Soft sunlight filtered through the classroom windows of Green Heaven Child Academy. Children’s laughter mixed with the scratching of pencils and the chatter of young voices. The scene felt warm, innocent—yet a quiet voice began to narrate, calm but heavy with reflection.
From a very young age, I was taught one thing—
to look down on everyone around .
The young Logan, only six years old, sat at a desk near the window. His uniform was spotless, his posture perfect. The teacher smiled at him often, while the other kids whispered about his father’s wealth and power. Logan’s small eyes held a trace of arrogance already—sothing carefully planted.
I rember it...
I still rember it clearly now.
My first ever friend.
The classroom faded slightly, colors softening as Logan’s eyes turned toward a cheerful boy sitting beside him—a boy with bright eyes and an easy smile.
And that was Lian Tashreen.
The faint sound of a bell rang in the background — Ding-ding! — as the mory deepened, and the story of who Logan once was began to unfold.
***
Yeah... that was my first friend. The only one who ever looked at without comparing.
The soft echo of children’s laughter faded into the quiet rustle of wind brushing over an open field. The afternoon sun hung lazily over Green Heaven Child Academy, painting the grass in shades of gold.
The young Logan lay flat on the grassy field, arms spread wide, eyes half-closed against the sunlight. Around him, the playground had emptied; only the distant voices of other kids could be heard faintly.
I was alone.
A shadow suddenly fell across his face. Logan blinked and squinted upward. Standing there, with a grin brighter than the sun itself, was a boy with ssy hair and curious eyes.
"Hey, why are you lying here alone?"
The voice was light, innocent—without a hint of judgnt. Logan blinked again, caught off guard.
That was the first ti Lian talked to .
The breeze picked up, brushing through the grass as the scene held—two children under the warm sky, one smiling, the other silent, unaware that this small mont will mark the beginning of everything that would co after.
Logan ignored Lian and closed his eyes again.
"Hey, are you ignoring ?"
The voice was clear, curious, and lighthearted.
Logan opened one eye lazily and said, "I don’t talk with the lowly family’s boys."
There was a short silence. Then, the boy—Lian—spoke again, his tone calm but firm.
"Hey, that’s rude. You shouldn’t say that to soone. We’re all human, aren’t we? So everyone’s the sa here."
For a mont, the sound of the wind faded from Logan’s ears. He blinked at Lian, words stuck in his throat.
Yeah... that’s how his mind was setup.
I was surprised...
I was really surprised.
For the first ti in my life...
Soone told that all humans were equal.
The faint sound of rustling leaves echoed again—swish, swish—as Logan stared at the boy who had just said sothing no one in his world ever dared to say.
What a weird boy.
And from that day on, Lian always followed .
***
The next afternoon, I lay on the sa grassy field again, eyes closed, feeling the soft breeze brush against my face. The sound of footsteps approached, light and familiar.
Tap, tap.
I sighed. "Hey, why are you here?"
"Huh? What are you saying? I’m here because I want to, though?" Lian replied, sitting cross-legged beside as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
I frowned, annoyed. "Just leave. This spot is mine."
Lian tilted his head. "Is your father the owner of this land?"
"Huh?"
That caught off guard. I stood up abruptly, brushed the grass off my uniform, and started walking away. But when I glanced back—there he was again, following right behind .
No matter where I went...
After a while, irritation bubbled over. I turned sharply toward him. "Hey, why are you following now?"
"I didn’t follow you," he said innocently. "I’m just walking on the road, though."
My face twitched. "You... You..."
No matter what I did... he always followed .
And sohow... that persistence—though irritating—never really felt bad.
***
Ti passed. And we beca friends.
At a small computer café—dim lights, humming machines, and the clicking of keyboards filling the air.
Click-clack. Tap-tap-tap.
That was the first ti I had ever stepped into a computer café.
The faint sll of instant noodles and cheap air freshener hung around, and the glow from the monitors painted our faces in blue light.
Lian sat beside , focused, tongue sticking out slightly as he moved the mouse. "Haha! Got you!"
"Hey, no fair! You camped there!" I shouted back, leaning forward in frustration.
Lian laughed, "All’s fair in war and gas, my friend!"
We kept playing—laughing, shouting, cursing at each other every ti one of us lost.
"Damn it!"
"Take that!"
"Haha! Not this ti!"
Yeah...
It was fun.
It was really fun.
For the first ti, I felt what friendship truly ant.
***
Everything was going well.
Click—flash.
We ran down the narrow streets of Cumilla, laughter echoing through the air.
We shared snacks, splashed each other with water from a roadside tap, played football until the sun sank behind the buildings.
