Chapter Eighteen
Age ten
T wo, six, two.
Two, six, two.
Two, six, two.
I was considered a genius student, but I did not test well.
Tests were followed by a whole lot of punishments and no rewards if I didn’t succeed. I’d been trained to think of them as my enemies.
Yet the academy forced me to enter this stupid math contest. I was already breezing through the material most people who pursued a bachelor of science in mathematics were still struggling with.
I found myself sitting on a Zurich stage with high schoolers on a crisp winter afternoon, solving equations in front of an audience.
We were given little clocks they put on our tables and pencils engraved with the name of the insurance company that sponsored the competition. My fingers quaked around my pencil. I could not focus on the numbers in front of me.
Two, six, two.
Two, six, two.
Two, six, two.
My eyes traveled up to the crowd. Teachers, professors, and family members of the contestants. The only person who came to see me was Andrin.
He sat in the front row and narrowed his eyes at me menacingly, fingers pressed together, elbows on his armrests. He didn’t need to say a word for me to understand everything that dripped from his scowl.
If you don’t win this competition, I am going to ruin you.
But what was left to ruin?
I was all alone in this godforsaken world. I had no friends. No family. Nothing to live for.
Recently, I’d been fantasizing about dying. The only thing stopping me was the technique of it.
I allowed myself time to research the idea. Which death would be the least painful?
Life was an ugly period of time in one’s existence. But it wasn’t going anywhere. I could off myself in a week, two, or even a few years.
Beads of sweat slithered down my spine and forehead.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
The numbers on the page blurred into stains, splotching under the drip-drip-drips of my sweat.
Before I knew it, the clocks began to buzz, and the other contestants handed over their score sheets.
My page was blank. I hadn’t solved one equation.
The drive back to the academy was silent. Andrin was no doubt plotting the best way to hurt me. I was already numb to his physical abuse.
He dropped me off by shoving me out of my seat. I hit gravel, tiny stones digging into my knees, slipping between my teeth.
I spent a sleepless night wondering when the other shoe would drop.
I’d learned my lesson since Ares. I no longer welcomed pets into my room. Instead, I went into the woods in the dead of the night and met my pet there.
His name was Zeus. He was a fox.
Completely blind and helpless.
Vulnerable, like me.
I brought him food and fresh water and made makeshift toys for him.
I never let Zeus follow me, always outsmarting him and slipping away before he could sense where I was going.
Yet when the sun slid up the sky the next morning and I stepped out of the dormitory, there he was, my Zeus, his throat slit, on the steps of the house. His expression was surprised, his neck almost completely dislocated from the rest of his body.
But his eyes. They were still so kind. So hopeful. More trusting than I ever could be.
Because Andrin had taught me a brutal lesson.
Everything I’d ever love was destined to die.