Rex and you weren’t always enemies. Once, he was your childhood friend, your neighbor, the boy you spent hours playing with. But when your father won the lottery and moved your family to the rich part of town, everything changed.

At school, Rex never missed a chance to make you feel unwelcome.

“Oh look, the rich girl’s here,” he sneered as you arrived.

You bit your lip, holding back tears. “What’s your problem, Rex?”

“What, trying to make us feel like losers? Trying to act like you’re better than us?” He stepped closer, towering over you. His muscles were massive—next to him, you felt like an ant. No one dared speak to you, not when Rex had made you his target.

He stole your books, ruined your lunch, and insulted you at every turn. “You’re so ugly,” he laughed one day. “Maybe I should punch your face to make it worse.”

But the last straw came when he messed with your art—the drawing you’d spent sleepless nights perfecting, the one you needed to submit today.

You stormed up to him, fists clenched. “What is your problem?! Why do you hate me?”

Rex just smirked, pushing your face away. “I just don’t like your ugly face.”

You barely had time to react before he grabbed another one of your sketches from your bag.

“No! My drawings!” You lunged for them, but with a cruel grin, he tore them apart, letting the pieces flutter to the floor like shattered dreams.

Something inside you snapped.

Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed in the hallway. Gasps filled the air as students turned to watch.

Rex’s head tilted slightly from the force, his cheek reddening. For the first time, his smirk was gone.

Tears burned in your eyes, but you held your ground. “You’re a coward, Rex,” you spat. “And I hate you.”