Cruelty - II
Subra walked through the rain, his mind blank. The world had already taken everything from him. His future. His dreams. His dignity.
His steps led him home on instinct—though "home" was a loose term. A small, rented apartment filled with people who barely acknowledged him. People who relied on him for money but never gave him so much as a kind word in return.
He opened the door, stepping inside.
His stepmother sat on the couch, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone. His brother and sister lounged nearby, watching TV. None of them looked up.
He stood there, drenched, his shoes leaving muddy footprints on the floor. Water dripped from his clothes, but no one asked where he had been or why he looked like a ghost.
It was like he didn't exist.
Finally, his stepmother spoke.
"You're back late."
That was it. That was all she had to say.
Subra clenched his jaw. Not even a 'how was your competition?'
He wanted to scream. To tell them what happened. But what was the point? He already knew how they would react.
No "Welcome home." No "What happened?" No concern.
It was as if nothing in his life had just fallen apart.
Subra clenched his fists. His voice was hoarse, drained from everything that had happened.
"I got expelled."
That got her attention.
Her eyes flicked up from her phone. Brows furrowed. Lips curled in disgust.
"What?"
Subra forced himself to stay calm. "They stole my project. They framed me. The school—" His breath hitched. "They… expelled me for plagiarism."
Silence.
Then she stood up.
And screamed.
"You stupid little shit! Are you fucking kidding me!?"
The words hit like a slap, but the real blow came when she stepped closer.
She shoved him—hard.
Subra stumbled back, but she grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. Her breath was hot, bitter with rage.
"All these years! All that fucking money we spent on you! And this is what you give us!?"
"I—"
Her grip tightened.
"What about a job!? What about our future!?" She shoved him again. "We counted on you! You selfish, useless—!"
Her voice cracked as she screamed, but it wasn't sadness. It was frustration, like a child denied a toy.
Subra's hands shook. "I—I can still try—"
"TRY!?" She laughed, short and sharp. "No company hires dropouts! No university will take you! You've ruined everything!"
And then she said it.
"You're nothing without us."
The words hit deeper than any wound.
Her children watched, unmoving. His brother smirked. His sister barely reacted.
Like they already knew this would happen. Like they had been waiting for it.
Subra swallowed hard. "I—"
"Shut the hell up."
She stormed off, slamming the door behind her.
Subra just stood there.
His world had ended, and they didn't even care.
—------------------------------
Hours passed.
He sat in his tiny room, staring at the ceiling.
His hands were numb. His mind, empty.
Then—his phone buzzed.
His heart jumped. His fingers scrambled to grab it.
A single unopened email sat at the top of his inbox. He had applied to a private scholarship weeks ago, just in case.
With a deep breath, he tapped the screen.
Congratulations, you have been selected for the final round of our scholarship program…
His heart pounded. His eyes scanned the rest of the email.
$10,000 granted upon confirmation.
Subra nearly collapsed. It was real.
Relief flooded him, so overwhelming that his vision blurred.
It wasn't much, but it was something. It was hope.
A real chance. A way out.
He wiped his eyes. He didn't even realize he'd been crying.
Without thinking, he ran to the living room.
They turned. His stepmother's face twisted into another glare—until she saw his expression.
Then her eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"I—I got a scholarship." He could barely breathe. "Ten thousand. I can still—"
Her face changed instantly.
"Oh, Subra." Her voice softened. She reached out, cupping his face.
His body stiffened.
She never touched him like this.
"You're such a smart boy," she murmured. "I knew you wouldn't let us down."
Her arms wrapped around him, warm, comforting.
But something felt… off.
Her voice was too sweet. Her grip, just a little too tight.
Subra hesitated. Something about their tone felt off. But he shoved the doubt away.
Maybe… just maybe… things will be okay.
For once, he wanted to believe things would be okay.
—------------------------------------------
Morning came.
Subra yawned, stretching as he sat up. His body still ached from yesterday's hell, but for once, there was something to look forward to.
He stepped into the living room.
Stopped.
Something was wrong.
The air felt… empty.
Subra stepped out of his room.
The apartment was… empty.
The couch. The TV.. The table.
Gone.
His breath hitched.
The kitchen drawers were open. The fridge was empty.
His hands trembled as he ran to the bedrooms.
