Pedro was a good boy, always responsible, with a good heart and respectful towards his parents. He didn't have many friends and wasn't probably popular but never complained about his life because he had the luck of having a model father who worked hard and never made him lack anything, a very loving and understanding mother, and a little brother who was very spoiled and mischievous but the tenderest in the world. A practically perfect family. Almost everything was almost perfect in his life, apart from Marcelo. He was a schoolmate of Pedro's who was very popular, especially with girls, and had made it his hobby to torment Pedro's favorite pastime. The two were like fire and water; completely different. Good Pedro was a white boy, short stature, glasses, shy, and cowardly. On the contrary Marcelo was bad, dark skin, very tall, athletic and muscular physique, party animal, and self-assured. The hatred they felt for each other was inevitable. Pedro spent most of his time hiding from him, watching from afar as all the prettiest girls in school were glued to him like Booty, laughing with his friends and living life violating all the rules he could without receiving an adequate punishment. Pedro's feelings were a mix of hatred and envy that he always tried to contain due to the religious education received by his mother. She taught him that violence was bad, like hate and envy, but what was most important was telling him that in the end it is the good who will be rewarded while the bad will always pay for their actions. It was this that prevented him from rebelling against Marcelo all that time but no matter how hard he tried, proving those negative feelings towards that subject was inevitable. Some say that good days are seen in the morning and if so then that day didn't announce itself well. The alarm hadn't gone off, which had made Pedro arrive late to school on the day of an important exam. He studied but knew that having less time to do so would compromise the result. At the end of the hour, the professor had already finished correcting the exams that had gone badly for everyone. Pedro barely managed to review his exam and saw that the teacher hadn't reviewed it well, nor probably those of others, and that's why his grade was unfair. The problem was that no one dared to say anything against her because she was a good time since the professor was in terrible humor due to her divorce and had started treating her students very badly, more than usual. Pedro's problem was a bit more complicated because he always had been the student with the highest grades and added to that, he had promised his parents that he would only receive excellent grades to get a new computer as a reward. The boy took courage and stood up to go talk to the teacher. She didn't like her student answering back, even if it was with education and respect, so she sent him back to his seat, threatening to lower his grade even more. Pedro's day continued to worsen in physical education when he was humiliated by the laughter of his classmates at seeing that he couldn't do a single flexion. Marcelo was also there, who took advantage of a moment when the teacher got distracted to step on Pedro's back with one foot, pressing him into the floor, spit on his neck and start doing flexions near him to increase his humiliation. At the exit, he talked to Juan, his best friend, about how terrible that day was for him, but while walking, Marcelo and his little gang waited for them like an ambush. Pedro thought that the torment of that day had ended, but when he saw his torturer, he realized that the worst part was just beginning. The band of Marcelo enjoyed pushing the two friends into a circle they had created as if they were '... flipper ball. As usual, between insults and laughter, the first part ended when one of them fell to the floor, in this case Pedro, while some kept the other nerd quiet and Marcelo sat on the one who had fallen, checking his backpack. Almost always Pedro had to pay the toll to get home without receiving blows, he had already gotten used to it and was ready to hand over the money without protesting but the bastard Marcelo didn't care and mistreated him out of spite. What happened next changed Pedro's life forever, something he could have avoided. Maybe because of the heat, maybe because Marcell was more sadistic than usual that day or maybe for Pedro it was already a terribly frustrating day but for one of those reasons Marcello spat in Pedro's neck again and in a moment of rage Pedro let out: -Son of a slut. That was the biggest mistake of his life. Although he had tried to say it silently, everyone heard his words. The lack of respect from the microbe made Marcelo angry and gave Pedro some kicks while he was still lying on the floor. It wasn't the first time Pedro received blows but that day they felt much stronger than the other times. After a while, he managed to get up and adjust his clothes while poor Juan also paid for his mistake. Before everything ended, Marcello wanted to leave Pedro with one last gift and so with a punch in the face made him fall again to the floor. Juan helped him get up again while the band went off in another direction laughing as if nothing was wrong. During the way home, Pedro tried to think of a way to hide that black eye or at least find a believable lie. He opened the door, saw his mother in the kitchen and trying not to be seen he climbed the stairs.
