Immediately, veins appeared all over Silas's father's face as his eyes shot daggers toward Silas.
"Is this the sort of friends you're making in school?!" his father yelled, catching the attention of nearby students. Silas noticed, and it made him socially anxious—his focus now split between his father and everyone watching.
"No-no, we're not friends."
"ARE YOU LYING TO ME?!"
"I'm not ly—"
"So how can this small boy approach us and ask such a question if you're not friends? He has the confidence and comfortability to ask because you are friends—but you want to lie to me!"
"I'm not—"
Before Silas could finish, his father's face hardened, already convinced he had been lied to.
"Sorry for lying to you, fa-"
"So YOU were lying?! I'll deal with you when we get home," his father said, aggressively grabbing Silas by the wrist as he began dragging him away.
However, Silas didn't move, which his father noticed.
His father turned around, only to see Rickardo holding Silas back, gripping his arm. His jaw dropped at the sight—something he never thought possible.
"You're not a child! You're in Year 11, a grown ass man! Why are you letting your dad treat you like some boy?"
"What?!" Silas uttered, thinking Rickardo was talking nonsense. He wasn't a grown man—he was a teenager… a child.
However…
Rickardo's words lingered in his mind. What he was saying didn't make sense—yet somehow, it felt right.
"Silas! If you don't let go of him, you'll see what I'll do to you!" his father shouted, his eyes bulging with humiliation.
What? Can he not see that I'm being held onto?! Silas thought.
"You don't have to do everything your parents say! My parents can't tell me what to do anymore," Rickardo said.
"How?!" Silas asked.
"You're asking him how?! Are you mad?!"
"You've got to retaliate—show them who's boss. Let them know… you are your own man!"
"What sort of stupid advice are you telling my son? And you better not take in what this idiot is saying!"
"There can only be one man in the house… I had to learn it the hard way…"
"Wait… you've been in my shoes… like this?" Silas said, hope flickering in his eyes.
"Even worse, mate."
"Worse? You went through worse?"
"SILAS! I'm going to count to 10! If you still haven't fought him off by the time I reach zero, you'll receive the worst beating of your life! One!"
The countdown had started, but Silas wasn't focused on his father. He remained fixated on the word worse.
Worse? Someone can go through worse than I did? Worse? What does worse look like? And he's now saying his parents can't tell him what to do? Then he's a bad kid. I shouldn't take his words… he must stress out his parents… but…
Silas stood at a crossroads, caught in the middle—his father gripping one arm, Rickardo holding the other.
What do I do? Silas thought, hearing his father's countdown in the background.
What do I do?
Rickardo's words echoed in his mind.
"If you let them continue or don't stop them, it's never going to stop. You'll never be a man—just your parents' possession."
Rickardo's words triggered something—simulating a future in Silas's mind.
A future where he continued listening to his parents.
A life where the house still ran on rules, like a prison behind bars.
A life where laughter no longer existed—silence became normal.
The only sounds were the voices of other children drifting in from outside, carried through the windows.
Breakfast was measured.
Sugar was taboo.
Playdates were unheard of.
The only "gift" on birthdays was not studying for a day.
But it didn't stop there.
Years passed—yet nothing truly changed.
Silas grew into a man. His voice deepened, his shoulders broadened, and the world recognised him as an adult.
However, inside his parents' house… adulthood meant nothing.
He was still a child to them.
The rules remained the same.
Sugar was forbidden.
Everything was measured.
Although he was old enough to buy whatever he wanted with his own money, if he didn't listen—or follow his father's advice on what to spend—it still resulted in beatings.
Yes… beatings still existed in the world Silas lived in.
Beatings.
Beatings. Beatings.
Despite being a grown man, he couldn't fight back, because fighting back meant breaking the law.
"That's a waste of time."
"As long as you're still under my roof, you do what I say!"
Those were things his father still said.
Friends were still seen as a distraction. If Silas came home a bit late from work because of coworkers, they would ask:
"Who is that?"
"Why are they with you so late?"
"You're not going out tonight, are you?"
And if Silas didn't give the right answers—
Beatings.
Beatings.
Beatings.
Silas snapped out of that life simulation.
That future hadn't happened. It was fabricated by his mind, shaped by his current living situation.
However… all the anger, hatred, and bitterness from what he had seen in that imagined future—combined with what he had already experienced in reality—erupted within him.
A storm that had always been there… but one he had always suppressed… could no longer be ignored.
