The Technique

Chapter 23: Dad

I ran to the dorm quickly. I had no plan to go back to the event hall or do anything. I felt like the world was sending me away to a different galaxy. I felt like everyone was turning me down. My eyes were hurting already, and I just wanted to lie down on my bed and sleep 24 hours, or maybe a week. I wanted to escape from this situation and let the world fall apart. 

But instead of going directly to my room, I fell down the floor and leaned against the wall along the hallway. I looked up and stared at the cameras. One of them was pointing at me, probably watching me dying slowly. I felt weak. My insides were spinning. My head was aching. I just stayed there for some time. 

I didn't know how many minutes had passed, but I didn't care anyway. I closed my eyes, and when I opened it, I saw Greg silently sitting next to me. 

He was looking at the wall across from us as though he was reading something on it. 

"What are you doing?" I asked in a cracking voice. 

He took a deep breath and waited for another second before saying, "I used to hate my mom and dad." 

From that moment, I knew he was going to talk about what he heard earlier. "Is that why you're not in the event hall with them?" 

"They didn't come. They will not," he said in a monotone. 

I looked at him and thought that he was used to saying that often. I picked the right words before asking, "Well, what are you trying to say?" 

"I hate my parents, but I love them at the same time. Even though they don't treat me as their son, I don't care," he replied. 

My eyes opened widely. It was the first time that he opened up about his parents. "Why don't they treat you as their son?" I asked. 

"I had been treated as the trifling one when I was still living at home with them. I was very different from my two older brothers. They were the top students at their school, but there I was struggling to read a poem in preschool. Dad would always flog me or punch me in the face whenever I got a math problem wrong. And mom would always watch from afar, not doing anything." He finally looked up, perhaps stopping tears to fall. 

I stared at him for a while, and at least for a moment, I saw the other side of Greg. "Why didn't you seek help? You were abused." 

He shook his head. "There was no way I'd do that. I loved them. I still needed them." 

I contemplated everything bad he had done in the past and present and thought that the abuse he had experienced was the primary reason why he had been in that mindset. "But you were abused. You, of all people, should know how it feels, but why do you keep doing that to innocent people?" 

He turned to me. "I know how they feel, but I don't care. Dad said that I would be part of the family again if I get to be the top 1 for four consecutive years. His surname would be mine." He looked at the cameras then back at the floor. "I'd been the top 1 for two years already, and I'd been stealing answer keys because I'm stupid." 

"No, Greg, you're not. You're smart. You just have to find your strength. You don't need to do that again and again." 

"But you're beating me." He looked down. "If you beat me, I won't be able to go back home again." He pulled a knife out of his jacket. "This is the only way I could think of." 

I shook my head. "I don't care about the first rank anymore. If you want, I will help you. Just stop doing this." 

He stared at the knife. I wished he was thinking about my deal. But then the director with two guards behind him appeared in the hallway. They were all looking mad. 

Mr. Ashmore pointed at Greg. No, he was pointing at the knife. 

And at that moment, I knew Greg was done for. 

"Get up! Give me that knife!" he shouted. He was struggling with walking because of the very fit suit he was wearing. 

I was wondering why he suddenly appeared as though he knew Greg did something. 

Did he find out some footage of Greg killing? Had he seen me, too? 

"What did you do?" I whispered. I stood up, planning to run away. "Let's go now." 

But he sat there still, not moving afoot. I didn't know what he was thinking. He was staring at Mr. Ashmore and the guards with a smirk. It was as if he was waiting for them to finally put him in jail. He gripped the knife. And as Mr. Ashmore got closer, my heart jumped faster. 

For a moment, I thought that Greg would stab him. I stepped backward and almost hit the wall. 

Mr. Ashmore finally came over to him, knelt, and tried to steal the knife from Greg's hand. It was obvious that he struggled with stealing the knife. His bodyguards were just behind him, watching carefully in case anything would happen. 

Greg was still smirking, as though he was making fun of the director. They kept on fighting over the knife when Greg pushed Mr. Ashmore. 

The director fell to the floor. He used his elbow to get back his balance. The guards immediately turned to get the knife away from Greg. Greg was surprised when the guards came over him, so he raised the knife quickly that stabbed one of the guards' arms. The other guard cursed and kicked Greg's hand. The knife was thrown away. 

The guard quickly picked that up and stepped back before Greg did something. The principal gestured them to go away and leave him. 

I leaned against the wall as I watched the director stand up. His eyebrows were raised. His hands were forming a fist. I never pictured him this belligerent. Or maybe because I hadn't seen him often. 

He slowly walked toward and positioned himself to fight against Greg. 

Greg didn't move. He was half smirking. But there was a little bit of fear in his eyes. 

In a second, Mr. Ashmore's hand blew Greg's face, particularly to his nose. 

Greg's face reached the floor. Blood fell out of his nose to the tiles. He looked at me for a second and smirked. He turned to Mr. Ashmore and shouted, "Come on! Punch me more!" He stood up and faced the director. He was just inches shorter than him. He opened his eyes and arms widely. "Come on! Let Nathan watch everything! Punch me. Kill me if you want!" 

The director turned to me. He stopped gripping his hand and looked at me in disgrace. "You don't have to see this." 

I was taken aback. He was actually about to hurt Greg more. 

Greg looked at me. "No, don't move. Watch me..." he trailed off and turned to the director. "...being killed by my dad."