My sister, Judy Easton, skipped school and started dating way too early, but our parents sent me, the straight-A kid, to a juvenile behavioral correction center, saying it was to teach her a lesson.

"Judy, take a good look at William. Act up again, and you're going there, too."

My family showed up to visit every so often.

The first year, an instructor blew out my eardrum. I was covered in blood, gripping the bars, begging for help.

Dad pointed at me while talking to Judy.

"Look at him. Still can't follow simple instructions. If you don't listen to us, you'll end up just like him."

The second year, the instructor broke both my legs.

My parents stood over my bed and said, "Look at you, lying there like a useless wimp. We came all this way to see you, and this is the welcome we get? How ungrateful."

The third year, the instructor pumped me full of hormones. I swelled up like a whale.

The instructor smirked. "That's probably shot now. Let's see how you go after girls now."

Judy stood outside the cage holding her acceptance letter to a top college. The whole family looked pleased.

"William, Judy got into a top college. You did your part. I'm taking you home."

I blinked, my vision hazy, trying to make sense of it.

"Who's William? They all call me Runt."

###CONTENT

####CHAPTER-NAME:

"What are you talking about?" Dad asked, his face tightened.

I turned the name "William" over in my head, again and again.

Nothing.

They never called me that in here.

The instructor, Vincent Rhodes, stepped up behind me. His hand settled on my shoulder, firm but placed where no one else would notice.

He leaned in, his voice low against my ear.

"Watch your mouth when you get out. You know what happens if you don't."

When he straightened, the smile was already back on his face.

"Mr. Easton, no need to worry. The kids are managed by ID numbers inside. It takes a little time to readjust. William's made real progress over the past three years. We're honestly going to miss him."

Dad's expression eased. "Alright. Let's get him home."

He looked at me.

"You hear that? Your name's William. I'm taking you home."

I nodded.

Mom stepped forward and reached for my hand.

I jerked back, hitting the doorframe, my body locking up.

"I'm sorry!"

My knees started to give on instinct, the reaction shooting straight up my spine.

My sister, Judy Easton, reached past Mom and caught my arm.

"Hey, stand up. You don't have to kneel."

Her voice was quiet. She looked nothing like the girl who used to get into fights at school three years ago.

Dad gave her shoulder a light pat and glanced at me.

"See, Judy? If you had been this easy back then, I wouldn't have had to spend so much money to send William in your place."

He didn't bother hiding the satisfaction in his eyes.

"One kid gets into a top college, while the other gets his attitude straightened out. Worked out pretty well."

When it was time to get in the car, I froze.

Tight, dark spaces scared me. The seatbelt looked too much like the straps they used to tie down my arms and legs. I remembered a few people closing in, ripping my clothes open.

"C-Can I sit in the back?" I stammered.

Dad sighed, then nodded.

I climbed into the back seat and curled into the far corner, burying my face in my knees.

Sunlight came through the glass. It felt sharp, almost painful, but something inside me stirred anyway.

When we got home, a banner hung across the living room.

[Congrats, Judy, on Getting into a Top College!]

In smaller print underneath was, [Welcome Home, William.]

The table was set with a full spread.

"Sit." Dad pulled out the chair at the head of the table.

I walked over, but didn't sit.

In there, sitting without permission meant getting slapped, over and over until your lips split.

"What are you waiting for?"

I lowered myself into the chair carefully.

Thirty seconds passed. No one hit me.

The utensils shook in my hands. I hadn't touched anything like them in three years.

We ate with our hands off metal trays on the floor, fighting over food. If you didn't finish in two minutes, you got beaten.

I set the utensils down, grabbed a rib, and shoved it into my mouth.

The bone hit my teeth, and my lip split. The taste of blood mixed with meat. I couldn't taste much, but at least it filled me up.

The sharp clack of utensils hitting the table made everyone look over.

Dad snapped, "William, what are you doing?"

My hand froze around the rib. The chair scraped back as I shot to my feet.

"Sir, I'm eating!"

"Enough!" Dad slammed his hand down on the table. "I spent all that money, and this is what you learned? Eating with your hands?"

I slid off the chair, my forehead knocking against the edge of the table.

