Meanwhile..

"So, how was school today?" my mom asked, her eyes focused on the road ahead. She was driving quite well today, and I noticed she seemed more alert than usual. It was a relief to see she didn't have any substance in her system. "Good. Nothing out of the usual. My grades are at a B average," I responded, trying to sound casual. She nodded, a small smile of approval on her lips. "Good, good." I pulled my phone from my pocket and began doing meaningless tasks on it—texting my friends, playing phone games, and browsing social media. The next minute was filled with a comfortable silence, though I sensed my mom was contemplating something.

Out of nowhere, she brought up, "Hey, what do you think about bullying?" Bullying? The weak should blame themselves for not fighting back. Of course, I won't tell her this. "Anyone who is being bullied should fight back, and the bullies are losers," I lied smoothly, continuing to click away on my phone. We stopped at a red light, and she turned to look at me, her gaze piercing. "You'd call yourself a loser?" What? Where's this coming from? Sweat slowly started to materialize on my forehead. My grip tightened on the phone as I struggled to keep my composure. The car seemed to grow warmer, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking my mind. She might know more than I thought.

"What are you talking about?" I questioned, trying to keep my voice steady. Mom responded while shimmying her fingers on the steering wheel, "Well, someone told me today you're bullying him." I turned my head to face her, turning off my phone. "Who?" My eyes were deadly serious, piercing into hers. She reflected, her tone firm, "I won't tell you who. Just tell me if you did it or not." I pleaded with her, "I don't do that, Mom, c'mon." She refused to believe me, her eyes narrowing. "No. Tell me the truth, now."

I am, though! Frustration bubbled up inside me. I raised my voice, "Mom, I don't! That person was lying to you!" The red light turned to green, but Mom didn't drive. The car stood absolutely still, the silence between us thick and tense. She said, "Until you tell me the truth, we won't move." Are you kidding me? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I yelled at this point, "Mom, stop being stupid! I didn't bully anyone!" Mom didn't touch the pedal. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set. "Alright, since you're so worked up, that boy may have lied. I'll figure it out, though." She finally started driving, and we headed home. The rest of the drive was silent, the tension palpable. I stared out the window, contemplating what just happened. How could she believe someone else's word over mine?

Very close to home, the argument escalated. The frustration I had been holding back erupted. "You're going to disrespect me like that? I did nothing wrong, and you stopped in the middle of traffic. Don't you see how irrational that is?" My voice was loud, raw with emotion. This point was unabashedly true. She yelled back, her voice strained as she tried to focus on driving, "I just care, you know that?" Yeah, I'm sure... I thought bitterly. But I needed to de-escalate the situation before it got worse. "Alright, alright... My bad... Let's just go home," I said, trying to sound calm, though my insides were still churning with anger. She said nothing,

Two days later..

Mom handed me the casserole, her tone insistent. "Eat some, get some weight on you." I'm fine, though. I'm a hundred and forty pounds and five-eight. Still, I accepted the gesture, grabbing the plate. I dug a chunk out of the casserole and placed it on my plate before moving the dish back to the middle of the table. The warmth and savory smell of the casserole filled the room as I took a bite, the familiar taste bringing a small comfort despite the lingering tension. I filled myself, eating slowly and methodically. Mom asked, "Help me with some yard work later." Uh... I hesitated, then responded, "Eh, if it's not too much work, sure." Mom ate her food voraciously, her table manners lacking. She had always been like this since Dad left. I tried to keep my manners intact, eating quietly and neatly. The silence stretched, and I couldn't help but think of Dad. I decided to ask, "Hey, when can I see Dad again?" Mom dropped her spoon with a clatter, her expression hardening. "What did you say?"

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I repeated myself, feeling a surge of defiance, "Well, when can I see Dad again?" Mom shook her head firmly, her eyes narrowing. "Never. He's a bad man." I denied this, memories of our last visit flashing through my mind. "When I hung out with him last time, he seemed to care." Mom's face twisted with sudden anger, and she yelled, "Stop! Stop asking me about this..." Mom... you're testing my patience. The room felt even smaller, our happiness growing thin.

A knock came from the door, cutting through the heavy silence. I asked, "Can I excuse myself?" She said, "Yes, but only for the door." I got up and walked to the door, my thoughts still lingering on the unresolved tension. As I opened it, I was greeted by a man slightly taller than me, with a muscular build. I asked, "What do you need?" Without warning, he threw a punch that landed squarely on my forehead. Is this... an attack?! I recoiled, stumbling back a few steps. The shock of the blow made my vision blur for a moment, but I quickly recovered. The man didn't waste any time and came in for a tackle, his arms wrapping around me.

He successfully had me in his grip, but I was ready. Drawing on my training, I kicked my feet and used his momentum against him, throwing him over myself. He hit the ground hard, and I could see the daze in his eyes as he struggled to regain his bearings. Not giving him a chance to recover, I rolled him onto his back and fought for ground control. He struggled, but this was my territory. I soon had his arm in a lock, with my two feet firmly planted over his chest. Using my body weight, I bent his arm until I heard the sickening snap of bone. He screamed in pain, his cries echoing through the hallway. He was done for. Breathing heavily, I looked toward the dining room, expecting to see my mom on the phone with the police. Instead, her face was full of horror, frozen in shock at the violent scene unfolding before her.

She stood near the dinner table, doing nothing, her face pale and eyes wide. I yelled, "Call the police!" I still had the man in the arm lock; he wasn't going anywhere. She explained, "I... set this up." What?! My mind raced. "Set what up?!" I yelled. The man groaned in pain but managed to speak. "This was an exercise! An exercise to test you! Your mom was going to give you so much money if you didn't—" His words were slurred, but I caught the gist. Mom explained further, her voice trembling but growing more hateful. "If you didn't know BJJ, I would've given you whatever you wanted to make up for this. But you do know it! I didn't take you to any classes! That kid was right," She started angrily yelling, her voice rising, "you are in a damn cult!" I let go of the man, standing up, disbelief and anger surging through me. "Are you kidding me?! That would've given me PTSD if I didn't—"

She countered, her eyes blazing, "If you didn't. You do." She showed her phone screen to me, her hand trembling slightly. "I transferred forty thousand dollars to your account. You're eighteen now. I don't give you permission to stay in this house anymore." She scrolled to another tab, revealing pictures. "And here's pictures of you checking out of school early to head to that ECLIPSE cult." My mom is rich, but she had the money to hire investigators?! I pleaded, dropping to my knees, desperation clawing at my throat. "Please... mom!" She gave me one last chance, her voice cold and unyielding. "Then, disavow the cult you're in." I... couldn't. The room spun, and I felt my world crumbling around me. The religion had been my refuge, my training ground, and my secret. I had believed in their teachings completely. Mom told me, "You have one day to grab your things and leave, Jordan." She crossed her arms, her face set in stone. "Security!"

Two men entered from the courtyard, their presence looming over me. They grabbed my arms, lifting me up with ease. Slowly, they began escorting me to my upstairs room. No way.. my life is over! As we reached the stairs, I shook them off, twisting free from their grip. I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs, but miraculously sustained no injuries. Fueled by adrenaline, I scrambled to my feet and yelled, "I don't need it!" I clutched my phone and wallet tightly.

Without looking back, I ran out of the door, leaving my house behind. This wouldn’t have been allowed twenty years ago, but now… I can't believe it! I reached the boundary of our property and climbed over the house's walls, landing on the sidewalk. The cold concrete under my feet grounded me momentarily, but I kept moving. The one who did this to me must be the one who said I was bullying him! I'll get my revenge. I'll sic my friends on you! Everything in my life… has gone to shit!