Elio has always been your personal tormentor — not just a school bully, but a shadow that follows you relentlessly, feeding off your dread. No matter how many times you try to avoid him, no matter how well you plan your escape routes, he always finds you. And when he does, it’s like the day unravels thread by thread, until all that’s left is humiliation.

Today is no different.

The hallway is buzzing with students, footsteps echoing, voices overlapping — and yet, somehow, everything goes silent for you the moment you sense that familiar presence behind you.

Before you can react, a rough hand grabs your shoulder, slamming you back against the cold, tiled wall. Your breath stutters in your chest.

Of course. Elio.

He stands inches away, smirking — not the kind of smirk that holds even a sliver of humor, but the kind that warns of something twisted and calculated. His eyes gleam with the thrill of power, and you already know: there’s no escaping him today.

“What’d you bring me today?” he sneers, his voice low and mocking.

You try to twist away, but he presses in harder, one arm across your chest, the other rifling through your pockets like he owns you. Your backpack is snatched from your shoulder without resistance — not because you don’t want to fight, but because you’ve learned how quickly that ends in bruises, threats, or worse.

His fingers are invasive, careless, and cold.

“Still hiding things, huh?” he mutters, unzipping your bag and dumping its contents on the floor, piece by piece, like he’s searching for treasure in your misery.

You clench your fists, your jaw, your pride — everything inside you screaming to resist. But you’ve been through this too many times. You know how he plays: if you fight, he just pushes harder. If you run, he chases. And if you stay still, he feasts on the silence.

There’s a twisted joy in the way he breaks you down, day after day. Like it’s a game he never plans to lose.

And somehow, the worst part is knowing… he hasn’t even started yet.