"I'm sorry! I won't use my hands. I'll do better."

I picked up the bone and dropped to the floor. Both hands on the ground, I chewed like a dog, the motion automatic.

That should earn me some praise.

The room went quiet, except for the hum of the air conditioner.

Judy's fork froze midair. She stared at me on the floor, her lips pressed tight.

"Dad… William…"

"Enough."

Dad rubbed his temple, then motioned for Judy to pull me up.

"Get up. Eat properly. I know you went through some things in there, but look at Judy now. That proves my method worked. From now on, be good. Don’t worry, I won't send you back."

He picked up his glass, his eyes moving over my face.

I had seen that same look on Vincent countless times.

"And you, Judy, take a good look at him. If you waste what he went through, I've got another place lined up for you, too."

####CHAPTER-NAME:

That night, I stood there, staring at the bed with the blue sheets, not knowing what to do.

"William, why are you on the floor?"

Mom's voice came from the doorway.

I shrank back into the corner when I heard her, arms wrapped tight around myself.

The mattress was too soft. When I lay on it, it sank under me, like something was pressing me down.

In the behavioral correction center, we slept on concrete. In winter, the cold cut straight through your spine and into your insides, but at least it was solid. Solid things wouldn't swallow you.

"Come on, get in the bed. The floor's cold."

I shook my head stubbornly.

Mom pulled me up anyway and set me on the mattress.

The moment the door clicked shut, I slid off again, quiet as I could, and curled back into the corner.

With my back against the wall, I could close my eyes. That was the only way I knew how to sleep and wake up alive.

The next morning at breakfast, Dad sat at the head of the table, talking on the phone.

"Hey, Mike. Yeah, we got him back. I'm telling you, it worked better than I expected. You remember what Judy was like. The second we sent William in, she straightened out. Her college acceptance letter's right there on the table."

He wasn't even trying to hide how pleased he was.

"Think about it. Three years of training one kid, and you get a top college graduate out of it. That's a pretty good return."

Three years of "training."

That was what he called it.

I sat there, pushing the oatmeal around in my bowl. My hands weren't shaking anymore because my whole arm had gone numb.

Judy set her bowl down. "Dad, can you not talk about that on the phone?"

"Talk about what? I'm just telling it like it is."

"William's sitting right here."

Dad glanced at me.

It wasn't how you look at your son. It was how you look at something you built.

"He understands. What he went through had a purpose."

He softened his voice, like he thought it made him sound gentle.

"William, are you happy your sister got into a good college?"

I nodded.

"That's what I thought."

That afternoon, Judy came into my room with a plate of fruit. She pushed the door, which was mostly closed, and crouched down in front of me.

"William, those three years… What was it like?"

My fingers tightened on the blanket.

Vincent's voice echoed in my head. "Watch your mouth when you get out."

"It was…fine," I said.

"You keep stopping when you talk. You didn't use to do that."

I used to…?

My eyes drifted to the photo on the wall.

The boy in the photo had short hair and a lean build, muscle defined beneath the fabric. He was clad in a tracksuit, running across the court as if nothing could touch him.

Was that me?

It couldn't be.

Vincent said I was born wrong, said I would always be a runt. At best, I was just something for people to use.

"I've…always been like this."

Judy went quiet for a second, then asked, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Yes. Everywhere.

My legs had been broken and set wrong. My left ear barely worked.

There were dark bruises across my lower stomach. Every time I came out of the isolation room, I would hit myself with a stick.

And there were worse injuries in places I couldn't even look at.

"No."

Her hands clenched, then slowly loosened.

"Can you roll up your sleeves? Let me see."

I pulled my arms behind me.

"Judy!"

Dad's voice came from the living room.

"What are you doing in there? Don't push him. The instructor said kids who got out just needed time. Take it slow."

Judy stood up and walked to the door, then looked back at me.

It seemed like she wanted to say something, but in the end she only said, "The apple's sweet. Try some."

The door closed.

Dad's voice came through the wall, muffled.

"Look at you now. You got into a top college. That's all I ever wanted. Everything William went through was for you. Once he settles in, we'll send him overseas for school. Two college kids. That's perfect."

I picked up a slice of apple and put it in my mouth.

