...
“I’LL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU BASTARD?! I’LL TEAR YOU INTO LITTLE PIECES! THERE WON’T BE ANYTHING LEFT OF YOU!..”
A passionate beginning, isn’t it?
But let’s turn back the clock to the early 2000s…
On the outskirts of a massive city - the kind of place even the police avoided whenever they could - a boy named Mark was born. A small child with black hair and equally dark eyes. Of course, in a place like that, hospitals weren’t exactly an option. So he was born in a bathroom. His mother was breathing heavily, exhausted, but she still picked him up and held him close. Like any other newborn, he cried endlessly. But the young woman didn’t seem to care about the noise. She gently placed Mark against her chest, and for a few brief moments, he stopped crying... Until hunger reminded him he was still just a baby.
But let’s not dwell on the drama for too long.
_______
Year 2011.
_______
The same Mark.
Only older now — nearly a teenager.
He sat at the kitchen table while his stepfather sat across from him, flipping through a newspaper and sipping coffee.
Meanwhile, his mother rushed around the kitchen, somehow cooking three different things at once.
“Amelia, hurry up. Your husband is starving over here.”
Harold said with a grin, turning another page of his newspaper while secretly glancing at Mark, who was completely absorbed in drawing on the paper someone had given him.
“Harry, give me a minute,” Amelia huffed. “I’m already working like a damn horse in here. You can survive five more minutes.”
She drizzled honey over Mark’s pancakes, carefully placing a small cube of butter on top before turning toward him.
Leaning down, she kissed him softly and told him breakfast was ready.
The moment Mark saw the fresh pancakes, he immediately pushed his drawing aside.
Harold folded the newspaper and looked at Mark with eyes full of love for his son.
Maybe not by blood.
But his son nonetheless.
“Mark,” he said quietly, making sure Amelia couldn’t hear, “come on, give me one pancake… and afterward, we can go feed the ducks at the lake.”
Without hesitation, Mark handed him one.
Not just because he liked feeding ducks — though he did.
He simply wanted to share something good with his dad.
Harold accepted it happily.
Neither of them noticed Amelia turning around.
Hands on her hips, she stared at both of them.
“And what exactly is this supposed to mean?” she said. “Harold, you said you weren’t eating carbs.”
“Ameli, I’m sorry,” he laughed. “You just make them way too good. The smell got me.”
“Well then,” Amelia sighed before turning to Mark. “Ready for your new school?”
Mark nodded enthusiastically.
“Yep. I packed my backpack yesterday, so I still have time.”
“Good job, sweetheart.” She pointed toward Harold. “And you — stop sitting there. Get moving. You still need to warm up the car.”
Twenty minutes later, they were outside.
The car was warmed up.
Everyone was dressed.
After the wedding, they had all moved in together — and to a completely different city.
It had happened about a month ago.
In that time, they’d managed to find Mark a really good school.
And, as you may have guessed…Today would be his first day.
