For a brief moment, fear flickered across his face. But then, stubborn as ever, he straightened his back and shouted, "You can't scare me! You seduced my dad and made my mom so angry she died! You stole her place! I have to get revenge for her; I’m not afraid of you!"
"If you’ve got the guts, kill me now! Otherwise, next time, it won’t be a dart; I’ll throw acid on you instead!"
With that, he spun on his heel and bolted into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
My hand lingered in the air, frozen in place, before I finally let out a quiet, bitter laugh. The dart slipped from my fingers and landed in the trash.
I had made this set of darts as a birthday gift for him. I never imagined they would one day be turned against me.
Suffocating under the weight of reality, I returned to my room and silently packed my belongings into a suitcase.
Laughter spilled from the bedroom at the end of the hallway, bright and unrestrained, cutting through the silence like a blade.
By morning, as I stepped outside, the sight before me drove the dagger deeper.