4
606words
With a yank,I smashed his head against Fiona’s.
A dull thud,and both crumpled,faces twisted in pain.
I stared coldly.
“No one who wrongs me gets off easy!”
My brother and mom froze.
They hesitated before taking a step forward, then retreated.
Beyond fear,their faces burned with anger.
Glaring,my mom instinctively ordered my brother:
“Call the police!”
The station was nearby,and cops arrived fast.
They glanced at us. My face was bloody, my dad had a swollen forehead, and Fiona had a swollen forehead with a bloodied nose and mouth.
One waved.
“Come on,all of you,to the station!”
My dad,recovering,clutched his forehead,blocking the police.
“Take this bastard away,lock him up!My daughter-in-law’s not going!”
“She needs a hospital…”
The cop glanced at Fiona,muttering,“Fine.”
He scanned everyone’s expressions and finally looked at me.
“One guy against a whole family,huh?”
“What kind of man are you?Ballsy!”
“Let’s go!”
Following his gaze,I looked around.
My dad,brother,uncle,aunt, and cousin were all there.
Every glare was venomous.
No wonder the cop saw them as a unit,me as the outsider.
But…
“I’m this man’s son.”
“His biological son.”
My thoughts drifted on the way to the station.
I remembered a coworker from my old job.
A chat we’d had.
He’d just hung up a call,his dad on the other end.
His had a sour look on his face, and his tone dripping with sarcasm and contempt.
When I learned it was his dad after he hung up, I couldn’t hide my surprise.
This coworker was always kind to everyone—I’d never seen him like this before.
People wear many faces.Was he a good colleague,good employee,but a bad son?
We talked.
I tactfully voiced my confusion.
He smiled and recounted how he was mocked for his low pay, how he almost dropped out of school, and how he carefully planned his wages.
His final words,unclear to me then,stuck:
“…Not all parents love their kids.”
“Most are in it for profit.”
“They don’t have kids thinking,‘I’ll love them,raise them well, and show them the world.’”
“They think,‘I need labor,someone to support me in old age.’”
“‘I need them to bring me profit,to change the life I can’t change myself.’”
“They see their kids as a stepping stone,a means to gain.”
Back then,I was an overachiever.
I’d won every scholarship and had all my fees waived.
While others paid for school,schools actually paid me to study there.
I was my parents’pride—they always smiled and showed their cared.
His words seemed so distant from my own experience.
But people wear many faces.
I thought I was far from his reality.
But I was wrong.
I’d been in it all along.
My early success,bringing value to the family,hid their profiteering side.
My ability earned their smiles.
Now…
I’d worked myself to the point of illness and built a company.
Six months ago,tasting success,I told myself to take it easy.
That ease brought illness,hospital stays.
It allowed my wife, who was savoring the success of our startup, to cheat without feeling guilty.
That ease stripped my value in my parents’and brother’s eyes,erasing all I’d done.
I became my coworker’s younger self.
My parents’ugly side surfaced.
The ugliness of the world came crashing down on me.
In my rage,every blow was heavy.
Fiona’s nose and mouth were split open.
Half her face was scraped bloody by my shoe.
The worst part was her teeth—one front tooth was loosened, and another was knocked out.
After hospital checks,my dad,clutching his swollen forehead,stormed the station,yelling.
“He mangled my daughter-in-law!This monster’s too cruel!”
“Lock him up!Punish him!”
But he was in for a disappointed.
“I’m this man’s biological son.”
