Death

My name is Andrew Wellington, the second son of 3, and a member of the Wellington family, one of the richest families in the world.

Since I was a kid, my relationship with my older brother was terrible, not to say horrifying.

I wasn't stupid, but I wasn't a prodigy either. My older brother, unlike me, was a genius in sports and in subjects. This led him to adopt a haughty and arrogant behavior.

Despite the fact that we were two years apart, he always treated me like a child and occasionally messed with me.

It wasn't until I was 5 years old, my little brother was born that my life really took a turn.

If the attention I received was already little, now I was invisible for my family.

My younger brother learned to read and write at the tender age of 3, that caused people to focus on him as the future successor of the wellington family, which caused his ego to rise considerably, basically the same thing happened to my older brother.

Because my older brother noticed that I didn't get as much attention anymore, a kind of rivalry started between my older and younger brother.

Because my older brother was four years older than my younger brother, the younger one was always considered to be intellectually better than the older one.

Soon those feelings of rivalry that my two brothers had turned into jealousy and hatred.

Amidst their discussions, there I was, the abandoned child of the Wellington household, the embodiment of misfortune and disappointment.

One day, without any prior notice, my older brother burst into my room with a lighter in his hand. I asked him what he wanted, as he never approached me, and it seemed very strange that he came to visit me, the brother he considered invisible.

"Don't worry, little brother. I just want to show you a magic trick" He said in a friendly manner.

At that moment, I was six years old, so I didn't doubt his intentions. It was one of my worst mistakes.

When I reached out my hand to my brother's demonic figure, he tightly gripped it and proceeded to mercilessly burn my hand with the lighter.

He left a burn mark on the palm of my hand. When I asked him why he did it, he simply replied, "Because I find it amusing."

From that day on, everything went downhill. My older brother took it upon himself to mistreat me to feel better about himself. He would burn me, hit me, and occasionally inflict small cuts on my body.

Due to my parents always being busy, I couldn't communicate with them directly, nor did I have their phone numbers.

Therefore, I had no choice but to write them letters for my personal butler to deliver.

"Dear father, I would like you to do something about James. Lately, he has been excessively bullying me, and I hope you can correct his behavior." "Dear mother, James has broken all of my toys. As your son, I demand that you do something to discipline him."

But it was always the same; neither of them responded, and James continued to torment me.

These constant abuses from my brother and the lack of attention from my parents caused me to develop a timid and submissive personality throughout much of my childhood and adolescence.

My relationship with my older brother, James, was terrible, while my relationship with my younger brother, Paul, could be considered non-existent. Every time I tried to have a conversation with him, he would ignore me.

I sought refuge in entertainment, becoming a fan of television, video games, and novels.

It wasn't until I turned 16 that I stopped caring about everything. I came to the conclusion that no one was going to help me, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and seek my own justice.

I enrolled in classes for a highly effective martial art called Muay Thai, and it seemed that I had a natural talent for it, as I quickly reached the level of a master.

One day, as usual, my older brother paid me a surprise visit to my room.

"Hey Andrew, I'm in a good mood today, so I won't go too far with you."

Just as he was about to strike me, I managed to land a powerful right hook to his liver. Unfortunately, I didn't control my strength, and it caused internal bleeding, resulting in him being taken to the hospital.

After that incident, for once in my life, my parents wanted to talk to me. When I arrived, they scolded me for hitting my brother.

In that moment, I exploded and reprimanded them for all those times I sent them letters informing them about my situation and they didn't even respond.

My parents just stared at me coldly, and with a mere second of eye contact, I could sense what their cruel gaze was conveying: "You don't matter."

Faced with such a feeling of helplessness, I simply stood up and struck my own father in the face.

The guards detained me, and shortly after, I was deemed mentally unstable so my parents send me to an asylum.

Since I never attended school and everything I did was within the confines of the mansion, I had no friends to defend me.

Years passed, and when I finally turned 25, they released me from the asylum.

To my surprise, I was not released because I was considered "normal," but because my father had contracted an unknown illness and had been given a few months to live.

When I arrived at the mansion, as expected, no one welcomed me.

I returned to my old room where a flood of unhappy memories overwhelmed my mind.

"Sigh," I breathed out. I closed my eyes to rest a bit, but just as I was drifting off to sleep, someone knocked on the door.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I apologize for interrupting your sleep, sir, but young master Paul invites you for tea," the butler responded.

Out of courtesy, I decided to attend this dreaded tea time.

When I arrived at the mansion's gardens, my younger brother was seated at a small glass table.

"Take a seat, Andrew. I have a few things to tell you," Paul said with an authoritative tone.

I obeyed and sat in a chair that was already prepared for me. The butler served me a cup of tea, which I drank to get this over with quickly.

"Andrew, Father is very ill, and he hasn't decided on a successor yet," Paul began.

"And why should I care? I'm sure he'd choose the dog as his heir before me," I replied.

"I know that, Andrew, but I can't leave any loose ends, by the way, I appreciate you drinking your tea so quickly." Paul calmly responded.

Before I realized that something was truly wrong, dizziness overcame me, and I gradually lost my balance.

"It's nothing personal, Andrew. It's just business," I heard that bastard of a brother say.

"Sleep well," were the last words I heard before collapsing and falling lifeless to the ground.