Ayah For The Ruthless

On my 12th birthday, my skin burned and my head was hit on the chair. Blood dripped down my body as my vision was blurry. Another hit on my stomach made me throw up all that I had eaten after two days. 

The hot coal from the fireplace was tapped to both of my hands as my body was thrown on the ground. I only heard the sound of laughter from my classmates. I could not see anything 

They broke my glasses. 

“Ayah, baby, you need some water to cool down your arms, don’t you?” Another round of laughter resonated in the gym as hot, burning water was thrown at me. 

I screamed with the only energy I had left in me. 

Someone grabbed my chin and made me look up. “Be grateful for the water, friend.” She said and smirked. 

“Monster,” I whispered. 

For the next 30 minutes, they all thrashed and beat me for saying that one word. 

I lay there, almost lifeless on the ground of the gym after their entertainment with me had finally ended. There was a rule. I wasn’t allowed to faint no matter what. I didn’t know how I could control that but when I did fainted sometimes, their torture was worse. 

I was prey for these bullies. Not a single person said a word against them because who’d want to be their target? Even the teachers couldn’t be spared. 

After being able to crawl to the washroom, I sat under the shower for as long as I could. 

I came outside. 

I tried to get out of the school but they were still outside. Bracing myself, I went to the rooftop and decided to wait until I couldn’t hear the sound of their laughter anymore. 

I sat on the edge of the railing. I was a girl born in the year when my parents expected nothing but the money of drugs in their life. After I was born they had to stop their business which didn’t settle well for my father. It resulted in him beating me and my mom day and night for the smallest inconvenience in the household. 

I laugh at the face of despair. This was my life and I was scared to die but the idea of it always thrilled me. So I always went on the verge of death. I sat on the railing, was fearless of heights, and stopped walking in front of buses and trucks until they came down yelling at me. 

I looked up at the sky. 

“Dying looks easier, doesn’t it?” A deep voice said from beside me. 

Shocked, I looked beside me. A boy almost a few years older than me was sitting beside me. He had eyes so deep and inky that they looked lifeless, just like mine. He had ash-colored hair and he had this unseen shadow cast over his face. 

I nodded. 

“The stars look so much better than this world.” He said.

“You won’t be able to live there,” I replied. 

We sat in silence. 

After a while, he said, “It is painful to look at you.” 

I smiled a little. “My scars are always worse for people to see.”

“Worse for you to feel.” He said. 

“You don’t have to worry, I don’t even know you,” I said looking at him. 

He smiled as if he could light up the sky. “You are beautiful that is why it’s painful to look at you.”

I looked at him. “How can my scars be beautiful?”

“They’re ugly.” He said. His fingers brushed one of my scars. “Beneath lies a beauty.”

I bore my eyes into his. “Who are you?”

“Elio Ford.” He said casually. 

Ford. An expensive surname for people living in America. The company of EastHolders was owned by the Fords. It was a name to fear but also a name that people craved. 

I nodded. “You are not supposed to be here,” I said. Though it was none of my concern I was a bit curious. A billionaire heir was sitting beside me. 

“I know, but I loved being on the verge of death.” He said as if reflecting my feelings. 

I was a bit taken aback by his words. He sounded like a poet and I least expected it coming from a billionaire. I must not emphasize the word but it was not a big deal for me. 

We sat in silence. The conversation that was initiated a few moments ago disappeared into thin air. I was a bit embarrassed. I felt inferior sitting next to him. 

He shuffled out a packet from his pocket. In, there was a diamond ring inside it. He shoved it in my direction. I looked down at the packet and looked at him. 

“Keep it,” He said not even looking at me. 

“Why should I keep it?” I asked. If it was a present of some sort, I doubt I was close to a boy I met a few minutes ago. 

“I give it to you. Do whatever you want with it.” He said. “My mother, she is afraid that I will kill her. That’s why she gave me her ring as a promise that she won’t meddle in life ever again.”

I didn’t know if this boy was lying or not but the tone of his voice– so calm, it made me terrified. If he was saying the truth then I must not be here. 

“Why would you kill your mother?” I asked disbelief in my voice. 

He smiled calmly. “Because I just came back from killing my father.” He shuffled his hand and bought a knife in front of me, dripping in blood. Besides the knife, he held a gift box where he had a head of a man stored. 

I gagged and held my mouth in utter shock.

His eyes swore me cruelty. He was mocking me. I came down from the railing and ran away from the rooftop. My body was shaking. I was unable to think clearly. What did I just witness?

I didn’t care about my bullies at the door. I opened the main gate and ran outside but I stopped. My eyes popped out of my socket. 

They were all dead. In front of me. Their throats were sliced and they were lying in a pool of blood. I was frozen in my spot. Unable to move.

A hand gripped my waist and I was pulled back. My eyes were covered with a hand. 

As Elio Ford, the boy I met a few minutes ago, spoke “If you cannot look at it. I must not show it to you, beautiful.”