The Twenty Virtues Book 1- The Twenty Generals

44- The Murderer

Once upon a time, there was a boy. Let's call him Zeus. He was born into a decent family, not wealthy enough to be rich, but not poor enough to be destitute. They were middle class—okay, maybe a little above average.

Zeus was the youngest in an extremely competitive family where excellence was essential. His older siblings always belittled or underestimated him, while his parents were incredibly strict. All the boy wanted was to prove his worth; he was loving and needed to be loved. But unfortunately, he was born into a family where, to be loved, you couldn't be flawed.

His parents raised them in a system of competitions. The one with the highest grade at the end of the semester could choose a gift; the one with the lowest grade would be punished. If everyone got the highest grade, they would all get gifts; if everyone got a low grade, they would all be punished.

The one who helped the most with shopping or chores earned a compliment, a caress, a hug, and became the pride of the house, while the others were left forgotten in the corner. The parents' eyes judged everything—posture, speech, behavior, feelings, thoughts, needs, desires. Everything was strictly evaluated and re-evaluated by the parents to determine if it was something their children should feel or not.

"Don't share too much with everyone. Straighten your back. Don't be sad if an animal dies. Don't have strange desires. Don't eat too many sweets. Don't be rude. Don't be too nice. Don't do this. Don't do that. Just don't. Stop. Enough. No."

Zeus grew up eager to become the pride of his parents, so he was one of the most dedicated. He studied, worked at home, and did everything he could to be useful and help out. But the more he dedicated himself, the more his siblings did too, and that house turned into a battlefield. It wasn't just a matter of being approved or loved; it was a matter of being seen.

If their parents didn't see them, did they exist? The only time they existed was when they helped their parents, when they were useful. They were born to exist only under the gaze of another being, a constant surveillance from every cell of that region. They grew up wanting so much to please their parents that they became experts in reading facial expressions.

Brows, lips, eyes, cheeks, eyebrows, even the nose could give away an emotion. They were starving dogs for love and appreciation, desperately searching every inch of the faces in front of them for the smallest grain of love that could escape from that stern table.

At the foot of the table, the children raised their bowls, hoping, begging, pleading for just one drop of pride to fall on them. Even a single drop was worth it if it could guarantee their existence. They existed by being loved, by being good, by doing everything correctly. To exist, to deserve their parents' pride, they had to do everything right.

It was a world where dog eats dog to survive. As long as there were siblings as useful as you, someone would steal your crumb when it fell. They would take your place on the stage of existence in the world. The siblings constantly sabotaged each other, and since Zeus was the youngest, he was the most mistreated.

"Zeus, didn't I tell you to fold the clothes?" his mother scorned, showing him the mess of fabrics on the bed.

"But I did fold them, Mom."

"Then what is this? Don't lie to your mother."

"But..."

"That's enough. Go organize them." He saw that expression—disappointment, anger, frustration.

Actually... can I share a secret with you? These children misunderstood everything. They didn't become geniuses at reading expressions; they became geniuses at searching for expressions.

Even though the parents were strict and needed to improve how they treated their children, the feelings the children perceived were nowhere near what the parents actually felt.