Ita stood there quietly after his stepdad finished speaking.
The happiness he had carried home from the beach and the mall felt like it didn't belong to him anymore. It drained out of his chest, leaving only something heavy behind.
He looked down at the floor.
Guilt crept in slowly.
He still loved his mother.
No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much fear lived inside him when he was near her, she was still his mom. He remembered the rare days when she used to smile at him when he was younger. He remembered small moments when she tucked a blanket over him when he was sick.
Those memories were small now.
But they were still there.
"I'm sorry.." he said softly, his voice almost breaking. "I didn't mean to-"
The first slap cut him off.
It came so suddenly that his head snapped to the side. The sound echoed sharply in the room.
Before he could even react,
Another.
And another.
His mother's hand struck his face over and over, fast and hard. Each hit made his ears ring, his vision blur. He stumbled backward, trying to stay on his feet.
"I feed you!" she shouted. "I take care of you and this is how you repay me?!"
"I'm sorry!" Ita cried, raising his hands weakly as if that could stop it. "I'm really sorry!"
But she didn't stop.
Another hit sent him crashing down onto the floor.
The impact knocked the air out of his lungs. He curled slightly, trying to breathe, trying to steady himself.
"Give me the belt." his mother said sharply, not even looking at him.
His stepdad moved without hesitation.
Ita heard the faint sound of leather sliding free.
His chest tightened.
He knew what was coming.
"Mom… please," Ita whispered, his voice shaking as he tried to push himself up. "Please stop… I won't go again. I promise. I won't-"
The first strike landed across his back.
Pain shot through him, sharp and burning. He gasped, his fingers clawing against the floor.
"I said I'm sorry!" he cried, his voice cracking. "It hurts… please…"
But the belt came down again.
And again.
Each time, he flinched harder, his body curling in on itself, trying to protect whatever it could. His breath came out in broken sounds as he tried to crawl away, but there was nowhere to go.
"Please stop.." he begged, over and over, the words tumbling out of him. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… please…"
Out of the corner of his eye,
Something moved.
On the staircase.
Ita's head turned slightly.
The stair boy was there.
Standing halfway up the steps, exactly like before.
Smiling.
That same wide, unnatural smile that stretched too far across its face. Its head tilted slowly, watching him. Watching everything.
Like this was a show.
Like it was enjoying it.
Ita felt something twist painfully inside his chest.
Humiliation burned hotter than the pain.
The ghost was seeing this.
Seeing him cry. Seeing him beg. Seeing him curled up on the floor like he was nothing.
The stair boy's smile widened.
It looked amused.
Like this was exactly what it wanted.
Finally, the hits stopped.
The room fell quiet except for Ita's uneven breathing.
His mother stepped away, her chest rising and falling quickly, her hand still gripping the belt. Without another word, she turned and walked off, disappearing into the kitchen.
Ita stayed on the floor, shaking.
His body ached. His face was wet with tears he hadn't even noticed falling. He kept his eyes on the ground, too ashamed to look up.
Slow footsteps approached.
His stepdad crouched down beside him.
Ita stiffened.
A hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
"Hey" his stepdad said softly, his voice gentle again. Calm. Caring. The same voice the neighbors always heard. "You shouldn't make your mother so angry."
Ita's hands clenched into fists.
"She worries about you " he continued. "You have to understand that. She just wants you to be a good son."
Ita didn't answer.
He couldn't.
The words felt rotten.
Behind his stepdad, on the stairs, the ghost leaned forward slightly, as if trying to hear better. Its smile hadn't faded at all.
It was mocking him.
Watching him.
Enjoying every second.
His stepdad's hand tightened just a little on his shoulder.
"You belong here." he said quietly. "Don't forget that."
The calmness in his voice made Ita feel sick.
Fear curled in his stomach.
Anger burned under it.
Disgust followed close behind.
All the feelings crashed into each other at once, too much to hold, too much to understand. He wanted to scream. He wanted to push the hand off his shoulder. He wanted to run.
But he didn't move.
He just stayed there, trembling.
Behind them, the stair boy's eyes were fixed on him.
Smiling.
Watching.
Waiting.