Lockeroom's Pandemonium

Chapter forty one: Jiero's Chaos

Jiero Makabuhay is only a child.

Yet, despite his young age, he knew that the world is but of a place were chaos exists. Every parts of the world, violence were inevitable.

He made himself prepared of it.

He made himself tough.

But the real world is more harsh than what he imagined.

Emotions is a thing that not everyone would be able to control. And that includes him.

He is a child who thought could control the pain that he was feeling—he could, if it was about a physical pain.

But when in terms of the emotional pain, he was nothing but a knee-weak child: easy to cry and sob when mocked and bullied.

Ever since he started schooling, his classmates found him weird. He was too intelligent. He was too accurate of his every moves, plans, and even his predictions. The teachers love him so much.

Who would not? Teachers loves smart and genius students—until that one instance, where all the compliments and praises suddenly turned words of hatred and disgust.

His classmates never liked him. They were jealous of him; of his intelligence and his skills. He is the brightest of them. He is the star. But for some if his classmates, he is a porcelain star that by few poke from the highest part of the sky, would broke and shatter into pieces.

He is a fragile child. His classmates knew it.

And so they bullied him.

—

“Jiero! Why did you do this to us!” He was sitting on the dark corner of the room. He just heard Silver shouting and telling them to be safe, but he was filled with something—his own anxiety. His own nightmare. His own past.

—

He was just a young child. But he already experienced bullying.

Among his classmates, three of them were the worst in terms of bullying him.

They were the big guys of the room. They were the elementary goons who did nothing but to find someone they could pock a fight, or someone whom they can bully.

Unfortunately, Jiero is existing.

Everytime they could find opportunity where they can bully Jiero, they will be doing it in their own will.

Everytime their teachers would not be around, he would receive the worst combination of torture: physical bully from the goons, and his classmate's laugh as they were watching how he was bullied.

—

“Jiero!” As he sat on the dark corner of the room, someone was angrily whispering in his ears. He just wished Alina or Silver was right beside him, so that he could ask for help. So that he could grip someone's arms as his nightmare was ruthlessly attacking him.

—

For the time being, Jiero let his bully classmate do whatever they wanted to do.

They call their bullying as the ‘divine punishment for someone who has angel's wings but with demon's tail.’

The first thing he received from the ‘divine punishment' is what the bullies call ‘divine punch of the lawmakers'.

Then, each of them gave the poor child one strong punch at his face. That time, he suddenly possessed fun-poking black circle enveloping the left part of his eyes.

“Is he a panda?” asked one of the bullies as soon as they saw the black circle at his eye. The amount of mockery seen at his face is indescribable.

“Perhaps. But we shouldn't care. He was just nothing in this room,” said one of the three bullies.

“Maybe we can help him. Let's put another black circle in his eyes.”

Jiero swallowed his own saliva as soon as he heard that. Indeed, he was able to withstand the pain that those punches had given him, but, he also felt the pain of it. He knew how painful those punches are. And he don’t want that to happen again.

But bullies are not bullies if they haven't made someone suffering from pain and fear.

For the second time, Jiero received series of punches; of hitting by the big enclosed fists from his classmates.

That time, Jiero’s tears came up—sign that he was weak as well. That he is not a god who can suppress whatever pain they received. He was just a normal child.

But his tears made his classmates make fun of him more; mocked him more; hate him more.

It was a bug question how do his classmates know how to execute chaos and disparity to someone, even though they were still single-digit aged children.

It was as if laughing to someone's pain is the normal thing to do.

—

“Jiero! Please help us!”

“Jiero! This is your fault!”

The ghosts kept appearing at Jiero's front. Still, he was sitting at the corner of the dark room, afraid.

‘Please someone help,’ he shouted in his mind.

—

Jiero was a well-versed man. Amidst being a child, he could already speak with conviction.

A lot of older than him, finds him really captivating, and cute, for he was just too small as he stood at the center stage for a certain event.

He was once a jolly person, despite knowing how he was more intelligent and advanced (and even matured) than the other people in his surrounding.

But by the time he was experiencing bullying, he changed.

The bright aura of his eyes turned dim and dead. His once energetic body turned slumped and sluggish.

It has been three months since the first time he experienced being bullied—since the first time he tasted the ‘divine punch of the lawmakers'.

Now, he cannot assure if he was already used to the pain that he has been suffering since later months. The bullying continued. The three of his goon classmates is the leader of all who is bullying him.

