Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

Compared to the shy way Emily used to say "thank you," her voice was much clearer now as she read the text.

Through the door, I could picture her sitting upright at her desk, totally engrossed in her book. I placed the cupcakes at the door, knocked lightly twice, and then quickly ran to the next floor. After a bit, I heard the door creak open. "Who is it?" Emily asked cautiously.novelbin

I pressed myself against the hallway wall, holding my breath, staying silent. For the past two years, I'd been keeping an eye on her and doing these little things, but she had no clue about me. After a while, I heard the door close. Taking a few quiet steps up, I peeked and saw the cupcakes were gone. As I walked downstairs and hopped on my bike to leave, I instinctively glanced up at her window. To my surprise, she was peeking out. I nervously looked down, pedaled fast, and rode out of Broadway Alley.

I thought to myself, 'Why am I so nervous?'

Honestly, I could totally be friends with Emily, care for her, and protect her. After all, she didn't know who I was or the truth. But I just didn't have the guts, probably because I was scared she'd see through my guilt.

Just like before, when I finally got the courage to offer to walk her home, Emily didn't even look up at me. Her shyness and my guilt meant we would never interact directly. I rode my bike to the hospital. Martin wasn't in his office; I heard he was in surgery, so I sat in the office waiting.

The office walls were covered with tons of certificates, all of Martin's honors. I didn't know how long I waited, but Martin finally came back, taking off his gloves as he walked in. He looked tired but was pleasantly surprised to see me. Martin said, "Ethan, what brings you here?"

I handed him the cupcakes.

"Mom asked me to bring this. Grandpa, can you come home for dinner after the surgery? Mom's cooking."

Martin sat behind his desk, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and flipped through the medical records on the desk, saying, "There's another surgery later, the patient is waiting. I can't go home now."

Then Martin asked, "Has your dad gone back?"

I stood up and said, "I was just about to call him."

Martin slammed the medical record on the table, somewhat angrily, and said, "You must get him back for me. You're already grown up, and he still acts irresponsibly!"

Martin knew all about Victor's craziness. I never got why Victor's temperament and character were nothing like Martin's, and I was nothing like Victor. By the time I left the hospital and got to the stone factory, it was already late. I immediately spotted Victor's car parked in front of the bungalow.

I knocked on the door. Victor asked who it was from inside, but I didn't answer. I was feeling stubborn and rebellious, not wanting to talk to him. After a bit, the door finally opened, and I caught a glimpse of panic on Victor's face. "What are you doing here?"

I quickly scanned the small room; no one else was there. Linda and her kid must have been sent back by him. I had a suspicion, so I pushed him aside and walked in, searching everywhere. Victor scolded me, angry that I didn't respect him, but I ignored him.

When I pulled back his blanket, it immediately revealed what he had hidden inside. I was filled with rage, clenching my fists, barely holding back the urge to hit him. I grabbed the stuff and was about to throw it out. Victor held onto my arm tightly, and in the struggle, the powdery substance scattered all over the floor.

Victor, as if he had lost something precious, got down on the floor and started picking up the stuff bit by bit, heartbroken. I hated how he lost all his dignity when he touched that stuff.

I was so angry, my chest felt like it was going to explode. Locking the door, I dragged a rope out from under the bed, pulled Victor up from the floor, and forced him into a chair, preparing to tie him up.

He barked, "How dare you! I'm your father!"

Victor resisted and cursed at me, but at 15, I was already half a head taller than him. He was no longer my match. This wasn't the first time I tied him up. The last time he had a drug relapse and hit Cindy, that was the first time I tied him up. I didn't dare do it in front of Cindy, so it also happened in this room.

Ever since he started using drugs, he sometimes behaved like a completely different person. At times, he was overly submissive, and at other times, he was aggressively volatile. I had already learned to tell right from wrong, so I felt it was really unfair to Cindy.

He said I would go to hell, but I wasn't afraid. I didn't want him to continue like this, didn't want him to bully Cindy anymore. I felt I was doing the right thing; my only goal was to make him quit using drugs.

