Chapter 1My Dad Uses Me to Rule the Class

Dad is my homeroom teacher. He loves using me to assert his authority. He firmly believes that the more I suffer, the more the other students will fear him, which, in turn, gives him more authority.

When I help my classmate pass an eraser to their friend, Dad slaps me in front of everyone until my face is swollen. When I sneak a bite of my friend's leftover chips after class is over, he drags me to the podium and pokes my lips with needles until I'm bleeding profusely.

Later, the school's head of discipline, Mary Milner, catches a pair of students dating on school grounds. Dad insists that I'm one of the culprits. He doesn't even give me a chance to defend myself and drags me to the hallway and strips me of my clothes.

He then heads to Mary's office and says with a smile, "My apologies, Ms. Milner. It's my fault for failing to raise Zack properly. Don't worry. I'll definitely teach him a lesson he won't forget this time!"

Mary frowns and asks, "Zack Curtis? He's not involved in this dating incident."

Dad is briefly stunned before he nonchalantly says, "It doesn't matter. I'll still punish him as a warning to the others. Besides, Zack always breaks the rules. He has already received countless punishments. What's one more?"

However, Dad doesn't know that every time he punishes me, I secretly deduct a point from him in my heart.

I've already deducted a total of 100 points. I make my way to the hallway on the sixth floor and jump out of the window without hesitation.

I wonder if my death will be enough to assert Dad's authority.

* * *

Zack's POV

The right side of my face was swollen like a balloon when I walked into the classroom while clutching my midterm test papers. Flecks of blood stained the corner of my lips.

One of my female classmates whispered, "Zack Curtis got beaten again just because he didn't get a perfect score on his math exam. I feel so sorry for him…"

Another classmate, Steve Norton, shot a disdainful look at me and sneered, "Why do you feel sorry for him? His father is our homeroom teacher. He's hogging the best resources, and yet he still can't get a perfect score. He deserves to get beaten."

I paused for a moment. I swallowed the bitter taste in my throat before entering the classroom.

My dad, Justin Curtis, had just slapped me in front of all the teachers and students in the office until my face turned swollen.

"98 points?" he snapped. "Should you have lost those two points? Say something!"

Dad's furious scolding echoed in my ears. There was a persistent ringing in my right ear after he repeatedly slapped me. I could barely hear anything anymore.

However, Dad wasn't done punishing me just yet. "If you make this type of amateur mistake again, I'm going to slap the left side of your face until it swells up too!"

He then looked at the students who were standing behind me and said, "The rest of you lost some points because of careless mistakes too. Now do you understand what will happen to you if you keep making the same mistakes?"

I had no idea how the students behind me reacted. I simply kept my eyes on the ground, digging my nails into my palms until they nearly drew blood.

After the other students left, Steve sauntered up to Dad with a smile and slung one arm over his shoulders. "Why are you so mad, Mr. Curtis? I wasn't being careless on purpose. I'll just be more careful next time."

Dad snorted in amusement. "You've always been like this, you punk. I forbid you from making the same mistakes again. Do you understand?"

Steve patted Dad's shoulder with a grin.

I pursed my lips and dug my nails deeper into my palms.

"Alright then," Dad said. "You can leave now."

I only dared to slowly turn around after Dad waved his hand to dismiss us. I smoothly pulled up my hood and discreetly pushed my tongue against the inner side of my face that had gone numb. Seconds before I left the office, I heard the other teachers gushing to Dad, their voices laced with admiration.

"Steve truly is your favorite class representative. You can't even bear to lay a single finger on him."

"You're so good at teaching your son, Mr. Curtis. He just stands there and accepts your punishments. He doesn't even make a sound!"

"Steve's not a fool," Dad said smugly. "He just hasn't applied his smarts to the right places. As for Zack, he's a man. So what if he receives a few punishments? It's not like I'm going to beat him to death. Besides, he has always been mature since he was a child. He never talks back to me."

However, Dad had no idea that those who didn't retaliate when they were being beaten or scolded were either dogs or corpses.

None of my classmates were brave enough to be my friend because Dad loved using me to assert his authority.

Powering through the pain throbbing in the right side of my face, I returned to my seat and pulled out a tiny notebook from my pocket, writing a short note in it.

"Slapped my face until it was swollen because I scored 98 points for my math exam. -1."

Without me realizing it, I had already written 99 such notes by that point. In other words, Dad had used me to assert his authority 99 times.

I would be free once he used me to assert his authority one more time.

A brave warrior only needed a split second to make a life or death decision. But I was not a brave warrior. I was just a normal person who was weak and cowardly. In fact, I was a bit of a wimp.

I barked out a self-deprecating laugh before carefully slipping the notebook back into my pocket. I then pulled out my math exam. Although it was recess, I was forbidden from playing with the other students. The right side of my face ached even more as I listened to the others playing around with each other.

Steve approached me and clapped a hand on my shoulder. His words dripped with mockery when he said, "You must be an orphan Mr. Curtis picked up off the streets, Zack. On the other hand, he treats me like his actual son. You're nothing but a punching bag for him to take his frustrations out on."

I clenched my fists tightly. I glared at him before saying coldly, "Someone who lost his father at a young age just loves stealing other people's fathers."

Steve's father had abandoned him and run away when he was only four. It was common knowledge in our class.

Steve's eyes widened the moment the words left my lips. His temper exploded in an instant. "Just you wait, Zack Curtis!"

"I'll be waiting," I said calmly.

I knew that Steve was just going to tattle on me to Dad and cause me to get punished again. It was the perfect arrangement. He would essentially be doing me a favor.