6-DGAF

Izaak D'angelis

I remember the morning it all began. The sun shone brilliantly through my window, casting a warm glow over my room. At six years old, I was blissfully unaware of the world's cruelty, enjoying my youth with all its freedom and wonder. But that day, my childhood innocence was ripped from me.

I still feel the cold shiver running down my spine as I think back to that afternoon. The touch of her hand, so rough and unfamiliar, left me confused and frightened. I ran to my mother, hoping for her comfort, but all I received was a sharp rebuke.

From that day forward, everything changed. I couldn't escape her, that young girl always hovering over me like a shadow. Her hands on my skin made me cringe, my every fiber yearning for release. But I had no one to turn to. My mother's indifference was like a knife in my heart, piercing my soul with each passing day.

As the years passed, things only got worse. The woman continued to hurt me, even as she gained power and influence in my mother's world. And I continued to suffer in silence, the weight of her actions dragging me down until I could barely breathe.

Years went by, and I learned to endure the pain in silence. No one saw the darkness I lived in, the terror I faced each night. I was a prisoner of my own thoughts, trapped in a world I didn't understand. Until the day she died.

At twelve, I was old enough to understand what had happened. She had gone, taken by pneumonia, but leaving a legacy of scars that I still carry today. I don't know how to heal from it, how to forgive the woman who had hurt me so much.

And yet, even with her gone, the scars remained. They cut deep, deeper than I ever imagined. And so I woke up each morning, my mind clouded by the memories, unsure if I could ever truly leave them behind.

I opened my eyes to another dreary morning, the kind that makes you feel like you've barely slept at all. I sighed heavily and slowly dragged myself out of bed.

It's a new day.

*****

"Good morning,young master." That annoying title again . I flitted my gaze towards my left, where Chiamaka, the head maid stood along with the other workers. I resisted the urge to scowl at her as I put on my best poker face. I fork my fingers through my hair, staring ahead of them.

"Where's my mother?" I asked them. I snapped my gaze to them sharply when I was responded with silence. One of them finally came to their senses and answered.

"Umm, she has an event by 8, so she's at Orekelewa getting her make up and hair done," Marianne, or Marissa, whatever her name was, answered and I frowned.

A party again? And on a Monday morning as well?

I sighed, taking my last step down the stairs and making my way towards the door. I wore just one hand of my school bag on my shoulders, and carried my cellphone in my other hand. I was about to walk out the door when a voice stuttered behind me.

"But sir, your-you haven't had your br-breakfast yet. Madame said -" I stopped, turned my head and glared. The female dropped her gaze to the tiled floor and mumbled a quiet apology. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the looks of terror and disapproval from the workers.

They'd been working here long enough to know that I did whatever the fuck I want. My attitude wasn't supposed to be any of their concern, nor business.

I walked in slow strides towards the black Jeep. Mr Patricks, the driver, was already standing there waiting, his hands behind his back. His suit's color was fading, and his tie was untidily knotted on his neck. I rolled my eyes for the second time that morning and opened the door to the back seat myself, hopping in.

As Mr. Patricks drove us out of the estate, I put on my headphones and leaned my head against the cool glass window. The monotonous hum of the car engine, combined with the soothing beats of my favorite songs, had a numbing effect on me. My mind went blank, and my emotions were suppressed.

The drive to school was uneventful, as usual. The streets were congested with traffic, and I watched the people and cars pass by, emotionless. It was as though I was a mere spectator, disconnected from reality.

When we finally arrived at school, I got out of the car and walked towards the entrance, not bothering to say goodbye to Mr. Patricks. My footsteps echoed on the concrete pavement as I made my way to my locker. I retrieved my books, organized them neatly in my bag, and headed to my first class.

The halls were bustling with students chattering and hurrying to their classes. I walked past them, indifferent to their existence.

My robotic nature had earned me a reputation at school as being cold and unapproachable. I didn't care much about making friends or socializing. All I cared about was my studies, and excelling in them.

I entered the classroom and took my seat at the front of the room. I took out my books and began reading, ignoring the curious glances from my classmates.

I didn't hear anyone approach until they were already seated beside me. I raised my gaze and turned to see Zephan Etaoma, the school's star athlete, with his shy girlfriend, Naya beside him.

"Hey," Zephansaid, his usual bright smile on his face. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "Just studying."

"You always are," he said, grinning. "You know, you should come out with us more often. We're having a party this weekend."

I rolled my eyes. "Not interested."

Zephan laughed. "Come on, man. You can't just study all the time."

I didn't respond. I was used to people not understanding me, but Zephan and Naya were the only ones who had ever tried. They didn't judge me for being robotic and indifferent, and that was something I appreciated.

"Hi, Izaak" Naya greeted me with a soft voice. I turned to her and smiled slightly.

"Hello Naya," I replied. She smiled back, then dropped her gaze almost immediately fiddling with her hands. Just like me, Naya was asocial and a reserved person. She wasn't really good with crowds, neither with people. She only ever hung out with Zephan and me, and of course, her chatterbox friend, Ivory-Marie. I did not like that girl one bit. She was far too loud and.... bright.

I didn't like a lot of people. I was very selective of the people I hung out with and or tolerated.

The list wasn't exactly long, actually. Just Naya, Zephan and my cousin, Kenya.

"Hey, you know we have a new girl at our class today." I raised my gaze to meet his, my eyebrows furrowed.

"New girl?"

"Yes. " He held my chin and forcefully turned my head somewhere. I scowled , ready to curse his ass out when I noticed what he was trying to show me. An unfamiliar face was in our class, sitting with the lousy Ivory-Marie, a small crowd surrounding her. There were all mostly boys giving her obvious fuck me eyes and desperately trying to get her to srare at their direction for more than two seconds.

Undeniably, she was breathtaking. Her lips, petite and resembling the shape of a tender heart, contrasted flawlessly against her exquisitely polished, dark ebony skin. Her eyelashes were a picture of elongated elegance, naturally framing her eyes which were the most mesmerizing hue of brown I'd ever had the pleasure to behold. Just her face, alone, possessed an allure that could ensnare any man's attention and when it came to her figure... that was simply an entity of its own.

This new girl would definitely cause a lot of trouble, I could tell.