Chapter 1: One
My name is Wang Yibo. It is my nature to be a loner, not by choice, but because of the many events that have unfolded throughout my brief life.
I lost my grandparents in a car accident when I was eight. It was enjoyable to have them over every weekend for dinner. My parents. In most cases, we would sit by the fireplace and tell stories. I have always been very expressive about animals. When talking about rabbits, I was very detailed. I was obsessed with them. I still find them extremely cute.
When I could, I would steal a kiss from my grandmother and grandfather. It was a pleasure to feel their hugs and to smell their sweet scents. My mood was always bright when I was there. Each holiday, I ran downstairs and eagerly awaited my grandparents. It was more meaningful to me to have them than to receive any other presents. I guess I was just a victim of any kind of affection. My parents used to laugh at how clingy I was. It is impossible to resist chuckling when I think of the wonderful moments we have shared over the years.
There was a night in December when my grandparents were coming over for dinner. It seems as if I was glued to the glass of the front door like some sort of plunger. As the snowflakes drifted from the gloomy sky, I watched them fall to the pavement. It had already been eight-thirty and my grandparents hadn't arrived. I assumed they were just being cautious because my parents warned them about the slippery roads. It was not until about ten that night that we received a call reporting a crash. As my dad rushed out the door, he had a look of distress unlike any I've ever seen before. Due to my inability to process what was happening at that moment, I stood still. It wasn't long before my mom tucked me into the living room to watch TV. Despite her attempts to comfort me, she seemed more afraid than I was. Despite my confusion, I fell asleep on the couch.
The door opened about an hour later and chatter came from the same direction, so I crept over and poked my head out. As he forcefully spoke, my father looked shocked. Our world was shaken by what he said? He confirmed the death of my grandparents. She broke out in tears, and I followed behind, startling my unsuspecting parents. My mom snuggled over to me and embraced me while I cried.
It was after that night that everything unraveled. Eventually, my father developed a drinking problem because of deep depression. Without my mom by my side, I could never fall asleep without crying my eyes out for thirty minutes at night. She held it together better than any of us.
With every passing day, things only got more difficult. My dad eventually got fired from his job. He had a lot of trouble finding another, and when he finally did, we had to move across the country. We bought an apartment and moved in some of the stuff from our previous house. We recently purchased a new home that differed completely from the previous one. Because of my father's desire to save money, he bought a cheap house. As soon as I entered the dingy-looking apartment, a musky smell filled the air. I'm not used to this kind of environment. It was my privilege to grow up in a clean, comfortable home for the first nine years of my life. The apartment had mold, not to mention the loud neighbors. It was not a complete loss because my room had a much better layout. Despite this, the first few nights were hard for me to sleep properly. Sleeping in an unfamiliar place made me feel uneasy.
I listened to what I thought was the neighbor arguing one night when I was struggling to fall asleep. It occurred to me it was not them, but my parents. I became concerned when they fought, since it was uncommon for them to do so. As I curled up under my blanket, I hoped I would fall asleep. It wasn't until I heard a yelp and a shatter that the noise finally subsided. After a moment of silence, I heard my mother crying in the doorway to her bedroom. To comfort her, I waddled out of bed and down the hallway. As I asked her what had happened, she continued to assure me that everything was alright, and that I did not need to worry.
Although I knew she was lying, my question was answered days later when my father beat her in front of me. I screamed "Dad, stop!". You are harming her!". Obviously, I was awarded a backhand into the table because of that. Immediately, my mother jumped to my side to see if I was okay. Afterwards, she told me not to approach him when they are fighting or when she is not present.
During the next two years, the beatings continued. I am not sure how she could pull through, but she did. The whole time, she comforted me. It's all about making sure I'm okay. Even though I wished I could do something, I would only end up getting in her way if I tried to do anything for her.
Around that time, things started getting better. My dad slowed down his drinking and lowered his temper. Eventually, my dad took control of himself, and my mom didn't get a bruise.
During our trip to the zoo, I could observe adorable rabbits wandering around. Getting as close to them as possible was a very memorable part of my experience. It felt as if my tender heart was going to burst with happiness. It was so exciting for us as a family, and my mother was giggling at my excitement. We started conversing again; we watched movies together, and we could all finally sleep comfortably.
My heart started weighing heavy around the time I turned twelve, and I noticed I had feelings... towards men. While I wished to wait before telling my parents, this seemed to be the right time to do so. The next morning, I hesitantly made my way down to the living room. Since my parents were both up and eating breakfast, it seemed like the time to reach out to them. "Mom, dad, I must tell you something." I began, looking afraid between them; at that point, there was no turning back.
"What is it, sweetie?" she asked, digging into a bowl of cereal. My dad just looked at me, waiting for me to speak. I paused for a moment before uttering the next few words.
"I... I think am g-gay". There was a sudden hush in the room. My mother opened her mouth, and my father showed an unreadable look on his face. Suddenly, my mother stood up and hugged me. "It is alright. I accept you, so there is no need to be concerned." She exclaimed. That's okay?" A weight lifted off my chest when she supported me. A few seconds later, the weight slammed back on me.
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" His words were filled with anger, and I was terrified. That's a word I'd never heard my dad use before.
The only thing I could say before my knees gave up on me was "I-I...". It was a sign that I was not kidding him.
In an aggressive manner, he repeatedly stated, "You do not know what you are saying, you do not know what you are saying." With both hands on his head and pacing vigorously. Having known what would happen, my mom was just as shocked as I was and did not dare stand in his way.
I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry dad! I repeated it several times before he sent a plate flying at me.
"This is going to end our bloodline. I am an only child and so are you. You can't be a faggot." And when my mom twitched at the last part, giving me notice. My dad shouted foul things at her. How can you just accept that your only son is a living piece of shit? It hurts me beyond belief to hear those words. It wasn't long before I started weeping.
After finishing with her, he approached me with a hostile look for the first time, which caused me to freeze upright on my spot. Grabbing my neck, he smashed me against the wall, knocking pictures out, and I squirmed for air when his fist struck my stomach. As my mother called out to him and pleaded with him not to hurt me, the scene eventually died down because of his need to leave for work. She kept reassuring me everything was fine. After that day, everything turned dark.
My father started drinking again, and the beating got more intense and extended to me as well. My mom eventually quit her job because people were asking about the bruises on her body. Twice, she considered filing a report with the police. However, she was threatened that if anyone started poking into our affairs, he'd punish them.
Two years have passed. Because of all the beatings, my mother was becoming weak. Being fourteen years old, and getting taller, I try to step in and take most of the punches. I wasn't strong enough to stop him. All I could do was take the hits. It surprised me and my mother that he had not grown tired of beating us by now.
One night, my mother came into my room to check on me, and we talked for a while. Since I was young and extremely hormonal at the time I came out, she asked if my feelings towards men had changed. There was no doubt in my mind that I was gay. As the door opened, we heard a loud noise, which led us to look toward my father. Standing outside my doorway, he had an unreadable expression on his face.
I need to talk to you; he said in a frightening tone, and she hesitantly got up from the floor and followed him downstairs. He shut my door and told me not to leave. I was very concerned about that. In case something happened to my mother, I positioned myself against the door, ready to rush to her aid. I couldn't make out everything he said, but I got the gist. He told her to leave the house, and if he ever saw her near me or the house again, he would go all out on me. Fear struck my leg, and I could not stand up. While she was packing her things, I reached out to my mum and begged her not to go. She hugged me one last time before leaving through the front door, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was the only thing that kept me stable. I knew a life without her would lead to little or no affection.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone