UNKNOWN POV

"No!" I cried out, "Leave me alone." My heart pounded, and my feet kept running. Who was I running from?

My father.

The cruelest man I have ever met.

I finally stopped at my friend's house and ran towards the door. They kept their door unlocked, which is very ridiculous. I opened it up and immediately spotted Ronny, one of my friends from school. He's a blonde boy with amber eyes and thin lips. His parents were usually out of town working, so he was free without any supervision all the time, and this time, there were a bunch of people in the house partying.

My sister kept telling me he was a bad influence, but she's a party killer. "Hey bro!" Ronny called out, putting his arms up in the air. He smelled like shit, he smelled like my dad, and my dad reeks of alcohol. It's like he puts it on as cologne every day.

"Hey Ronny, come with me," I murmured, running upstairs with him behind me. When my other friends in Ronny's house saw us going upstairs, they came along too. I barged into Ronny's room to find Jacob making out with a girl on his bed. Jacob noticed us and sent the girl away. It was just us in the room, and they knew why I was there, so the pity party was initiated.

My dad would often beat me up, so I would run here when I got the chance. "Bro, you need to cool off," Peter said, passing me a bottle of alcohol. I was thirsty, so I took a big gulp. It tasted terrible. It had a bitter taste, and it felt like my throat was melting.

I mean, you can't blame me. I'm a 16-year-old teen who's just tasting alcohol. I started jabbering about how I loathed my dad, and no, I was not drunk; I was just furious. They were still paying attention when drunk Ronny asked if I was still a virgin.

I was stunned he asked a question like that at a time like this. He recounted his question, and all the boys began looking at me. I had no other choice but to reply because the uneasy silence was killing me. "Yes, I am," I answered.

Everywhere went silent, and all the boys held shock in their eyes. "Wait, hold up!! The popular rich boy is still a virgin. Kill me now!" Armius laughed. "What's so bad about being a virgin?" I blurted, interest visible in my voice.

"Bro, everything is wrong with being a virgin, people won't take you seriously." Armeus chuckled again. Really? Ok, I agree with my sister; they are bad influences, but they are the best friends I could ever ask for. "You know what, I'm done," I howled, clutching a bottle of alcohol from Ronny and gulping it down.

I ran downstairs and joined the party. I felt loose and empty; the alcohol didn't help at all, but still, I kept drinking.

I didn't want to be anything like my dad. I was ashamed of myself, so I lowered the bottle, but it was too late because I was already intoxicated. My father came barging into Ronny's house, and at this point, I was alarmed–was an underestimation. I initiated running as I tumbled over my feet due to my tipsy feeling. I managed to get out of Ronny's house through the back door in the kitchen after sprinting rashly by the drunk teens.

I kept jogging as promptly as I could, fear filling my heart. I sprinted across the road and was lucky enough to not get hit by a car. I spotted a silent and dark alley beside a street and stopped there only to look back and notice I was running for no reason. My dad wasn't even close by due to all the cars crossing.

Still panting, I saw a cigarette packet and a lighter on the floor. I didn't care where it was from, but I heard it relieved stress so I picked it up and began to smoke. I was in luck. There was an empty beer bottle beside me. I picked it up as a defense in case my dad came back. I was still inebriated, and I felt like shit after the first few puffs of smoke. It didn't work at all. It made things worse for me.

A girl ran into the alley, fear plastered on her face. She had long, brown curly hair that fell all over her face, full pink lips as beautiful as ever, and light grey eyes that could reflect anything it saw. Her eyes were different, I had never seen such a rare shade of grey. She spotted me, inducing us to make eye contact. She was really pretty, and the next thing that popped into my head was sex.

After all, my friends weren't virgins anymore, so why am I the odd one out? Why was I the coward? I ran towards her and reached into my pocket to find the handkerchief my dad tried to cover my nose with. He has used this on me multiple times. I don't know what it is, but I know he wants me to feel him beat me up, so the drug paralyzes me but I can still feel pain.

I put the handkerchief on her nose and lay her on the ground. I began to undress her and myself, and before I knew it, I was pounding into her, kissing and sucking every inch of her body, and for the first time in a long time, I felt good.

It was evident that she wasn't pleased with the situation, yet, her moans were music to my ears. Soft and delicate, not too loud and not too quiet, just perfect.  examined her perfectly shaped body, and I thrust even harder into her, kissing her on her lips once more.

I came followed by her and got up feeling good about myself, forgetting the fact I just raped a girl. It soon hit me, and guilt rushed through my body, and I watched a few teardrops fall from her eyes. Despite the inhumane act I had committed, I got dressed, trying to escape the scene.

Remorse held me hostage as I stared at her naked body. I used my jacket to cover her, then sprinted forward to leave, only to be confronted by my angry father after a few steps. He yanked my hair while striding towards a small sidewalk and beat me up.

From the corner of my eye, a dark figure was visible, staring at a nook. Whoever that was is the least of my concerns. I begged my father to stop hitting me, but he didn't Instead, he dragged me back to my house and put me in the cellar.

In this rich society, no one cares. Everyone sees but does absolutely nothing about it. Sometimes it hurts because someone has it worse than me, but as usual, everyone turns a blind eye and acts like nothing ever happened.

They act like everything is ok.

He threw insects at me and picked up a bat. He then swung it at me...

.

.

.

I'm a rapist that covered my tracks and picked on a poor, helpless girl. A part of me believes I deserve the suffering and pain I went through, but another part fights for me. It tells me what I did that night was because of my trauma, and I was young and led astray.

I think about it every day, regretting what I had done. People look at me and say, "What a handsome and respectable boy," but only I— and some who found out— know what I did.

The real question is...

Who am I?

___________________________________________________________________________

This chapter evoked a multitude of emotions within me simultaneously. I find myself torn when considering the boy's actions. While they were undeniably terrible, I also believe that part of the blame rests with the people surrounding him, influencing his behavior. However, it's undeniable that his actions were his own, and he must bear responsibility for them. Regardless, my heart aches for Violetta; neither of them deserved such a traumatic childhood.

Q and A

What are your thoughts on his actions? Do you hold him entirely accountable?Was someone truly watching everything unfold, or was the dark figure in the corner merely a figment of his imagination?