He then became the subject of it.

Even other students that was not his classmates, were already making fun of him.

He already bathed in paint, in garbages, sat on a chair where fresh glue was smeared in the surface, being hit in the body multiple times, even threaten his own life.

No elder knew what he is suffering from. Maybe someone is aware of it, but simply doesn't care.

He have no one to talk to, to ask for help—fir simply because he have no idea how.

Until one day, he discovered that his speech was impaired. He knew and understand the syntax and its rule. But his mind failed to execute it as he try to speak.

The words coming out of his mouth were defective; grammatically incorrect.

And he was furious. He was angry of the world. He was angry of the fact, why would he need to suffer all of this hardships that other children doesn't have to experience.

He was too disappointed with the world to the point that . . . he thought of killing his own self. He realized how worthless he is. How his life was nothing but a single garbage.

That exact day he discovered he was having trouble with how he should speak properly, the goons had dragged him from his collar.

Without any energy, he willingly submitted. Until they reached the school's backyard.

“Hey perfect boy,” said one of his bullies.

The one in the middle laid his palm wide open as smirk was being plastered at his face. “Give me your money. I want to eat some snacks.”

That time, Jiero put end at his long-term silence.

By looking at the smug faces of his classmates, he realized that he doesn't want to be bullied anymore. He have to be strong and tough. In the first place, he should not let those bullies treat him like that.

He scowled at the front of the man who was showing his palm at him.

Then, he said, “I money have no!”

The three bully started to stare at each other. Then, simultaneously, they bursted to laugh.

“Hey, our kid here laugh funny words how know don't!” One of the bully told, mimicking how Jiero spoke.

“You laugh not do! I—I make pay all!” Jiero defended.

The bullies then started to laugh harder. “What the hell, man! What's happening to you?” asked the last bully standing at his right.

Then . . . he thought of a group of words that would surely provoke them. Words . . . that would make them angry.

It was just two words. He was certain he would not mess it. He was certain he could spoke it.

“f**k you!”

The bullies ripped the laugh from their mouth. Reflection of disbelief can be found at their eyes.

One of them had short temper. Its anger rushed through its fist as it landed at Jiero's face.

Jiero heard how his jawbone cracked and broke.

He can feel the pain.

All he can hear was a tiny sharp TING! sound echoing at his ears.

His knees weakened. His sight turned blur.

“No, perfect boy. You are the asshole,” said the man who punched him. Jiero heard it in a muffled sound.

Then, a peculiar event happened at Jiero's sight.

It was not blur anymore. Yet, his surrounding turned gray. Lines and measurements appeared at every corner of what he can see.

And, he was certain of every move he would be doing.

He picked up the sharp wood he saw at the ground. He stood up, eyes are glaring sharp at the people whom he just let the bullying pass. But not now. He wouldn't allow it.

“Now, what man, what are you going to—” one of the bully hadn't finished what he was telling.

Jiero neared the man, and stabbed him at his throat with the use of the sharp wood. Gurgling sound escaped at the man’s mouth as his eyes were staring in plead towards him.

Jiero then pulled the wood from his throat and stabbed it again at the man's eyes.

“Want not see eyes plead bully,” Jiero said.

He let the bully's body to fall down to the ground.

He then saw the two remaining bullies started running to save themselves from his verdict.

But he was faster. He grabbed one of the man, and stabbed the sharp wood exactly at the top of his head, piercing the brain, and making its eyes to move out of its socket.

He then pulled the sharp wood, and chased the last man who was one of the main reason of all the things that is happening to him.

He let the man stumble in the ground as he jumped and throw himself, so that he could hug the man to its death.

He rode at the man's stomach as he smile evilly.

“No, please! Man, I'm sorry. I—I should have not done those horrible things to you.”

They wee still a child. They still can learn new and different things. A child does not deserve any horrible way of death.

But for Jiero, a child is of no possession of chaos in mind.

That this bullies—and him as well—were no child anymore. Because they knew how to be bad. How to be evil.

“Done is what done,” Jiero said.

He stabbed the child at the chest. Blood spat oit of its mouth.

Jiero silently laughed. Finally, all of his hardhsips is wiped gone.

Then he stabbed the bully again. Then another stab. Then another.

Then tears fell from his eyes. He started to sob. He started to cry loud.

His life . . . it was all out of orderliness. It was now chaotic.

And being chaotic—which he despised the most—was the sign of his senseless life.