The sun hung mercilessly at the center of the sky, its scorching heat burning the air before it even touched my skin.
I muttered to myself, annoyed:
"Damn it… finally done with these hellish exams. June is the worst… and the irony? My birthday's on the same day the exams start. Never celebrated it once. Honestly, no one in this world even knows when my birthday is. Pathetic… in its own miserable way."
I glanced around, a strange feeling washing over me.
"What… why can't I move?"
Cold realization hit me:
"Oh… another dream. A dream that replays memories of my old days. Fine… I don't mind watching myself relive them. What I see now is just a reel of the past… but wait—wasn't this the last day of my middle school exams?"
I reached home in that recurring scene. My father's stern voice greeted me:
"Hakim, go buy some bread."
I let out a tired sigh, trying to refuse:
"Dad, I just came back from hell… can't you send my siblings instead?"
But his tone grew harsher, allowing no argument:
"Go. Buy. The bread."
Realizing there was no point in resisting, I left the house, defeated. Watching myself from outside my body in this dream felt surreal, like I was a mere spectator to a film of old memories I couldn't change.
I saw my dream-self buying seven loaves of bread and heading home under the scorching sun. Suddenly, a scream ripped through the stillness of the street.
It was a voice I knew all too well—it was my sister's, shrill with desperation.
My dream-self quickly dropped the bread, scanning the surroundings before hiding behind a nearby wall.
A fist seemed to land straight into my chest as I watched.
"What's wrong with this idiot?! That's his sister—why isn't he rushing to help?!"
My dream-self stared sharply at a small surveillance camera mounted on a corner. Realization dawned:
"He's thinking of using the footage as leverage… blackmail for money in exchange for silence!"
Rage ignited within me, a sensation like fire boiling in my chest. I felt my emotions erupt, reclaiming control over my body within the dream. In a low, resolute voice, I spoke:
"Even if this is just a dream… I'll kill you."
I lunged forward, but the scene shifted before I reached them. An old man appeared, bravely kicking the attacker in the stomach, sending him sprawling before he fled like a rat.
Hidden in the shadows, I watched my sister's pale, speechless face as the old man comforted her. Fury burned hotter in my chest.
I took a shortcut through narrow alleys, tracking the fleeing attacker. When he spotted me, terror spread across his face.
I sneered coldly:
"What's wrong? You look terrified already… and nobody's even caught you yet."
He stammered, voice shaking:
"N-no one caught me…"
My face reflected my murderous intent, every line spelling out my desire to crush him.
He stuttered:
"I-I'm just going home…"
My voice dropped, laced with threat:
"Stop."
He spun suddenly, trying to escape. Moving like lightning, I swept my leg into his thigh, sending him crashing to the ground.
With steady steps, I planted my foot on his face, voice dripping with rage:
"That look on your face… it tells me everything. Someone's backing you up, isn't there?"
I unleashed a storm of punches. A part of me wanted to end his life right there, but in a brief moment of clarity, I stopped. Killing him wouldn't bring back what my sister lost, nor erase the pain in her eyes.
I stepped back slowly, letting him stagger to his feet. As he backed away, he spat out with a raspy, hateful voice:
"I'll be back… with someone who'll crush you, bastard!"
I'd expected those words—and I let him flee. After all, he was nothing but a pathetic child, even if only three years younger than me.
But even knowing how empty his threat was, I couldn't resist. I raised my middle finger at him and muttered coldly:
"Bring whoever you want… I'll make you all regret it."
I retrieved the bread from the street and headed home.
Back at the house, the usual shouting filled the air. My father was yelling at my sister, demanding answers she couldn't give. My mother struggled to calm him, but it was hopeless.
I walked in quietly, holding the bread. I tried to break the tension:
"Dad… I got the bread."
He turned on me, eyes blazing. His slap cracked against my face, sending shockwaves through my skull:
"Where were you?! Your sister was attacked and you vanished!"
I stammered, reminding him:
"You sent me… to buy bread… I don't even know where my lunch is now…"
But his roar cut deeper than the slap:
"No food for you today!"
A black cloud of rage threatened to choke me. Why was it always my fault? Always Hakim's mistake, Hakim the nuisance, Hakim the worthless…
Fighting to control myself, I prepared a quick meal in the kitchen. But his voice kept booming, an endless grenade of anger. My patience snapped. I shouted back:
"I'm leaving this house!"
I grabbed my phone and stormed out.
Outside, anger still burning in my veins, I walked briskly down the street opposite our house. Suddenly, I saw them at the end of the road—the same kid I'd beaten, and with him, his older brother, eyes glinting with malice.
The younger one yelled:
"Brother, that's him! He hit me!"
The older brother stopped dead, glared at me, and shouted furiously:
"You! Get over here—how dare you hit my brother?!"
I calmly set my phone on the doorstep, recording everything, then raised my eyebrows with cold amusement:
"Perfect timing… you dog."
His eyes blazed as he lunged forward with shocking speed, landing a powerful kick in my stomach. Pain exploded inside me, my breath torn away as I crashed into a neighbor's garden wall. My gasp echoed with agony, but I forced myself upright.
He came at me with a punch aimed at my face—I swerved, grabbed his arm, and yanked him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground.
But before I could react further, a flash of white pain blinded me—a wooden plank smashed into the back of my head. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and the world spun.
Dizzy, I turned to see the younger brother wielding the plank, eyes full of the same murderous hate.
Rage surged through me like lightning. Ignoring the dizziness, I slammed a punch straight into his face, dropping him instantly. I seized the plank and pounded his legs repeatedly, his screams rising like shattering glass.
"Stop it!!"
A voice roared behind me. I whirled, but a cold, sharp pain stabbed deep below my stomach, like a torch igniting my insides. My eyes widened in shock as warm blood flooded my waist.
Barely conscious, I slammed my head forward, smashing into his nose. He stumbled back, dropping the knife. I grabbed it, hand trembling, and pulled it from my own flesh—white-hot agony coursing through me as it slid free.
I let out a gasp mixed with hysterical laughter amid the pain and the burning heat flowing from my wound.Without hesitation, I drove it into his abdomen and kicked him with every ounce of strength I had left.He collapsed, writhing in front of me, and I began raining blows on him like a madman—over and over, until his eyes were half-closed and his breathing came in ragged gasps… but he was still alive.
I pulled the knife out of his abdomen and raised it high for the final strike, but my body betrayed me completely at the crucial moment.I felt everything give way, as if my bones had turned to air, and I collapsed heavily onto his chest.
Darkness swallowed me whole. The last thing I saw was the younger brother's eyes wide with terror, tears streaming down his face as he sprinted toward me…