Together, we did many things.
Rustle.
Thud.
Laughter.
Every mont felt endless—like those days would never fade.
Yeah... everything was going too well.
But who knew...
Those happy monts would disappear overnight.
In the blink of an eye—
everything shattered.
***
The world warped into a cold, dark room. A single, harsh lightbulb hung overhead, casting long shadows. A cry of pain hung in the stale air.
Logan stood frozen, his eyes wide with paralyzing shock. Before him, Lian Tashreen was slumped against the wall, already bruised and bleeding. Lian’s head was wrenched back by a small, elegant hand, grasping his hair tightly. It was herin Mizraan, Logan’s mother.
She wore a look of detached disgust as she addressed her son, her voice carrying a cold, polished venom. "My boy, you beca too weak. How could you stay with a lowly life like him? You should always crush the weak."
Logan couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He wouldn’t cry out, but the tears, hot and slow, silently cut tracks through the dirt on his cheeks as he watched.
herin’s eyes narrowed, noticing the moisture. "Are you crying, Logan? No, that won’t do." She moved her contemptuous gaze to Lian. "This is all your fault, you lowly life. How dare you try to make my child like you."
Lian gasped, his body tensing in anticipation of the next blow. herin bent down, plucking a hot iron from a nearby burner—the dark tal glowing faintly. She pressed it down onto Lian’s arm. A horrific, choked scream tore through the silence. The sll of burning flesh instantly filled the dark room.
"How dare a non-awakened like you stay around my child?" Her voice was cold. "I’LL ERASE YOUR WHOLE FAMILY FROM THIS WORLD."
I...
I was too much of a coward...
The torture to Lian was too cruel.
I was too coward that I couldn’t even do anything.
I watched everything happen and did nothing. The mory tasted like tal.
By morning the world had shifted. Overnight, my family’s cruelty was answered with sothing worse: Logan’s family wiped out Lian’s entire family, including him. The town whispered it afterward—an ugly rumor that spread like oil on water—but I never forgot the sound of Lian’s scream or the way my mother’s face had looked when she leaned in close.
Those happy days vanished in a single night. What had been laughter was replaced with ashes, and sothing inside folded and hardened in the dark.
***
And from that day on, I started bullying the weak.
I didn’t want to do it...
I really didn’t like it...
But if I didn’t, the sa fate would co again.
At first it was small things: snatching a scrap of soone’s lunch, pushing a smaller kid off the path so the elders would notice who belonged to whom. The sounds were cheap and common — the slap of sandals on concrete, the muffled sob, the quick, guilty laughter that tried to sound triumphant: thud... scuffle... sniff...
Then it escalated. I learned the language of fear and power: who to push, who to humiliate, when to show my teeth and when to smile. I learned how to make people look down, how to make an entire classroom flatten itself so my family’s na could pass without blemish. I watched mothers pull their children close; I watched faces turn away. Each small victory felt like dicine for the hole inside , but it never filled anything. It only carved new hollows.
Those mories...
I wanted to forget all of those mories...
So I changed.
Not because I was brave, or because I believed in anything noble. I changed because fear had taught how to survive, and survival had beco the only rule I knew. I traded the boy I once was for sothing more efficient — sharper, colder. I cultivated a look, an attitude, a posture that kept eyes off the things I couldn’t bear to see. I learned the words that made people step back. I learned how to use the na my mother held like a shield.
At night, when the streetlamps humd and the world narrowed down to the rhythm of my own breath, I sotis felt Lian’s voice in the wind — the stupid, stubborn kindness that had once irritated . It stabbed; then it went quiet.
I told myself it was necessary. I told myself that this was the only language that mattered in our world. But the truth sat heavy in my chest, a constant, dull ache that no amount of triumph could erase.
***
After that day, everything changed.
The once quiet, kind boy nad Logan Mizraan had vanished.
In his place stood soone else — soone who laughed when others cried, who kicked the fallen instead of helping them up.
I beca what I hated...
The young Logan in middle school, surrounded by classmates. His voice echoes coldly through the corridor as he pushed a boy to the ground.
"Get out of my way, trash."
The others laugh — fake laughter — the kind that hid fear.
But inside, Logan’s eyes trembled.
Every ti soone cried...
Every ti soone looked at him the way Lian once did...
He rembered that burning iron.
That scream.
I thought if I acted strong... if I beca the one who hurts others first...
Then maybe no one could hurt again.
He clenched his fists. His knuckles were trembling.
And as years passed, that trembling turned into habit.
Cruelty beca armor.
Arrogance beca a mask.
And the real —
the coward who couldn’t save his only friend —
disappeared behind it all.
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