Pedrito! But where are you going, son? -I...am...tired, I'm going to my room. Pedro was standing on the stairs trying to sound as normal as possible. -It's okay but tell me how your exam went. -Excellent... everything is always like that. -Good, but why don't you tell me more... didn't it bother you that you arrived late? -No, no. Nothing. -Pedro, you're weird. Come here and tell me what's wrong. Pedro didn't usually lie to his mother, but the nervousness of the moment made his mouth faster than his brain. Now, however, he couldn't hide his face so with his head down, he went downstairs and stood in front of his mother. She was a little taller when she wore heels like that, so she grabbed his face and lifted it up gently to see him well. -My God, Pedro! What happened? -Nothing, mom, I just fell on a door. Pedro's brain wasn't working well when he felt pressured, which caused him to say that nonsensical phrase. -You fell on... a door? -No, no... I meant I hit myself with a door. -Mmm... Pedro Jesús Murieta García, don't lie to your mother... tell me what happened? -No... nothing, mom. -...Was it that boy true? That Marcelo... Pedro remained silent as lying was useless. -I knew it, I knew it! This is the limit. How can someone like this be tolerated in a decent school like ours? This has to stop. The mother of Pedro, Teresa, was born and lived her whole life in that city of which she was very proud. As a young woman, she was very popular for her exemplary behavior, her ethics, her help to the poor, and she was the champion of debate in the school, the same one in which she enrolled her son and is still considered hers. Teresa was known and respected by the entire community, in church, in the neighborhood, and also at school. She was a good woman, a model citizen, a perfect wife, and above all, a mother, and there wasn't a mother who would accept that her beloved son came to be treated like this. She grabbed the cell phone and called the school to talk to the director. Pedro I saw her mother protesting on the phone for almost an hour with the director and how she was insisting on getting Marcelo's parents' number. For all that time, her little brother was pulling her skirt to get her attention but she ignored him. Finally, she managed to get the mother of Marcelo's number. Teresa never lost a discussion, not with her son, husband, church pastor or school director; the only times she lost were when she protested as a young woman against a sexy shop that opened near the school and when some years ago a new nightclub opened in the area where her church was. Times had changed and the values of the past were no longer important to people. That was something Teresa didn't want to accept and for all her life she fought against the corruption that was infecting more and more her city and the world. Pedro barely got his mother off the phone before he begged her not to call Marcelo's parents, as he didn't want to have more problems. Teresa didn't listen and called the number they had given her. At first, nothing answered so she called again. Still nothing. It wasn't a novelty that Marcelo's parents rarely responded to school calls or convocations, so the director was used to just suspending him or sending him home with detention notes for his parents to read. The situation was unbelievable but after other attempts, someone finally answered the phone. Whether it was good luck or bad luck only you can say. -Hello? Mrs. Costa? -What the hell do you want? That's how Marcelo responded on the phone to his mother, leaving Teresa a bit surprised by those words. -I'm Teresa Inés García... You're girl. Tell me what you want? -...Listen to me well Mr. Costa. I'm calling because your son Marcelo has been tormenting my poor son Pedro for a long time and today he came home with a black eye so... -Pedro? Ha ha ha, does that mean use the word: pussy with glasses? -What? How did he say it? -Use the word: pussy with glasses...short, white, brown hair, glasses... -Yes, it is! Teresa regretted confirming his identity after that insult. -But you, how dare you call my son like that? Are you crazy? Think you can let him talk about my little one or make me leave your son... -No, I don't have kids, lady...at least not that I know. -What do you mean you don't have kids? You're not Mr. Costa, father of Marcelo Cos... -I'm Marcelo girl. Now, tell me what you want. Teresa was surprised that she had been talking to Marcelo all this time. Since her son's age, her voice was very deep and mature. What surprised her most was that being a young man, he spoke with so much superiority and bad manners, as if it were unacceptable for someone of his same age, worse for a young pretentious one. -You...Bad-mannered kid, don't dare talk to me like that. I want to speak with one of your parents right now. -My mother is sleeping and my father or better my stepfather left a few months ago. -Oh...Okay. Then pass me to your mother. -No girl, I'm telling you she's sleeping and after last night's drunk I'm sure she won't get up until tonight. -I already told you...(takes a deep breath)Well, I'll call your mother at night but I want you to listen young one. You don't have to approach my son. If I find out you did anything else to him again, I swear... Marcelo hangs up the call, leaving Teresa in the middle of her speech. -What a son of... Teresa's face was red with rage as if she wanted to explode. Pedro was standing in front of her, scared of what she would do now. His mom took a deep breath and, as if nothing had happened, grabbed little Jonás in her arms to comfort him, repeating: -Give me strength, sir, give me The strength. After taking care of his little brother, the three of them ate together and then he went to his room. Pedro although he did fear for the next day at school was calmed down by his mother who told him nothing would happen. After a few hours he received a message on his cell phone, a photo of his mother and written below: -You didn't tell me your mom was so hot guy.