The closets—cleaned out. The beds—stripped.
His family… was gone.
No.
No, No, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.
NOT AGAIN
He turned in circles, mind racing.
Maybe they just… went somewhere?
But then his eyes landed on the kitchen counter.
A single piece of paper sat there.
His breath caught as he picked it up.
"Don't bother looking for us. You'll figure something out. You always do."
The paper crumpled in his grip.
His legs gave out.
He sank to the floor.
It didn't make sense. It couldn't make sense.
He did everything for them. He sacrificed everything.
They wouldn't just… leave.
Would they?
His vision blurred. His body shook.
They were gone.
They never cared.
He was just a wallet to them.
A useless, empty wallet.
Subra let out a sound—something between a gasp and a sob.
His mind spiraled.
Had he ever meant anything to them?
Did they ever love him?
His hands clawed at his hair. His breathing turned ragged.
He needed to stop thinking. He needed to—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
A knock.
The door swung open.
The landlord stood in the doorway, eyes dull, expression blank.
"You're behind on rent." His voice was flat. Uncaring.
He held out a clipboard. "Your family signed the cancellation this morning."
Subra's mouth opened. No words came.
"Nothing personal." The man shrugged. "But you don't live here anymore."
Then, in one smooth motion—he stepped aside.
"Out."
Subra's world shattered.
They were gone.
They left him.
They took the money.
Everything.
The apartment wasn't his. The rent had been under his mother's name.
With the payments canceled, he had no right to stay.
No home.
No family.
No future.
Nothing.
The walls, the floor, everything blurred together.
He wanted to speak. To beg. To scream.
But no words came.
Minutes later, he stood outside.
The door locked behind him.
And just like that, he was homeless.
—-------------------------------------
The days passed in a haze.
He wandered the streets, stomach empty, body aching.
Cold.
Tired.
Alone.
Rain poured down, soaking him to the bone.
His clothes stuck to his skin. His fingers ached from the cold, but he barely felt it.
Step after step, he wandered with no direction.
A year ago, he had a plan. A future.
A month ago, he still had a dream.
A week ago, he thought he had hope.
Now, he had nothing.
The city moved around him, people rushing home to their warm houses, their loved ones. No one spared him a glance.
The streetlights flickered as the storm raged on. Lightning flashed, painting the world in brief, blinding light.
He stumbled into an alleyway, his body screaming for rest.
His breath came in short gasps. His limbs felt heavy.
How long had it been since he last ate?
He slid down against the damp brick wall, his legs too weak to hold him.
Thunder rumbled above.
His breath came in slow, shaky gasps.
Why?
Why only him?
Why did he have to suffer?
The exhaustion seeped into his bones, deeper than just physical tiredness.
He was done.
Done trying.
Done hoping.
Done fighting a world that never let him win.
His head lolled back, pressing against the cold, wet bricks. The rain felt distant, like a whisper against his skin.
His fingers twitched—numb, too weak to curl into a fist.
His chest rose. Fell. Slower now.
His lips barely moved as he whispered.
"If there is a god…"
A breath. A pause.
"I hate you."
Lightning flashed.
The wind howled through the streets.
His vision blurred.
His last thought before everything went dark—
But if there's a way for me to change everything… I'll take it. No matter what it is.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
—-------------------------------------
Silence.
Subra's mind drifted in darkness.
No cold. No hunger. No pain.
Just… emptiness.
Then, a whisper.
"Welcome."
A strange warmth spread through his body.
His senses slowly returned.
He was lying on something soft. Grass?
His fingers twitched, brushing against tiny glowing roots.
The sensation was… strange. Warm, but not like heat. More like a pulse of energy, humming beneath his skin.
His breath hitched. His body felt different. Lighter. Stronger. Alive.
His eyes fluttered open.
A sky stretched above him—endless, vast.
Two moons hung in the sky, their silver light bathing the land in an eerie glow.
And in front of him—
A tree.
But not just any tree.
A Tree of Light.
Its branches stretched high, its leaves shimmering like golden threads of energy. Tiny specks of luminescence floated through the air like fireflies.
It was… breathtaking.
Subra pushed himself up, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.
This wasn't the city.
This wasn't Earth.
Subra's breath hitched.
Where… was he?
To be continued.