The slap cracked across my face like a gunshot.
I didn't even see it coming.
One second, I was standing there, fists clenched, defending myself, the next, my head snapped sideways, my vision flashing white.
The taste of blood filled my mouth before I registered the pain.
"You… bastard!" My father's voice was raw, trembling with fury.
His hand was still raised, like he wanted to hit me again.
I wiped my lip, staring at the red smeared across my fingers.
This wasn't just anger. This was hatred. And I hadn't even done anything wrong.
"I didn't do it," I spat. My voice sounded foreign, too raw, too desperate.
"Then who did?" His finger jabbed at me like an accusation. "The documents are gone. The security footage shows you in my office. And now you're going to lie to my face?"
Behind him, my stepbrother smirked. Just for a second, just long enough for me to see.
They set me up.
"It was them!" I shouted, pointing at the direction where my stepmother, and stepsiblings were. "They stole the company papers! I saw them, the video is—"
"Liar!" My father's roar cut me off. His hand struck again, harder this time.
The first slap didn't hurt. Not really.
It was the second one that split my lip.
I hit the ground, my ears ringing.
I looked at their direction, my stepsister, fake tears in her eyes, clutching her chest like I had wounded her, whispered.
"Why would you accuse us… after everything we've done for you?"
Her voice was poison wrapped in silk.
Stepbrother's eyes burned into mine, righteous fury etched across his face.
"What did we ever do to you!" he repeated, louder this time, his voice echoing through the room like a death sentence.
"You liars!" I roared, my voice raw with frustration. "Damn human scums!"
My father gaze hardened. He turned toward them first, and I thought, Finally, he sees it.
But I was wrong.
His burning stare swung back to me, angrier than ever.
My father actually believed them, over me.
It was fake. All of it. Obvious. Painfully obvious. Even a blind man could see it, hear it, feel it. But my father? In this moment, he wasn't just blind. He was gone.
"Is this how you treat your family?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.
"Family? Them?" I repeated, disgust dripping from every syllable. "I'd rather die than accept them as my family."
The moment the words left my lips, I knew I'd crossed a line I couldn't step back from.
"You… brat!", My father growled, as he marched toward me, his hand raised in attempt to hit me again.
But he stopped mid air, and after a brief pause, he said.
"Leave. Get out of this house!"
His words struck me harder than the slaps.
I knew my father didn't like me or my mother before she passed away that much, he only cared about my mother wealth, but telling me to leave the house... was something else entirely.
How was I supposed to leave? How am I going to survive?
My father turned his back at me, marking that his decision was final.
He really wanted me to leave.
I tried move towards him, to beg him, to ask for forgiveness, but before i could act, my stepbrother suddenly stepped in front of me.
He grabbed my collar, jerking me upward like I was nothing but a rag doll.
"Didn't you hear what dad said" he said, looking right into my eye. "Get out!"
And then the fist came.
One.
My head snapped back, pain exploding behind my eyes.
"You aren't needed here, you thief!"
Two.
My vision blurred. My body limp.
"You liar!"
Three.
My world became fists and pain and the bitter taste of blood in my mouth.
I couldn't fight back.
I couldn't even lift my arms.
Shock paralyzed me.
I never expected this outcome.
Not like this.
I thought it was bad before.
The accusations. The hatred. The coldness in my father's eyes.
But this... This was beyond everything.
Eventually, my stepbrother dragged me across the cold, hard floor like I weighed nothing.
My body screamed in pain, but my mind... my mind was numb.
I had lost. Not just the argument. Not just my home. I had lost everything.
The front door loomed before me, cold and final like the gates of some cruel prison.
My stepbrother yanked me upright, his face inches from mine.
I could feel his breath, could smell the satisfaction in it.
He leaned closer to my ear, his voice low and triumphant.
"Goodbye, brother," he whispered. "Have a nice trip in hell."
And with that, he hurled me outside like trash.
The world spun as my body hit the ground with a sickening thud.
Pain shot through every bone, every nerve.
For a second, I thought I'd shattered into pieces.
He was strong. Stronger than me.
That's what it meant to be awakened in this world.
And me?
I hadn't awakened yet. I was powerless.
I coughed hard, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth, trickling down my chin.
Through the haze, I looked back toward the house.
The front door was still slightly ajar, and there... I saw it.
His grin. Cold. Mocking. Triumphant.
And then he turned away and slammed the door shut.
Ever since my mom died I was alone, but now I was truly alone.
I pulled myself up, my body screaming with every movement.
My hands trembled as I wiped the blood from my lips.
I looked around.
The night air was cold against my bruised skin, the streets empty, silent witnesses to my fall.
I stared up at the dark sky. No stars. No moonlight. Just darkness.
And for the first time in my life, I realized something terrifying.
I had nowhere to go. No one to turn to. No home to return to.
"...Where should I go?" I whispered to myself, the words barely carried by the wind.
But there was no answer. Just silence. And in that silence, I understood, this was my life now.
Broken. Betrayed. Abandoned. Alone.