Ita stayed on the floor for a long time after his mother walked away.
His ears still rang. His body ached. Every breath felt tight, like something was pressing down on his chest. He kept his eyes lowered, trying to steady himself, trying not to cry again.
But then his stepdad spoke again, soft and calm, like nothing had happened.
"You shouldn't upset her like that " he said gently. "You know how sensitive your mom is."
Something inside Ita snapped.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
And for the first time, there was no fear in his eyes.
Only hatred.
Raw. Burning. Sharp.
"I hate you" Ita said, his voice rough and shaking.
The words surprised even him.
But once they were out, they didn't stop.
"I hate you " he repeated, louder this time. "I hate you so much."
The room went completely still.
His stepdad's expression changed. The calm mask cracked for just a second.
"What did you say?" he asked quietly.
"I hate you." Ita said again, his chest rising and falling. "I hate this house. I hate everything."
The slap came fast.
His head snapped to the side, pain flashing across his cheek. For a moment, the world spun.
But he didn't take the words back.
His stepdad's breathing had changed now , heavier, sharper. His hand was still raised, his jaw tight.
Then, just as suddenly, his expression softened again.
Like a switch had flipped.
He sighed, crouching down again, voice low and almost apologetic.
"I didn't mean to do that." he murmured. "You just said something that hurt me."
Ita didn't answer.
His whole body felt cold.
His stepdad reached forward and placed both hands on Ita's cheeks, holding his face in place. His touch was firm, forcing Ita to look at him.
"You're just confused " he said gently. "You don't really hate me."
Ita's stomach twisted.
The closeness made his skin crawl.
He shoved the hands away sharply.
"Don't touch me! " he snapped.
The reaction was instant.
His stepdad's face darkened again.
Before Ita could move, a fist struck across his face, sending him back against the wall. Pain burst through his head, making his vision blur.
For a moment, everything went quiet.
Then,
"I'm sorry " his stepdad said again, too quickly. "I didn't mean to. You just made me angry. You know how I get when I'm upset."
The words sounded wrong.
Empty.
Like they didn't mean anything at all.
Ita barely had time to react before his stepdad grabbed his face again, holding him still.
And then,
He leaned in.
The contact was sudden and wrong, lasting only a moment before he pulled away and stood up like nothing had happened.
Ita froze.
He couldn't breathe.
His stepdad straightened his shirt, his voice calm again.
"Don't say things like that again." he said quietly. "You don't mean them."
Then he turned and walked away.
Just like that.
Leaving Ita sitting there on the floor, shaking.
Every emotion crashed into him at once.
Fear.
Disgust.
Anger.
Shame.
His chest tightened painfully, and suddenly he couldn't stay there anymore.
He scrambled to his feet and ran.
Straight to the bathroom.
He barely made it to the sink before he felt sick. He leaned forward, gripping the edges as his stomach turned, his whole body trembling.
When it finally stopped, he stayed there, breathing hard, staring at his reflection.
His face was pale.
His lip trembled.
Slowly, he raised his hand and wiped at his mouth again and again, like he was trying to erase the feeling.
Like he could make it disappear.
"I hate him." he whispered to himself.
His voice broke.
"I hate him."
He pressed his hand over his lips, scrubbing harder, his breath shaking.
"I hate him."
The words repeated in his head over and over.
He hated him.
He hated the way he talked.
The way he pretended.
The way he acted kind in front of others.
Everything about him felt wrong. Disgusting. Suffocating.
Ita slid down to the floor, pulling his knees close to his chest, his hand still covering his mouth like he could keep the memory from staying there.
He stayed like that for a long time.
Alone.
Trying to breathe.
Trying not to cry.
Trying to forget.