Pedro didn't recognize the number but already knew who it was from. -Mercelo? How did you get my number? Where did you get that picture? -A friend of mine from your class sent it to me through our WhatsApp group and I just took it from Facebook. Pedro reviewed his mother's Facebook profile and scrolled down until he found the photo Marcelo had sent him. The photo itself wasn't bad, but you could see her beautiful face and body clearly. Surely Marcelo had seen all those photos and chosen the best one. His mother was always a charming woman with black hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and now that this photo was in front of him, he realized what kind of body she had. He had never seen her like that before, but now that Marcelo sent him that picture, he paid attention to the details of her figure. Large and beautiful breasts pressed against that dress, a body cared for by all the gym work she did at home and a butt that was the end of the world as he heard someone say in church once. Pedro was annoyed by his tormentor's comment about his mother but when he asked him not to talk about her like that, he didn't answer. After a while, he went down and saw his mother getting ready to leave. -Mom? -Pedrito, sweetheart. I'm leaving now, I'll be back soon, okay? -But where are you going? -Marcelo sent me a message saying his mom wants to talk to me in person. It seems we'll settle things already. -Ah, okay...but maybe... -Not now, son, better hurry so I can get home and prepare dinner first. Pedro saw his mother leaving the house and getting farther away from him and their home with each step. Something made him shiver at that moment. Something terrible was about to happen but he didn't know what.
-Take...Take care Mom! Said Pedro but she didn't listen. Continues...
Pedrito! But where are you going, son? -I...am...tired, I'm going to my room. Pedro was standing on the stairs trying to sound as normal as possible. -It's okay but tell me how your exam went. -Excellent... everything is always like that. -Good, but why don't you tell me more... didn't it bother you that you arrived late? -No, no. Nothing. -Pedro, you're weird. Come here and tell me what's wrong. Pedro didn't usually lie to his mother, but the nervousness of the moment made his mouth faster than his brain. Now, however, he couldn't hide his face so with his head down, he went downstairs and stood in front of his mother. She was a little taller when she wore heels like that, so she grabbed his face and lifted it up gently to see him well. -My God, Pedro! What happened? -Nothing, mom, I just fell on a door. Pedro's brain wasn't working well when he felt pressured, which caused him to say that nonsensical phrase. -You fell on... a door? -No, no... I meant I hit myself with a door. -Mmm... Pedro Jesús Murieta García, don't lie to your mother... tell me what happened? -No... nothing, mom. -...Was it that boy true? That Marcelo... Pedro remained silent as lying was useless. -I knew it, I knew it! This is the limit. How can someone like this be tolerated in a decent school like ours? This has to stop. The mother of Pedro, Teresa, was born and lived her whole life in that city of which she was very proud. As a young woman, she was very popular for her exemplary behavior, her ethics, her help to the poor, and she was the champion of debate in the school, the same one in which she enrolled her son and is still considered hers. Teresa was known and respected by the entire community, in church, in the neighborhood, and also at school. She was a good woman, a model citizen, a perfect wife, and above all, a mother, and there wasn't a mother who would accept that her beloved son came to be treated like this. She grabbed the cell phone and called the school to talk to the director. Pedro I saw her mother protesting on the phone for almost an hour with the director and how she was insisting on getting Marcelo's parents' number. For all that time, her little brother was pulling her skirt to get her attention but she ignored him. Finally, she managed to get the mother of Marcelo's number. Teresa never lost a discussion, not with her son, husband, church pastor or school director; the only times she lost were when she protested as a young woman against a sexy shop that opened near the school and when some years ago a new nightclub opened in the area where her church was. Times had changed and the values of the past were no longer important to people. That was something Teresa didn't want to accept and for all her life she fought against the corruption that was infecting more and more her city and the world. Pedro barely got his mother off the phone before he begged her not to call Marcelo's parents, as he didn't want to have more problems. Teresa didn't listen and called the number they had given her. At