house, man, it stinks here!" the black man shouted again, his voice filled with disgust.
The noise spread across the neighborhood, drawing attention very fast.
At first, it was just a few people lingering by their gates watching, pretending not to hear it. Then the murmuring began.
"Is that… coming from That PLACE?"
"I think so."
A woman stepped closer, arms folded tightly. "What's going on?"
A man near the corner leaned in slightly. "Debt collectors, maybe. Heard he's been borrowing money."
"Not surprised," another replied. "After everything…"
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"…You mean the case?"
The word hung in the air.
___
Across the street, an older woman shook her head slowly.
"I told you something was off about that boy," she muttered. "He is too quiet. Always avoiding people."
"That doesn't mean anything," a younger voice cut in. "He was cleared, wasn't he?"
"Cleared doesn't mean innocent," the older woman snapped back. "People like that always find a way. Especially if they are influential and rich like his"
A few nodded.
Not because they were sure.
But because it sounded convincing.
"Still…" another man added, scratching his chin, "the girl's name is Rachel, right? She seemed a nice girl."
"Yeah," someone agreed quickly. "I remember when she cried during that whole thing… no way that was fake."
"Exactly."
That was how it worked.
Not facts. But their impression on the boy.
_____
A teenager, half-hidden behind a gate, whispered to his friend, "My brother said that guy threatened people online."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Said he had pictures of his girlfriend and other girls' nude pictures, and he threatened to post them."
The friend's expression shifted instantly. "That's messed up… but how did he get their nude pic?"
"My Brother said he doesn't know, but my theory is that he stalks them and then somehow takes a picture if they are changing clothes at the girls' locker room."
Neither of them knew if it was true.
But it didn't matter anymore
As the crowd grows louder. The sound reached the black tattoo man, making the man notice and then curse under his breath because the neighbors had seen him. Making him go away immediately.
-----
As the footsteps eventually faded. Someone chuckles in the dark room.
"Hehehe, I hope my debt will be cleared with this, right, Rachel?"
Inside the room, someone was sitting in a chair. That's when we finally see our protagonist.
A messy black-haired boy, sunken eyes that look like he has not slept for a few days, and pale skin that looks like he is sick. And a bruise lingered on his cheek, and the most important detail was that he was wearing a birthday hat.
He sat on the edge, staring at multiple headless bodies around the table and the girl bloody who looked like she was crying.
"Please just spare me! I would do everything you ask me for! Just please spare me!"
Shouted the girl
"You know, no matter how much you begged, no matter how many lies you tell me again... "
The boy closed in on her face
"It all dont matter now."
As the boy said it, the face of the girl slowly turned burned, and her body was replaced by a stick upon which her head was impaled. As if the girl being alive was all but a dilution. As he remembered this, he quietly said.
"Right... I killed that bitch hehehe... Man, I must be going crazy if I still remember her words... still thou. How did it all come to this, Rachel…?"
---
Pov - Protagonist
It wasn't always like this.
He remembered her.
Rachel.
We met on a normal day. She goes near me and has a chat with me, saying I was smart and interesting. I know that she may have other motives when she approaches me because it's impossible that a beautiful girl like her would find me interesting. But as we continue to talk somehow, someway, something clicks for us. And before I knew it, we were already in a relationship.
As days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Our relationship blooms.
We laughed together. Ate together. Talked about dreams and the future.
Our chemistry felt real.
Or at least… that's what I believed.
---
After months had passed, I slowly felt we were drifting apart. Because whenever I am talking, she is always on her phone chatting with someone. Of course, I asked her who she was texting, but like always, I believed her words. She said it's her cousin from Texas. Even though it felt suspicious, I did not even doubt about it, because I firmly believed that our chemistry together would always be forever...
----
Then came that NIGHT.
"Rachel I have to go," I said, grabbing my jacket. "Mom… she was in a coma. I need to go to the hospital"
Rachel looked concerned. Too concerned. She did not even look up from her phone.
"Go. I'll be here, I just finished my project, then I will also go to see my mother-in-law," she said softly.
I left thinking that she must be busy... Oh, how naive I was...
---
But I should have known that fate had other plans.
I returned earlier than expected. I was tired and despairing, It is because I received the news that my mom has only 2 months left to live. As I go near my home. I noticed the door was slightly open. Then I heard someone.
Voices and Moans.
My heart dropped.
Slowly… I pushed the door.
And there it was.
Rachel.
With multiple strangers.
Their bodies tangled. Their faces are close to each other.
And then something slowly breaks.
---
I didn't even remember how I reacted.
But I remembered the pain.
The shouting.
And then—
Darkness.
---
When I woke up, my body ached.
Bruised. Beaten.
