Chapter 2

Sharp at five, my alarm went off.

I opened my eyes with a cracked mood, turned to the side, and tried to fall asleep again.

The moment my eyes closed, a voice—no, a whisper—slid into my ear.

“You forgot about your revenge… uh?”

My eyes snapped open.

This was the same voice I had heard last night.

I was alone in the room. At least, I was supposed to be.

Still, I jumped up and scanned the space. Pale moonlight spilled through the window, mixing with the faint glow of the street lamps outside. Nothing moved. No one was there.

Before I could think any further, my alarm rang again—5:05 a.m.

With a dead mood, I muttered, *screw those sounds*, went to shower, and forced myself back to studying.

After studying for a bit, around eight, my alarm went off again.

Time to hit the pool.

I’d been swimming since the age of five. It was one of the few things that gave me peace—one of the few sports I genuinely enjoyed. But with exam prep, and after *that incident*, I’d been skipping it.

Not anymore.

I got ready and stepped out, only to be greeted by my mother.

“Now I can say this is a good morning for sure.”

Instead of giving a proper answer, I rolled my eyes.

She continued, “So you finally decided to crawl out of your rot, huh?”

“Mother, for the love of God,” I said, rubbing my face, “please don’t start this first thing in the morning.”

She just smiled and said, “Have fun.”

Years of habit told her exactly where I was heading.

I got into my car.

That’s when I noticed a small piece of paper on the dashboard.

*Time is coming soon.*

I froze.

I knew that handwriting. There was no doubt about it—it was my father’s. I was dead sure. Even the ink was familiar, the same special kind he used for his official work.

But this is the first time he said something like this, and what this is about—what this means I am not sure of.

Come to think of it, if I say my father is a rich and powerful person, I won’t be wrong. But at the same time, I can’t tell you exactly how rich or powerful, because I don’t know that myself. I have seen quite a bit of luxury all my life—nothing loud, just quiet, subtle things—and I have seen this for as long as I can remember.

But once I grew old enough to understand things, restrictions followed. No bad habits. No unnecessary trouble. And one rule that could never be compromised—I could never tell anyone who my parents really were. I couldn’t let people know anything about my personal life.

This is one of the reasons all my friends and my girlfriend used to think I was broke, because I never talked about money, parents, and etc. Oh—sorry. Ex-girlfriend.

All my life I have been wearing quite normal clothes, nothing fancy. I drive a second-hand, clean Ford F-150. It’s clean, gets my job done, and I like that raw look. Bonus points for being matte black with red underglow lights. It’s nothing fancy. It’s very clean in my eyes.

You know, my so-called friends always used to make fun of my car. Even my ex-girlfriend used to say that if I wasn’t cheap, I should at least drive a BMW M5 Competition or something.

I just used to smile, ignore it, and say, “No, I love my F-150.” And that’s true. I do like it.

If I ask my dad for a BMW, I know I’ll get it. But I don’t want it, to be honest. I don’t care about those things. But those people used to care only about that.

Screw them. Why am I even talking about those people anyway?

She used to say she loved me.

“What an actual f***ing joke.”

I’ll show them what I can do.

With all these thoughts, I reached my swimming club. I have a bad habit of letting my body handle everything while my mind gets lost in words and spirals down into chaos. That’s why people call me weird and crazy—because I am present and doing everything, but actually not listening at all, just lost in my thoughts. That’s it.

The same thing happened right now. I jumped into the pool, and the sudden change in temperature hit my face. I snapped back into reality and started swimming.

After one hour of jumping and practice, I came out with one crystal-clear thought:

“F*** them. I will take my revenge and destroy them.”

With this thought, I changed back into normal clothes and came back home. Before the gate shut, my mother came back inside, letting herself in with a tray of fruits and some juice. She kept it on my study table, then turned to me with a face that said she knew I knew something and wanted to share it with her.

“Spit it out!!”

Without giving it any other thought, I said, “I want to move out and live on my own and prepare for my exam.”

As I said this, I could see her face change—from knowing, to a bit scared. Then she thought about something; I’m not sure what. Then another thought, maybe, that made her relax. With a knowing, relaxed smile, she said, “I will talk with your father.”

Without saying anything else, she left my room. I know I made her sad, but this is really important for me. I need to get out and grow on my own. I can’t stay here forever.

With her leaving my room, I went back to my studies. Soon, night rolled in, and I came out of my zone when a knock came.

“Sir, dinner’s ready!!”

I packed my stuff and went downstairs to see my father and mother sitting at the dining table, talking about something almost in a whisper. When my mother saw me coming down, she smiled and switched back to a more normal tone.

“Come, sit here.”

I silently followed and sat just in front of my father. I turned my plate, and the server came and started to put dinner on my plate.

“So you want to move out?”

My father has always been very straightforward while talking, and he doesn’t talk much. I never understood why. I assumed it was his nature, but somehow that doesn’t fit completely, because I have seen glimpses of him talking—and even chuckling—on rare occasions in front of my mother. But with me, he is mostly neutral, with a very calm and steady nature. I never understood him quite well, but for my mother, he is totally different.

I was spiraling down into my thoughts again when I felt a cold touch on my hand. I snapped back and saw him staring right at me, waiting for my answer.

“Yes.”

“And why?”

“So I can prepare for my entrance exams.”

“Okay. But the rule still remains.”

With a slight nod, I accepted. After that, we mostly ate in silence.

After dinner, I came back to my room. When I lay on the bed, I was thinking about something—but when I dozed off, I’m not sure.

Again, sharp at five, my alarm went off.

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