first, nothing answered so she called again. Still nothing. It wasn't a novelty that Marcelo's parents rarely responded to school calls or convocations, so the director was used to just suspending him or sending him home with detention notes for his parents to read. The situation was unbelievable but after other attempts, someone finally answered the phone. Whether it was good luck or bad luck only you can say. -Hello? Mrs. Costa? -What the hell do you want? That's how Marcelo responded on the phone to his mother, leaving Teresa a bit surprised by those words. -I'm Teresa Inés García... You're girl. Tell me what you want? -...Listen to me well Mr. Costa. I'm calling because your son Marcelo has been tormenting my poor son Pedro for a long time and today he came home with a black eye so... -Pedro? Ha ha ha, does that mean use the word: pussy with glasses? -What? How did he say it? -Use the word: pussy with glasses...short, white, brown hair, glasses... -Yes, it is! Teresa regretted confirming his identity after that insult. -But you, how dare you call my son like that? Are you crazy? Think you can let him talk about my little one or make me leave your son... -No, I don't have kids, lady...at least not that I know. -What do you mean you don't have kids? You're not Mr. Costa, father of Marcelo Cos... -I'm Marcelo girl. Now, tell me what you want. Teresa was surprised that she had been talking to Marcelo all this time. Since her son's age, her voice was very deep and mature. What surprised her most was that being a young man, he spoke with so much superiority and bad manners, as if it were unacceptable for someone of his same age, worse for a young pretentious one. -You...Bad-mannered kid, don't dare talk to me like that. I want to speak with one of your parents right now. -My mother is sleeping and my father or better my stepfather left a few months ago. -Oh...Okay. Then pass me to your mother. -No girl, I'm telling you she's sleeping and after last night's drunk I'm sure she won't get up until tonight. -I already told you...(takes a deep breath)Well, I'll call your mother at night but I want you to listen young one. You don't have to approach my son. If I find out you did anything else to him again, I swear... Marcelo hangs up the call, leaving Teresa in the middle of her speech. -What a son of... Teresa's face was red with rage as if she wanted to explode. Pedro was standing in front of her, scared of what she would do now. His mom took a deep breath and, as if nothing had happened, grabbed little Jonás in her arms to comfort him, repeating: -Give me strength, sir, give me The strength. After taking care of his little brother, the three of them ate together and then he went to his room. Pedro although he did fear for the next day at school was calmed down by his mother who told him nothing would happen. After a few hours he received a message on his cell phone, a photo of his mother and written below: -You didn't tell me your mom was so hot guy.Pedro didn't recognize the number but already knew who it was from. -Mercelo? How did you get my number? Where did you get that picture? -A friend of mine from your class sent it to me through our WhatsApp group and I just took it from Facebook. Pedro reviewed his mother's Facebook profile and scrolled down until he found the photo Marcelo had sent him. The photo itself wasn't bad, but you could see her beautiful face and body clearly. Surely Marcelo had seen all those photos and chosen the best one. His mother was always a charming woman with black hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and now that this photo was in front of him, he realized what kind of body she had. He had never seen her like that before, but now that Marcelo sent him that picture, he paid attention to the details of her figure. Large and beautiful breasts pressed against that dress, a body cared for by all the gym work she did at home and a butt that was the end of the world as he heard someone say in church once. Pedro was annoyed by his tormentor's comment about his mother but when he asked him not to talk about her like that, he didn't answer. After a while, he went down and saw his mother getting ready to leave. -Mom? -Pedrito, sweetheart. I'm leaving now, I'll be back soon, okay? -But where are you going? -Marcelo sent me a message saying his mom wants to talk to me in person. It seems we'll settle things already. -Ah, okay...but maybe... -Not now, son, better hurry so I can get home and prepare dinner first. Pedro saw his mother leaving the house and getting farther away from him and their home with each step. Something made him shiver at that moment. Something terrible was about to happen but he didn't know what.-Take...Take care Mom! Said Pedro but she didn't listen. Continues...
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