My name is Steve, my father passed away when i was still in elementary school. All I had left is my mother and I thought we were both what we need to survive. But I guess I'm the only one thinking it that way. Life was going smoothly until this guy came along, his name is Ernest and he is my new stepfather. My stepfather always hated me. When my mother married him and he moved into our house, my life has became a living hell. He found fault with every little things I did and was constantly shouting at me. In his eyes, I could never do anything right.
Pretty soon, all of the chaos at home began affecting my schoolwork. I found it impossible to study and my grades starting slipping. At the dinner table, I was so nervous that I hardly ate a thing. I gradually withdrew into myself and stopped hanging out with my friends. Things began to grow worse as time passes by. I became my stepfather's punching bag. He started beating me at the slightest excuse. He was a strong man and I was too weak to fight him off. Each punch and kick he delivered to me hurt me emotionally as well as physically. It wasn't long before I was diagnosed with depression and the doctors put me on medication.
Through all this, my mother stood by and refused to intervene. She chose her new husband over me. That hurt me more than anything else. I gave up, hoping and praying for the day when I could escape. One day, I couldn't stand it anymore and ran away from home. I made it as far as the city but the police found me and brought me home. When they took me back to my house, there my stepfather was standing at the door waiting for me. His face was in full anger and rage. As soon as the police left, he turned to me and say "Did you think you could escape?"
That very night, he beat me twice as bad as before. I cried myself to sleep. After that, violence escalated. Every evening when he came home from work, I tried to avoid him, but it was no use. He began inventing silly excuses to beat me up. I never understood how any living souls could be so mean and cruel. It seemed like it was all fun and games to him. Each time he hit me, I could see the joy on his eye. My body was covered in bruises and it hurts just to breathe.
Eventually, he went too far. One evening, he beat me so badly that I couldn't move. I just lay on the floor of my bedroom, staring at the ceiling. I didn't know it at the time, but I was bleeding internally. My mother begged him to bring me to hospital, but as expected he ignored her. He said I was faking it for attention. During the night, I lay on the floor of my bedroom, moaning in pain and slowly slipping into unconsciousness. The next morning, my mother came in to check on me, but by then, I was already dead.
Time passed...
I don't really know how much time passed...
Suddenly, I saw a bright light.
I heard a voice announce, "It's a healthy baby boy!"
I started crying loudly.
Slowly, every so slowly, I opened my eyes.
A man and a woman were staring at me.
They were smiling from ear to ear.
The man leaned down and touched my cheek.
In a gentle voice, he said, "Did you think you could escape?"
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