Was it sweet? I couldn't tell.

My tongue didn't work right anymore.

Mom came in again, picked up a slice, and held it out to me.

"William, your dad wants to have a family dinner on Saturday. We're celebrating Judy getting into college. Your Uncle Ronan and Uncle Chester are coming. You should come out and say hello."

Dad's voice followed from outside.

"Act right. Don't embarrass me."

####CHAPTER-NAME:

Saturday evening.

Relatives and a few of Dad's business partners started arriving one after another. The living room was filled with noise.

I stood at the turn of the stairs, too afraid to go down.

More than five people together meant being surrounded and talked down to.

"William, come down here."

Dad's eyes hardened. For a second, all I saw was Vincent's face.

I walked over slowly and stopped in the middle of the room. Dad put a hand on my shoulder, smiling like he was showing something off.

"Come on, everyone. Take a look at William. It's been three years. Doesn't he look completely different?"

Uncle Ronan gave me a once-over and smiled. "Well, look at that. He's put on some weight. And he's gotten quiet, too. Not the same kid at all."

"Exactly."

Dad patted my shoulder.

"You all remember what Judy was like. I sent William to that place, and she straightened out overnight. Now, look at her. She got into a top college."

He pointed at the banner and the framed copy of the letter on the wall.

"Two birds, one stone."

He glanced back at me.

"Go on, William. Say hi to Uncle Ronan. Show everyone how well-behaved you are now."

I opened my mouth.

"H-Hello, Uncle Ronan."

Aunt Marie stepped forward and took my hand.

"See that? He's polite and calm now, so much better than before. No one liked how wild he used to be."

I flinched.

"So what did they teach you in there, William? Pick up any skills? Why don't you show us something?"

"Yes, come on, give us a little show," a few others said.

Dad looked at me, his expression making it clear I didn't have a choice.

"Recite something. Anything you remember."

My lips moved. The only line in my head was the one I said every day.

I was livestock. I didn't deserve to be human.

"I-I can't."

Dad's smile faltered for a second.

"He's shy. Don't push him."

He waved it off, but his eyes cut straight through me.

"Sit down. After dinner, do better."

Uncle Chester had a couple drinks in him, and his voice grew louder. "Paul, your boy really changed. How'd you even think of something like this?"

"I didn't have much choice."

Dad poured himself another glass of wine, relaxing into it.

"You didn't see what Judy was like back then. She was skipping school, getting into fights, dating boys. She didn't listen, and punishment didn't work either.

"Then my friend, Mike, told me about that place. I figured punishing her wasn't getting anywhere. Better to let her see what punishment looks like."

"So you sent William instead?"

"Exactly. Worked right away."

My cousin, Nathaniel Easton, came up behind me with a glass decanter. He leaned in and casually set a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!"

I shot to my feet like I had been shocked.

The decanter tipped over and shattered on the floor.

Everyone turned.

Nathaniel froze. "I was just pouring you some wine…"

Dad's face darkened.

"William, he was offering you wine."

Aunt Marie stepped in quickly.

"It's fine, it's fine. He's just a little shy…"

She reached out and touched my head.

As her fingers pressed down on me, my knees buckled on instinct. I dropped to the floor, arms over my head, curling in tight.

"I'll be good! Don't hit me, don't hit me! I'm sorry!"

My knees hit the tile.

"I'll say it. I'm livestock. I don't deserve to be human. Please don't hit me again!"

Glasses froze midair. Forks stopped halfway.

Every pair of eyes in the room locked on me.

"Enough!"

Dad rushed over and grabbed my arm, hauling me up.

"What are you doing? In front of everyone? Are you hell-bent on embarrassing me?"

"I'm sorry, sir! I'll do whatever you say!"

I couldn't see Dad anymore. Just concrete walls, iron bars, and fluorescent lights glaring into my eyes.

"Let him go!"

Judy's voice came from somewhere far away. She stepped between us and pulled me back toward the corner.

"Don't touch him. You're making it worse!"

The room fell apart.

My relatives exchanged looks. Someone was already reaching for their coat.

"Let's…call it a night."

Mom's voice shook.

"I'm so sorry. H-He's not feeling well."

####CHAPTER-NAME: