Robin The Death'

 

Chapter 2: The Shackles of Blood

Harry's life had never been one of joy, but amidst the darkness, he clung to a fragile belief—that one day, someone would enter his life and give him the love he never had. He dreamed of building a family unlike the one he was born into, a home where warmth replaced cruelty and love conquered suffering. This belief gave him strength, pushing him to work hard, to ignore the trauma, and to strive for a future where he would no longer be trapped in the shadows of his parents' malice.

But life had a way of testing him, of stripping away the small hopes he held onto, and forcing him into deeper despair.

A Child's Desperate Bargain

The conflicts at home grew worse with time, until Harry, still just a boy, started avoiding the house altogether. He spent long hours wandering alone in the wild, escaping to the dense forests near the village. He had no friends at home—his parents were too absorbed in their cruelty, and his extended family did nothing but add fuel to the fire.

Even at school, Harry felt alone. Desperate to feel wanted, he developed a habit—one that seemed innocent at first but would later become his downfall. He started giving money to his classmates, hoping it would make them like him. But where would a child as young as six get money? He had none of his own.

So he stole.

At first, it was just a few coins from his father's desk, then larger amounts. His father, Oscar, was too busy with his own vices to notice right away. But Harry's so-called "friends" grew greedier. They encouraged him, praising him for his generosity, making him feel important. What he didn't realize was that they didn't care about him—they cared about what he could give them.

For a month, the cycle continued. Harry stole. His "friends" took. And he felt, for the first time, that he had a place among people—even if it was built on lies.

But all illusions come to an end.

One evening, Oscar discovered something was off. His finances weren't adding up. Suspicious, he checked the CCTV cameras installed in their lavish home. The footage revealed the truth: his own son had been stealing from him.

That night, when Oscar confronted him, there was no room for explanations, no chance for Harry to express his pain.

Rage took over.

Oscar beat him mercilessly, his hands and fists becoming weapons. He didn't ask why, didn't try to understand—he only saw betrayal. Olivia, as usual, did nothing. She watched, indifferent, as if her son deserved the punishment. That night, something inside Harry shifted.

He no longer feared his parents—he loathed them.

A Family of Villains

Harry's suffering was not confined to his parents alone. His extended family—his uncles, aunts, and cousins—were no better. They visited often, but never to bring comfort. Instead, they were parasites, feeding off the wealth of Harry's father.

Oscar's parents—Harry's grandparents—were the worst of them all. They were manipulative, toxic, and always stirring conflict in the family. They despised Olivia, never accepting her as part of the family, and they used every opportunity to make her life miserable.

Olivia, unlike Oscar, had no family of her own. She was an orphan, with no parents to turn to, no siblings to lean on. This meant that when Oscar's family turned against her, she had no one to defend her. But instead of breaking away, she let the abuse fester and, in turn, passed it down to Harry.

Fights erupted over the smallest things.

"Why do you have these things in the house?" one of Oscar's brothers once sneered at Olivia, pointing at furniture she had purchased. "You waste so much of our money!"

"Our money?" Olivia shot back. "Since when do you have a right to say how we spend it?"

"Since we're family, and this family's wealth belongs to all of us!"

Such arguments were common, but things took a brutal turn one fateful evening.

The Night of the Locked Kitchen

One day, Oscar's parents arrived at the house, demanding money. They had long since stopped working, expecting their son to provide for them. But when Oscar refused, his parents lost all pretense of dignity.

They started throwing things, breaking furniture, screaming like madmen. The house was filled with the sound of shattering glass and furious accusations.

Then, in an act of pure spite, they locked the kitchen.

"If you won't give us money, let's see how long you can live without food."

Oscar, instead of fighting back, allowed it to happen.

Harry returned from school that evening, exhausted and hungry. He went straight to the kitchen—only to find the door locked. He knocked, confused.

"Mom? Dad?"

His grandparents laughed.

"There's nothing for you today, boy."

Hunger gnawed at his stomach. He searched the house for food but found nothing. His mother ignored him. His father didn't care.

That night, as the house remained tense and hostile, Olivia finally persuaded Oscar to give in. He handed money to his parents, who smirked in victory before walking out as if nothing had happened.

But Oscar had other plans brewing.

He had decided to leave.

Not just for the night. Not just for a break. For good.

He was tired of the endless fights, the family leeching off him, the burden of his own parents. He wanted to start fresh—without them.

Without Harry.

The Breaking Point

Harry's life continued its downward spiral. After the money incident, he was sent to a different school—supposedly for "better education." But in reality, it was another nightmare.

Here, the bullying was relentless.

"You're weak, Smith."

"No wonder your parents hate you."

They beat him. They mocked him. And worst of all, some of them went further than mere words and fists. There were moments when Harry, still too young to understand, felt hands where they shouldn't be, whispers that made his skin crawl.

He had nowhere to turn.

At home, his mother hit him.
At school, his classmates tormented him.
Even when he sought refuge in teachers, they turned a blind eye.

And as if fate wasn't cruel enough, his grandfather moved in with them.

More fights. More violence. More nights filled with screaming and breaking glass.

The house was no longer a home. It was a battlefield.

And Harry?

He was tired.

Tired of fighting. Tired of waiting for things to get better. Tired of believing that love would one day find him.

That's when the darkest thoughts crept into his mind.

Maybe it would be easier if it all just ended.

Maybe he didn't have to wake up tomorrow.

But even as he stood on the edge of despair, a single question held him back:

What if?

What if he survived? What if he escaped? What if his dreams of a better life weren't just fantasies?

Harry didn't know if that hope was real or just another cruel trick.

But for now, it was enough to keep him breathing.

And that, in itself, was an act of defiance.