Into The Reality

chapter 35:- Jack the other side

A man woke up from his dream. He slowly went near the mirror and gave a big yawn, then headed to the kitchen. His mother was cooking breakfast.

"When did you wake up?" his mother asked.

"Just now. What's for breakfast?"

"Oh... You only eat when you know what it is. Brush your teeth first," Mother said with a laugh.

He hesitantly went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. After that, he ate breakfast and went outside.

"So... I'm Jack. Just a nineteen-year-old unemployed, stupid coward with no self-respect, no confidence, and anger issues. Yeah... I hate myself." He started talking to himself.

"Even though I'm this much of a failure, I've never failed to be kind to others," he added, picking up an apple that had fallen from an old merchant's basket.

"Thank you, Jack," the merchant said.

"As you can see, everyone knows me. Everyone loves me. That's what I thought. Until..." His face frowned as a firm memory came back.

---

"You smoked weed? How dare you come into this house again after doing that?" Jack's father shouted at him.

"Do you know how old you are? If you start smoking at this age, what will your future be like?" His father slapped him across the face.

"Dad, I didn't do it," Jack wept. He was only fifteen at the time.

"What did you say? If you didn't smoke, then how did Johnson see you yesterday, huh? Even Sara said she saw you. Are you telling me they're lying?" His father's words hit harder than the slap.

Jack looked down. He felt betrayed-for something he hadn't even done.

"That's enough. He already told you he didn't do it," his mom defended him.

"Oh, that's nice. You're spoiling him. Tomorrow he'll bring drugs into this house-what will you do then?" his dad snapped back at her.

Jack stood there with teary eyes before running to his bedroom.

His father looked at him, then went outside and lit a cigarette.

"Why are you being so mean to him?" his mother asked.

"I don't know... I can't control my anger. Is he alright? I just... I don't want him to end up like me," he said with a cough.

Jack was still crying on his bed when a calm knock came at his door. He ignored it and pressed a pillow over his head. His dad came in anyway.

"Son, are you sleeping? Look... I'm really sorry. Ahh... I was under too much tension, and you know-I heard them talking about you like that, and I just got angry. Did it hurt? I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it," his dad said, tapping his shoulder.

"I know you're pretending to be asleep. Wake up," his dad added. Jack flinched and turned over.

"You know about my smoking, right? You know how bad it is. I can't stop, even though I'm coughing badly these days. It's an addiction. I don't want you to be like me. Hey... are you listening? Get up or I'll sell all your games."

Hearing that, Jack jumped out of bed.

"Now tell me-did you smoke weed yesterday?" his dad asked.

"No, Dad."

"Can I trust that?"

"Yes. I was playing with my friends at that time. My shirt got dirty, so I came straight back home," Jack said while weeping.