There were so many stories of families being torn apart by this stuff. Home didn't feel like home anymore, and I was really worried we'd end up like that. Victor was tied to the chair, unable to move, and he cursed at me, spewing all kinds of nasty words. I just stood there, letting him hurl insults without responding.

I didn't curse back or hit him; tying him up was my last resort. Cindy always taught me about respecting our elders, and I saw how she treated them with such respect. If it weren't for those values she instilled in me, I would've hit him a long time ago.

I stayed silent because he knew I just wanted a promise from him. Even though his promises meant nothing to me, I still hoped he'd make a sincere one at that moment.

The workers were leaving, and as they passed by, they told Victor to go home. They probably saw the car still outside and knew he hadn't left yet.

I didn't say anything, and Victor didn't respond either. He probably didn't want the workers to see him in such a sorry state.

After the workers left, everything quieted down, and it was completely dark.

Victor eventually got tired of cursing and finally stopped.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Ethan, Victor, are you there?"

It was Cindy's voice. She must have been worried because I hadn't come back so late.

Since the incident with Victor and Linda, Cindy hadn't come to the stone factory, probably to avoid seeing something that would upset her.

Victor glared at me. I didn't want to let him go easily this time. But Cindy's knocking was urgent, and I didn't want her to worry, so I eventually untied Victor and opened the door.

Cindy looked at me and then at Victor, suspiciously asking, "What were you doing? Why did it take so long to open the door?"

"I didn't do well on my exam, and Dad was scolding me." I threw out an excuse and went to get my bike.

Behind me, Cindy said, "Victor, today is Ethan's birthday. Come home early for dinner."

Victor locked the door and went to start the car. My mom called me to put my bike in the back of Victor's car and ride home with him.

I ignored her and rode off on my bike. That night, it was just the three of us at the dinner table. I couldn't remember the last time we had a meal together; most of the time, it was just Cindy and me. Because of the earlier conflict, Victor looked at me with hatred during dinner.

If I had a choice, I really wouldn't want to be his son. Cindy probably sensed something was wrong and tried to lighten the mood with a smile.

"This time you didn't do well, but you can try harder next time. Ethan, tell me, how did your test go?"

I put down my fork, pulled my backpack over, and handed her the report card without any expression.

"Straight A's. Getting all A's is pretty good."

Cindy was pleasantly surprised, staring at my report card and even showing it to Victor.

She said with a smile, "Victor, Ethan's excellent. You can't expect too much; our son has worked hard enough."

Victor didn't show any pride; instead, he slammed his fork down and went upstairs.

Cindy looked at Victor's back in confusion, afraid I would be too disappointed, and kept comforting me. "Ethan, you're really great! Keep it up!"

No matter how hard I tried, he would never be proud of me. I always knew that. In the middle of the night, I was awakened by a sudden noise. Hearing the car start, I got out of bed and went to the window, seeing Victor driving away. I faintly heard Cindy crying. I walked to their bedroom door and found Cindy sitting on the floor, crying and coughing. I went over to help her and saw several bruises on her body.

I said angrily, "Did he hit you again?"

Cindy leaned against the bed, crying her heart out. I looked around their room, and the walls still had their wedding photos hanging. Victor wasn't always this bad. Ever since he started using drugs, he became more and more irritable and less and less concerned about the family.

Hatred surged within me, and I said, "Mom, I don't want him as my dad anymore."

My mom's crying stopped abruptly, and she grabbed my hand. "Ethan, you can't say that. He's done some foolish things, but he's still your dad, and I still love him. As long as he wants this family, I can endure it."

I really didn't understand how Cindy could tolerate so much. Was it really just because of love? Cindy probably also worried about me; she wanted to keep the family together for my sake.

Cindy started coughing violently again, and when she opened her hand from covering her mouth, there was blood.

"Mom." I was terrified.

Cindy wiped the blood from her mouth and smiled, trying to comfort me. "It's nothing. Don't tell your grandpa, so he doesn't worry."

I went to get Cindy some hot water and her medicine. After fussing around until midnight and making sure Cindy was asleep, I went back to my room but couldn't sleep. I took a small box from under the bed, which had a small lock on it. Inside were secrets only I knew. I found the key from a hidden spot and opened the box.