Rachel stood there, arms crossed, eyes cold.
"Rachel... Why? I trusted you! I thought you loved me... Rachel, tell me... did I do something wrong? Is our love even real... "
I said weakly
"I never love you" she said flatly.
"I really tried to make it work! " Rachel said in a sad tone, her face twisting to the face of a victim. "But every minute with you is like hell, I feel like I've been forced to act like your sweet little girl. Like eww if only I could undo all the time with you together then I wish I had done it, but luckily I have this Man's behind me to help get rid of your pathetic self"
She said with a disgusted face
"Then, Rachel, why did you approach me? If you are disgusted with me?"
"What I needed…" Rachel puts her hands at her chin, in a thinking pose." Well, just like what I said, you are interesting," she said, eying the television behind me with an innocent smile.
"But turns out you are just a boring nerd... Right boys?"
The boys laughed behind her and agreed.
"But looks like the cat is out of the bag, ain't that right?"
She said with a soft smile. Like every time I talk to her. As they leave me. Rachel approaches me and whispers something in my ears
"Oh keep it a secret about this. You should know what will happen if you do? Right?"
She leaves and then spat at my face, as I watch them go. I was left in a daze at what happened to me.
---
Something inside me again broke that day.
But not completely.
Not yet.
---
He fought back the only way he knew how.
A lawsuit.
Against Rachel.
Against the boys.
He wanted justice.
Even if it is petty like trespassing at the house and them beating him up, he wanted their face to be filled with regret.
---
Pov - Protagonist
Location - Court Room
The room felt too small.
Too many eyes.
Too many whispers.
I stood near the front, hands clenched at his sides, trying to steady his breathing. The air felt thick—like something was about to collapse.
Rachel stood across from him.
Quiet.
Still.
Then—
She started crying.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
The kind of crying that pulls attention.
"I…" her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to say anything…"
The room shifted.
People leaned in.
I frowned. "Rachel… what are you—"
"He forced me."
Silence.
It didn't land at first.
Not fully.
"…What?" I said, the word barely forming.
Rachel covered her face, shoulders shaking. "He forced me… he said if I told anyone, he'd ruin me…"
A murmur spread instantly.
"What the hell…?"
"No way…"
I shook my head, stepping forward. "That's not true."
No one looked at him.
They were all looking at her.
"I tried to leave," Rachel continued, voice trembling perfectly, "but he kept threatening me… he said he'd leak pictures of me being nude "
"That's a lie!" My voice cracked this time. "You're lying! I don't even have that kind of photo!"
A chair scraped loudly.
One of the boys stepped forward.
"Watch your tone," he snapped.
I stared at him. "You were there. You know what happened."
The boy laughed.
"Yeah," he said. "I do."
A pause.
Then
"He's been harassing her and other girls for months."
The words hit harder than anything else.
I blinked bewildered at the accusations.
"…What?"
Another voice joined in.
"I've seen the messages."
"That's not—"
"He's obsessed with her."
"Dangerous, honestly."
The room was no longer neutral.
It was shifting.
Away from him.
Fast.
"No…" I looked around desperately. "You all know me."
No one answered.
Rachel sobbed harder.
"I just wanted it to stop…"
And that was it.
That was the moment.
Not when she spoke—
But when everyone else believed her.
My voice dropped.
"…Rachel."
She didn't look at him.
"…Why?"
For a split second—
Her crying stopped.
Just slightly.
Enough for him to see it.
A smirk at the corner of her mouth and it disappeared like it was not there.
Then it came back stronger.
"I was scared…" she whispered.
And just like that—
He was alone.
---
I was cleared.
His father hired influencial lawyer who handled everything. Pointing out the lies they said and saying the evidence does not pile up.
The case collapsed.
He walked free.
---
But freedom didn't mean peace.
Months passed.
The whispers never stopped.
"That's him."
"The rapist."
"The abuser."
"He got away because their family has a connection."
Every street.
Every corner.
Every stare.
---
Pov- unknown
Location - Office Room
The office smelled like paper and coffee.
Stacks of case files sat neatly arranged across the desk, each one labeled and organized.
Unlike everything else in Mart's life.
His father sat behind the desk, glasses low on his nose, flipping through documents.
" Dad you should be resting," I muttered, leaning against the doorframe.
His father didn't look up. "And you should stop worrying about things you can't control."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
A small pause.
Then his father sighed and set the papers down, finally looking at him.
"You've lost weight."
I shrugged. "At least my baby face is gone ."
"That's not something to be proud of."
"Yes, it is, maybe someone will come to me because not only my parents are loaded with cash, but because I am handsome, maybe this time they will stay with me!"
Silence settled between them— the air between them is uncomfortable.
His father studied him for a moment.
