Breaking Point

The air was bitterly cold as Felix walked to school. The sky above was grey and oppressive, matching the weight in his chest. He clutched his bag tightly, the chessboard nestled inside it feeling heavier than ever.

His grandfather's face lingered in his mind—lifeless, cold, abandoned by the people who were supposed to care. No one came to help. No one cared enough to try.

The world blurred around him as he walked, his legs moving on autopilot. The voices of students gathered at the school gates barely registered. He kept his head down, hoping to avoid any attention.

But fate was never kind to Felix Reygal.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

"Reygal!"

He stopped, his stomach sinking. The voice was unmistakable.

"Come here, loser!" Marco's voice rang out, followed by the laughter of his group.

Felix didn't move. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.

"I said come here!" Marco shouted again, this time with a cruel edge to his voice.

The crowd around the gate parted as Felix finally turned, walking toward the group of bullies with slow, measured steps. Marco was leaning against the fence, flanked by his usual goons, a smug grin plastered across his face.

"Look at this guy," Marco said, gesturing to Felix like he was putting on a show. "What happened? Trip on your way out of the gutter?"

The laughter from the group cut through Felix like shards of glass.

He said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"What's in the bag?" Marco asked, stepping closer. His eyes narrowed. "You hiding something, Reygal?"

"No," Felix muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Didn't quite catch that," Marco said, grabbing Felix by the front of his jacket. "Speak up."

Felix met Marco's gaze for the first time, his eyes dark and empty. "I said no."

Marco's grin faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly. "You're a real piece of work, you know that? Always skulking around like some sad little ghost. It's pathetic."

The others laughed again, but this time, Felix didn't flinch.

He didn't feel anything.

Marco leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "What's it like knowing no one gives a damn about you? Even your family doesn't want you. That's why you're always running back to that old man, right?"

Felix's jaw tightened.

"Oh, wait." Marco's grin widened, his tone dripping with fake concern. "You can't run to him anymore, can you? Heard he finally croaked. Probably couldn't handle being stuck with a freak like you."

Something inside Felix snapped.

He didn't remember moving. One second, Marco was sneering in his face, and the next, Felix's fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling back into the fence.

The crowd gasped, a mix of shock and excitement rippling through the students.

Marco recovered quickly, his face twisting into a snarl. "You little—"

Before he could finish, Felix swung again, this time catching him in the stomach. Marco doubled over, coughing and swearing.

The other bullies hesitated, unsure whether to step in. Felix turned toward them, his eyes wild, his chest heaving.

"Don't," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

They froze.

Marco straightened, his face red with anger and humiliation. "You're dead, Reygal," he spat, lunging at Felix.

But Felix was faster. He sidestepped the attack, grabbing Marco by the collar and slamming him into the fence. The metal rattled loudly, silencing the onlookers.

Felix's breathing was ragged, his hands trembling as he held Marco in place. His vision blurred at the edges, his mind spiraling into a haze of rage and pain.

"Say it again," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Say one more thing about him. I dare you."

Marco struggled, but Felix held him firm. His grip tightened, his knuckles white.

"Felix, stop!"

The voice cut through the haze like a blade.

Felix blinked, his focus snapping back to reality. The crowd around him had grown, their faces a mixture of fear and fascination. Teachers were pushing their way through, shouting for the students to disperse.

He let go of Marco, who collapsed onto the ground, coughing and swearing.

Felix didn't wait for the teachers to reach him. He grabbed his bag and walked away, his heart pounding in his ears.

As he rounded the corner of the building, he stopped, leaning against the wall as his legs gave out beneath him. His hands were shaking violently, blood smeared across his knuckles.

He stared at them, the weight of what he'd done sinking in.

For the first time in his life, Felix had fought back.

And it scared him.