Raymond's POV
I left my father behind and went to meet my friend Jason. We had planned to run a few experiments on me. small, careful tests to uncover the truth of where I truly came from.
He was waiting for me by the village lake. So far, he was my only friend in the entire village.
His parents forbade him from spending time with me, but Jason always disobeyed them. No matter how often they warned him, he continued to stand by my side.
The villagers' hatred for me began when I was twelve years old.
My father and I had gone to visit one of his patients that day. He asked me to wait outside while he tended to the sick man, and
That was when it happened.
Flashback
"Freak."
One of the village boys spat the word at me. I did not respond. By then, it had become their favorite name for me, used every time they wanted to remind me of my place.
"Are we not talking to you, freak?" another boy asked. He seemed to be their leader. "Or have you forgotten your name?"
"Leave me alone," I said quietly, my head bowed. "I am not a freak."
I had learned long ago not to answer them, to keep my eyes down and my mouth shut to avoid a beating.
I didn't know what had come over me that day. Something in me snapped. I was tired of being mocked. Tired of pretending it didn't hurt.
"Look, Jason," James said with a cruel grin. "He can speak."
"Leave him alone, James," Jason said quickly. "You promised you wouldn't bully him again if I helped you carry your school bag and lunch box every day."
I was shocked. Jason was helping me, but why?
I looked up at him, but he turned his face away, unwilling to meet my eyes.
"I promised I wouldn't bully him," James replied, smirking, "as long as he keeps his head down and stays out of my way. Tell me, boys, have I broken my promise?"
"No, James," the others replied in chorus, laughing.
I kept my head down, exhausted by the constant torment. James was the reason I had no friends. Everyone feared him.
I was lost in my thoughts when he suddenly raised his hand.
"Guys, wait."
The laughter died down.
"Raymond," he said slowly, savoring my name, "you cannot deny the fact that you are a freak. My mother told me your parents are wolves. You have no parents. Wolves brought you to our village."
He circled me like a predator.
"Look at you. Who in this village has white hair like yours? Or eyes that color? No one. The village chief is not your father. You are nothing but a bastard with no heritage."
His words cut deeper than any blade.
I felt tears burn my eyes. Maybe because, deep down, I knew he was right. I was different. I always had been.
Even the man I called Father, I didn't look like him at all. I had asked him countless times, and he always said I resembled my mother. Why couldn't I just be like everyone else?
"Do us all a favor," James continued coldly. "Go back to where you came from. You don't belong here. The chief will come to his senses one day and send you away, freak."
He turned to leave.
That final word broke something inside me.
I moved before I could think.
In a blur, I struck him from behind. One punch. That was all it took.
James fell.
I clutched my head, sobbing and shouting, "I belong here! My father will not send me away! I am not a child of a wolf!"
I didn't realize what I had done until I heard the screams.
The boys who had come with James were crying, shouting, some running away in terror. Others stood frozen in place, their faces drained of color.
I searched wildly for the cause of their fear.
Then I saw it.
James lay on the ground, surrounded by a pool of
blood.
It was a sight I never wished to see again.
The noise drew the villagers, many of them including my father.
I still remember their faces when they understood what had happened. The horror in their eyes. Their voices rising together.
"We cannot let this monster live among us."
From that day on, it became their chant.
That day passed in a blur. I remember my father rushing out when he heard the commotion.
The moment he saw James, he began treating him without asking a single question.
He managed to stop the bleeding, and they carried James away.
James survived.
But from that day until now, he never walked again.
I don't know how my father saved him, but he did. And in doing so, my troubles only worsened. The villagers did not just resent me anymore, they feared me.
My father treated James without scolding me. He only warned me about my strength and told me I must learn to control my temper.
The days that followed blurred together. Everywhere I went, I heard whispers. Some villagers even called me a monster to my face.
That incident changed my life forever.
Yet my father never stopped loving me. If anything, he loved me more fiercely than before.
I don't know how he convinced the villagers to let me stay, but for that, I will be forever grateful.