Rage.
Vengeance.
Humiliation.
Pride.
Pain.
Hurt.
All of it surged through Silas's heart.
"Zero!"
His father's countdown came to an end, and he prepared to strike his son.
Silas pulled himself free from his father's grip and met him with a scornful look.
His father, completely shocked, fell silent as Silas simply glared at him without saying a word.
Tension filled the air, but there was only silence. Rickardo watched.
"So you've made your decision?" his father said solemnly.
SCHEWWT—YAT!
The sound of his father spitting—right at his own son.
"Don't come home," his father said, which shocked Silas. "Since you want to follow your friends and be your own man, do it! Today you have become your own man! So now live under your own roof," his father said as he walked away.
It had been a couple of days since Silas had been home—ever since his father kicked him out.
Lost in thought, as dojo classes finished, he stood outside the building. He was so used to the routine of his father picking him up—but now, his father was nowhere to be seen.
"He really threw me away…" Silas muttered—not in sadness, but in realisation.
He was free… but he didn't know what to do.
Flashbacks of his father's abuse—and his mother never stepping in—rose within him, stirring anger and hatred. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, feeling deeply unsatisfied.
"Is this how it ends?" Silas muttered.
"Yo! Silas! How long were you waiting for me?" Rickardo said as he put his arm around him.
"Not sure, just been lost in thought."
"Thinking about your parents?"
"Yeah," Silas responded.
"Do you miss them?"
"No," Silas said sternly.
"Woah," Rickardo said, startled, not expecting such a response.
"They stole my childhood! If anything I'm pissed off! I don't like how it ends! I don't like the fact my stupid old man gets to end things on his accord! He spat on me and you're saying I can't do nothing back?! I want to get him back! I want them to suffer! This anger I'm feeling, this bitterness—I want them to know exactly how I feel! I want them to say sorry!"
Silas huffed and puffed, breathing heavily as his anger escalated, intensifying as he clenched his fists tighter—drawing attention from others passing by on their way home.
Rickardo placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I know how you feel," Rickardo said.
"You do?" Silas said.
"Yeah, at first I didn't know how to explain the feeling, until an older person told me—I feel like this because I wanted closure, but I got none."
"Closure? Yeah… that's probably it. I don't like the way it ended, it doesn't feel complete… finished… My parents don't know how I felt. They always think—even right now—that they're in the right and I'm wrong. It pisses me off so badly. I know right now they're talking badly about me, dissing me, insulting me!"
"Take your mind off them, it won't do you no good, Silas."
"I thought you said you understand, Rickardo!" Silas said, getting aggravated. "Do you know how it feels to be spat on?! In front of everyone in the dojo! I feel like a fucking piece of shit! And I can't hit him because he's my freaking dad?!"
"So why don't you hit someone else?"
"What?!" Silas said.
"Woah!" Rickardo said, putting both hands up in a stop gesture. "That came out wrong—I meant, why don't you hit bad people?"
"That still doesn't justify anything."
"Well, I'm just saying what helps for me, I guess."
"So you go around hitting people then?"
"Not just anyone. People that disrespect me or my friends—yeah, I end up pummeling them. And trust me, it feels good after."
"Huh?"
"As a man, Silas, you should never let anyone disrespect you. You got to be strong and aggressive, and through that no one would ever treat you wrong."
Taking in Rickardo's words, it made Silas think deeply. Maybe the reason his father treated him the way he did was because not once had Silas tried to defend himself—or stand up for himself—even when he was right. This thought process opened his eyes as he stared at Rickardo.
"How do you know all this, Rickardo? Who taught you this? I've been staying at your place, but you don't live with your parents. Is it what you do when you're outside from home? I noticed you're barely at home. You did mention earlier about an older person—are they teaching you this? How to be strong? How to be a man?"
"Yeah… they're in their twenties. But are you sure you want to meet them? They're kinda strict."
"Yeah, so? My father was strict, I can handle it."
"Ermm, I don't know, Silas. I did say you can stay at my house… but—"
"But what? Rickardo, I barely ask you for anything despite living in that abandoned apartment with you. I see the most sketchy people, but I never ask questions since you gave me a place to stay. But this one time I ask for help—"
"Okay, okay, sheesh! No need to guilt trip me! There's a reason why I'm so hesitant to introduce you to him."
"Why? Just because he's strict?"
"He hates people that can flex."
"What?"