"They're still spreading the rumour, aren't they?"
I didn't answer. For my silent answer to his question.
His father nodded slowly. "People like simple stories. It's easier than thinking."
I let out a quiet breath. "Even after the case… it doesn't matter."
"No," his father said calmly. "It doesn't."
I frowned at his response. "Then what was the point?"
His father leaned back slightly, folding his hands.
"The point wasn't them."
A beat.
"It was you."
I looked up.
"You stood your ground," his father continued. "You didn't run. You didn't break at their attempt to ruin you; you firmly face them head-on. That's what matter"
I looked away, my jaw tightening because of anger rising. "It doesn't feel like it matters. If even my friends are talking about it behind my back"
Father reached out for his coffee "Well, then that means they aren't your friends to begin with"
"BUT IT'S NOT FAIR, WHY WOULD EASILY BELIEVE HER THAN ME? WH-" a hand touches my shoulder. Making me stop at my shouting, and as I looked up eye to eye with my father.
"That's because you're expecting the world to be fair."
A faint, tired smile crossed his father's face.
"It isn't."
Another silence filled the room.
"Dad…" Mart hesitated. "If… if things get worse…"
His father's gaze sharpened slightly.
"They won't."
"But if they do—"
"They won't," he repeated, firmer now.
Then his tone softened.
"I'm here."
That was it.
A Simple word.
But it reassured me that my dad, is still behind my back
"I'll handle it."
For the first time in weeks—
I felt like he could breathe.
---
It happened on an ordinary day.
No warning.
No buildup.
Just—
A phone call.
I stared at the screen as it rang.
Unknown number.
He almost didn't answer.
"…Hello?"
"Is this the son of Mr.James?"
A man's voice. Professional. Detached.
"Yes?"
"There's been an accident."
The words felt distant.
Like they weren't meant for him.
"Your father was involved in a collision… a truck—"
Everything after that blurred.
---
The hospital hallway was too bright.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
I stood there, unmoving, as the doctor spoke.
"We did everything we could."
A sentence people say when there's nothing left to do.
---
He was allowed to see the body.
He almost said no.
But his feet moved anyway.
---
The room was cold.
His father looked… smaller.
Still.
Unnaturally still.
I stepped closer.
Slowly.
Like if he moved too fast, something would break.
"…Dad?"
No response.
Of course not.
His hands trembled slightly as he reached out—
Then stopped.
Just before touching him.
"You said you'd handle it."
A weak laugh escaped him.
"How about me and Mom, Dad?"
My question was answered with silence.
I swallowed hard. My Tears ready to spill on my face.
"…You said you would be here."
The words cracked.
Just slightly.
For a long moment—
He just stood there.
Waiting.
For something.
Anything.
But nothing came.
---
The house felt different.
Too quiet. Not peaceful— just Empty.
The office remained untouched.
Files sare till stacked together.
Glasses still resting on the desk.
As if he had just stepped out—
And would return any second.
---
I stood in the doorway, staring.
"…You said you'd handle it."
The words sounded smaller now.
Meaningless.
---
The phone rang.
Again.
Debt.
Bills.
Hospital payments.
Reality didn't wait for me to grieve.
---
After Dad died, everything fell apart.
Hospital bills piled up for his mother.
I was still a student.
No income.
No support.
And all of his inheritance has gone to hospital bills.
So he did the only thing he could.
He borrowed money.
From banks.
From people he shouldn't have.
From the mafia.
---
Debt chained him tighter than any prison.
And still…
It wasn't enough.
---
His mother died. He cried, but there was no way by his side anymore to comfort him, no one to say he did a good job getting a high grade. All of them are gone.
Leaving him completely alone in this world.
---
Days late after the funeral
They came.
Rachel.
And the boys.
Standing in front of his house like vultures.
"Still alive?" one of them mocked.
"You don't deserve to be," Rachel added with a smirk.
"Why don't you just disappear already? Just like your parents hahaha"
Their laughter echoed in my mind.
Again.
Again.
Again.
---
Something inside Mart finally snapped.
Completely.
---
That night—
Silence returned to the neighborhood.
But not the peaceful kind.
---
One by one…
They disappeared.
The boys.
Rachel.
Gone.
---
I stood in the darkness, hands trembling.
Breathing heavily.
Eyes empty.
No anger left.
No pain.
Just… nothing.
---
He looked up at the headless corpse in front of him.
For the first time in a long time.
And thought—
"It's my birthday tonight huh…"
---
Then another thought followed.
"Lets celebrate it..."
---
"Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday dear... Happy birthday to ME"
And for the first time, Mart smiled.
Not out of happiness.
But because there was nothing left to feel.
*FLASHBACK END*
---