Kael walked home slowly. Every step hurt. His arms and face throbbed from the bullies' kicks and punches. His backpack felt heavier than ever, like it held all his sadness.
He opened his front door. At first, the house was quiet. Then he heard it – screaming.
His parents were fighting. Again.
"Go deal with your son!" his father yelled, his voice angry and loud. "He's just a disappointment!"
His mother screamed back, "He's not *my* son! I wish I never had him! That brat is *your* problem!"
Kael froze in the hallway. His heart felt like a rock in his chest. He clenched his fists, trying not to cry. He wanted to run away, but his feet wouldn't move. He took a shaky step towards the living room.
"I'm here," Kael whispered.
His father spun around. His face was red and angry. "Oh look! Our big shot is home!" he sneered. "Should I bow, Your Highness?" His words were like poison.
Kael's mother just walked out of the room without looking at him.
His father stepped closer. His eyes were full of hate. "Do you know what you are?" he growled. "You're worthless. I wish I never met your mother. You ruined our lives."
Kael's heart hammered against his ribs. He squeezed his fists so tight his fingernails dug into his palms. He wanted to yell. He wanted to hit back. But he stayed silent.
His father laughed meanly. "Oh, look at him! Do you want to hit me? Go ahead, you little coward!"
Kael turned away, head down, and walked to the kitchen. His father's mean laugh followed him.
"Run away, you useless brat! Yeah, that's all you can do!"
Kael leaned against the kitchen counter. His whole body shook. He looked down. There was a sharp kitchen knife on the counter.
*Why do they hate me?* he thought, tears burning his eyes. *What did I ever do wrong?*
Suddenly, something inside Kael snapped. The pain from school, the words from his father – it was too much. He grabbed the knife. His hands stopped shaking. He walked fast back to the living room.
His father turned around. His eyes went wide. "What the—"
Kael didn't think. He pushed the knife hard into his father's throat.
His father made a horrible choking sound. Blood sprayed. He fell to the floor, gasping.
"IT'S YOUR FAULT!" Kael screamed. He stabbed again and again. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!"
His mother ran into the room, screaming. "NO! STOP!"
Kael turned to her. His eyes felt wild. "You too! You're just as bad!" Before she could move, he stabbed her. She collapsed.
"You... let everyone down," she whispered, then went still.
Kael stood there, breathing hard. The knife dropped from his hand, clattering on the floor. The house was deadly quiet except for the sound of his own racing heart. Blood was everywhere.
*What did I do?* he thought, staring at his parents' bodies. *Oh God, what did I do?*
Tears streamed down his face. He turned and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
Kael ran through the streets. His mind was fuzzy. He couldn't stop seeing the blood.
*Mom... Dad... I'm sorry,* he cried inside. *But you made me like this! It's your fault!*
Bad memories flashed: his mother hitting him for taking a cookie, his father smashing his phone and punching him.
*"You're worthless." "You'll never be anything."*
Crying hard, Kael stumbled and fell onto the dirty sidewalk. He scraped his knees.
*What do I do now?* he thought, panic rising. *I can't go back. I can't live like this.*
He looked up. Ahead, he saw train tracks. And he heard a sound – a train was coming.
*Maybe this is the only way out,* Kael thought. *To just... end it.*
He got up and walked towards the tracks. His heart pounded like drums in his ears. He stepped onto the wooden rails.
*I have no choice,* he told himself. *I can't do this anymore.*
He closed his eyes, waiting for the train to hit him. The sound got louder. The ground shook.
At the very last moment, fear exploded in his chest.
*NO! I CAN'T!*
He jumped sideways, off the tracks. The huge train roared past him, the wind pulling at his clothes and hair.
Kael fell to the ground, sobbing into the dirt.
*I'm a monster,* he cried inside. *I'm a killer. I don't deserve to live.*
Then, a tiny thought whispered: *But... maybe... maybe there's still hope?*
(Chapter 2 Fin)