They cherished their precious son, so Zachary was loved and cared about since he was a little boy.

Zachary grew up spoiled, but he met me, who came back from the country, and I wouldn't spoil him.

As Zachary wanted my hairpin, I didn't give it to him.

My teacher gave it to me before I left the country.

Zachary sat on the floor and cried when he couldn't grab it from me.

His sound of crying attracted Tom and Patricia, who beat me up and held my hairpin in front of Zachary.

But Zachary didn't shed a single tear.

Tom and Patricia were extremely worried about him.

Zachary got the hairpin and thought there was nothing interesting about it, so he casually threw it on the ground.

The crystal diamonds on the top of the hairpin fell off.

I shouldn't have taken it out.

Seeing that I was looking at the hairpin as if it were a treasure, Zachary asked for it back.

After that, I never saw the whole hairpin again.

I occasionally saw a fragment of it.

There were a lot of things like that.

It included my clothes, shoes, pencil case, erasers, and awards...

Zachary would grab and hide anything I cared about.

He told me, "Olivia, dare you hit me? If you win, I'll give it back."

I knew I could never win.

He would cry and make others worry about him.

From that moment on, I gradually stopped fighting back.

Because there was no justice in our home, and it wouldn't help if I won.

When we got to middle school, Zachary's bad habits came up like a gale.

Zachary became one of the troublemaking students at school and learned a lot of dirty words.

He followed the others to insult people.

Zachary would return home and talk dirty to me when he didn't have enough fun outside.

He shook his body like an idler, bringing his friends to watch and laugh at my embarrassment.

He cheerfully continued to do such things to satisfy his weird needs.

Tom and Patricia would just frown slightly, "You're old enough not to talk dirty anymore."

Zachary would pretend to be well-behaved in front of them, but he seemed as nasty as a hooligan behind their backs.

"Olivia, I hid your pen. You couldn't find it, could you?"

He quickly pretended to be nice when he heard the door open.

He said with grievance, "Olivia lost her pen, but she blamed me, so you shouldn't ever buy her a new one. Our teacher said we should take care of our stuff, and if she lost it, she should review herself."

Tom and Patricia promised Zachary with a great smile on their faces and scolded me severely. They praised Zachary and rewarded him a toy he really wanted.

I kept quiet and memorized it all in silence.

I didn't want to be bothered with them, and I wanted to get out of here.

I was waiting. As long as I worked hard to get into a better high school and applied to the school for boarding, this kind of nightmare would be over for a while.

I would still see them on winter or summer vacations, but I could be myself completely.

However, Zachary ruined my future with his own hands.

Zachary muddled through each day in middle school, comparing himself to others who were doing worse.

They would compare who got the lowest marks this time and how the teacher was exasperated.

He had nothing to do with studying.

When our grades came out, Zachary glanced at his scores and continued to brag about them to his friends around him.

I got enough marks to get into the best high school so that I could apply to Stewart University later.

Zachary only got forty-nine points. He was even a little dumber than a fool.

No school would like to admit him.

Zachary was about to work in a factory after graduating from middle school.

Tom and Patricia thought their son was a genius, and that he would do well in high school and catch up with everyone.

Zachary's scores would not get him into a good high school.

So, they were going to use me as a gift to help him get into high school.

I was just a tool that was so cheap that it didn't cost anything.

It took them a long time, and only one terrible high school was willing to accept Zachary.

There was only one art student in this high school's last edition who applied to a decent college.

We ended up being admitted to such a terrible high school because Zachary could go to high school that way. They told me, "This is a blessing for you. Zachary will protect you when you get into high school."

After that, I fought back against them for the first time in fifteen years.

The consequences were unimaginable, and I was badly beaten.

With my hatred for them and the encouragement I received from my teachers, I was looking forward to the future.

The wounds on my body were already oozing pus and festering. If the teacher hadn't medicated me, I might have left this world a long time ago.

Who would care what Olivia wanted?

I just needed to fulfill my parents' mission.

They just cared about themselves.

Zachary and I were in the same class for all four years of high school.

I was the only top student, and the school asked all my teachers to cultivate me to the fullest.

I also lived up to their expectations by excelling in every test.

Seeing that I was still so brilliant in such a terrible situation, Zachary was unsatisfied again.

During our four years of high school, I became the object for Zachary to vent his anger on.

As others envied my excellent performance and were jealous that I was valued by the teachers, he would walk over to me arrogantly and humiliate me.

The others in the school were poor students, but they were downright polite compared to Zachary.

Hearing about Zachary's behavior toward me, they felt sorry for me and cared for my fragile self-esteem.

I appreciated them for doing that.

Why did my family, however, never think I should have self-esteem?

In high school, Zachary once made a serious mistake that was on the verge of being expelled.

As Tom and Patricia rushed over, they didn't blame Zachary.

They even called me out, who was in class, and casually picked up a wooden stick and beat me.

The noise was so loud that all the classes stopped. Teachers came out to dissuade them, and students couldn't help but look at us curiously.

Those whispers were like a demonic voice from the depths of hell that made me fall and make mistakes.

How could the teachers who imparted knowledge and cultivated students be any match for the parents who went insane?

The teachers didn't stop them from going crazy.

Tom and Patricia sat on the floor and cried when they got tired of beating me.

They didn't care that this was a school.

When Tom and Patricia looked at me with vicious eyes, I was unconscious.

But I was still standing there like a tree.

I knew I couldn't admit defeat because Zachary was watching the fun.

They were making a big scene outside the classroom and Zachary was just sitting in the back of the classroom, crossing his legs and grinning smugly.

As I looked over at him, he was grinning and making faces at me.

I knew he was saying, "See, you deserve it."

I thought, "Yeah, I did deserve it."

My career and prospects were now gloomy because of the partiality they had shown me over and over again.

I was in no position to resist.

It would be better if I weren't the one.

It would be better if they found out I was a girl before I was born.

Tom and Patricia had made such a scene at the school, despite the humiliation, simply to try to reduce Zachary's punishment.

The process of getting there was humiliating, but it was enough as long as the result was what they wanted.

They even called me out and kicked me harshly after they signed the disciplinary letter.

"You should take care of Zachary from now on. The teacher let Zachary go because of the poverty in our family. If Zachary doesn't graduate from high school, no matter what it takes, even if you go to work as a prostitute, you should earn enough money to buy a house for him."

I was only sixteen at that time, but I was threatened in this way.

By now, I was already being discussed by my classmates as a result.

"No, I want to go to school. Why should I have to ruin my life for his future?"

My resistance was rewarded with a heavier beating.

Tom and Patricia casually grabbed the rope we were going to use for the next gym class.

My thin school uniform couldn't resist it.

My body was left with deep and shallow scars which turned out to be my shame pole following me all the time.