Chapter 1: Prologue Part 1

"What do you mean her friends are just playing with her? Are you all blind? Can't you see the bruises on her face?" I exclaimed into the phone, my voice trembling with frustration as spittle flew from my lips. 

Suddenly, Celine seized my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh as she pleaded for me to end the call. "Grandpa, what are you doing?! I told you I'm fine! Please, just hang up. It's embarrassing." 

Embarrassing? How could she dismiss her own suffering so easily? How much pain had she endured at school, with her teachers turning a blind eye to her torment? Her once radiant brown hair now resembled dirt freshly unearthed, and her hazel eyes, normally so vibrant, were now overshadowed by angry bruises, making her appear as if she were afflicted with some dreadful disease. 

"Grandpa, please, I'm begging you. Don't make things worse than they already are," Celine's voice cracked in a high pitch, sending tremors through my body, not from my own fear but from sensing her palpable terror vibrating through her trembling frame. 

With a heavy sigh, I replaced the phone to my ear, prompting a frown from Celine as she observed my reluctance to meet her gaze. "You lucky bastards! If it wasn't for my brave granddaughter, I would've—" I paused, only then realizing the call had ended moments ago, my rage fueled by the stark lack of concern for my granddaughter's well-being. "When I catch those bastards!" 

Celine swiftly transitioned from clutching my arms to holding my hands gently, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "How can you smile at a time like this?" I questioned, my expression one of perplexity. 

"Because seeing you willing to fight for me makes me happy, Grandpa," Celine replied, her grin unwavering. 

"Of course, I'll fight for my baby girl! I'll stand against the world if need be, and I'll never leave your side, never!" I declared boldly, pointing to my chest with bravado. 

"Ugh! I keep telling you to stop saying cringe stuff like that, Grandpa," Celine said, feeling awkward. 

"Huh? But isn't this the first time I've said this?" I replied, genuinely confused by Celine's remark. 

"Come on, Grandpa, you know you've said this countless times. You even said it yesterday before you dropped me off at school," Celine insisted. 

"But I thought it was Grandma who dropped you off at school yesterday?" I questioned, trying to piece together the puzzle. 

"What? Did you hit your head or something, Grandpa? It was you! Jeez, you've been so forgetful these recent days. Last week, you almost forgot to attend my parent-teacher conference, and Grandma had to come instead, which I wanted you to come to! I knew if Grandma saw my grades, she'd kill me," Celine scolded me momentarily. 

 But I swear she didn't tell me about that. 

"Are you sure you aren't making all this up, Celine? You know if you told me about your parent-teacher conference, I'd do anything to make it," I insisted. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Celine rolled her eyes, brushing off the never-ending conversation. 

"Anyway, promise me you won't tell Grandma about your bullying; you know how crazy she can be," I whispered to Celine, feeling a strange sense of apprehension even though I knew my wife wasn't home. Yet, it felt as if she could hear me. 

 "Yeah, I promise not to tell Grandma," Celine giggled, placing her index finger on her lips. 

 "PROMISE NOT TO TELL GRANDMA WHAT?!" 

 A sudden deep bass voice blasted from outside the house. 

 "Grandpa, did you leave the house door open?" Celine asked, fear creeping into her voice. 

"Impossible, I made sure to lock it! It must be her super alien hearing!" I exclaimed aloud. 

“WHY ARE YOU GUYS TREATING ME LIKE I’M AN ENEMY! OPEN THE DOOR NOW BEFORE I BEAT BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TOO! AND WHO THE HELL CALLED ME AN ALIEN!” 

“It was Celine!” I snitched before Celine could, her jaw dropping in shock as she got betrayed by her very own grandpa who had just promised to fight for her. 

Moments later, Grandma entered the house with shopping bags, and Celine and I helped her pack them into our kitchen. 

“Oh yeah, Grandma, you said earlier... ‘OPEN THE DOOR NOW BEFORE I BEAT BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TOO!’ Who did you get into a fight with someone again?” Celine said, mimicking Grandma’s voice. 

“Child, mimic my voice again and you’ll have no throat to even mimic yourself,” my wife said with a sharp, stern voice. 

“Yes, ma'am,” Celine and I said at the same time. 

My wife looked at me weirdly for replying too, but thankfully, she ignored me, thank God. 

“But towards your question, yes, I did get into another fight and it was with Lucy and Stella.” 

Hearing those names put Celine in shock as sweat began to arise from her skin as she became distressed. “Why would you do that?! How do you even know them?!” 

“Wait, wait, hold on, what’s going on? Who the hell are Lucy and Stella and why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” I said. 

"Come on, honey! You should know the perpetrators that caused our granddaughter's bullying!" My wife said casually as she continued unpacking the shopping, while Celine and I paused. 

"I thought you said we shouldn't tell grandma?!" Celine switched on like a beast. 

"Honestly, I'm just as surprised as you! Honey, how on earth do you know her bullies, or even know she was being bullied? And pardon?! Does that mean you attacked children at the young age of fifteen? Aren't you going to get arrested?" I exclaimed in shock. 

"My, my, so many questions. But to summarize, I've known for a long time that Celine was being bullied. Even you can't hide those scars and bruises from me, so I conducted my own research and investigation. I used the opportunity of your parent-teacher evening to observe your classmates, and the ones that caught my eye were those two girls," my wife deduced and explained. 

"Yeah, but that doesn’t answer how you knew what they looked like? How did you even know their names or that it was exactly them who bullied me?" Celine stressed out as she raised her voice at her grandmother. 

"Because at your parent’s evening, it was blatantly obvious that you were trying to avoid eye contact with them, and those two girls didn’t seem to care, giving you such disgusting glares even though I was right by your side. It was almost like they wanted me to know they’re making your life hell," my wife explained. 

"But... no one asked you for your help! You just laid your hands on kids my age! You could go to jail!" Celine said desperately, her concern for her grandmother evident. 

"So?" my wife uttered nonchalantly, shocking both me and Celine. 

"Is that it?! Why aren’t you taking this seriously?" Celine stressed. 

Suddenly, my wife aggressively threw the shopping to the ground, causing me to jump, as she lashed out her tongue in fury. 

"You're right. I'm not taking this seriously because if I was, I wouldn't have ripped out those two girls' dirty tongues, flashy nails, and artificial hair and stuffed them right up in their x! Don’t piss me off! Anyone who messes with my granddaughter messes with me! End of story! Now, no more discussion of this, and help me unpack the shopping!" my wife shouted like a sergeant, her voice dripping with anger and menace.  

Celine and I exchanged looks, realizing it was futile to question my wife further. 

Later that night, as my wife and I tucked Celine into bed and gave her our special goodnight kiss, we also went into our bedroom to sleep. As I was about to drift away into pleasant slumber, my wife tapped me. 

“Hey honey, are you still awake?” she asked. 

“Nah, I’m sleeping,” I replied. 

Suddenly, I felt a meteorite force plunging into my lower belt, causing me to scream, but my wife covered my mouth before I could make any noise, hushing me. “Shhhh! You’re gonna wake up Celine.” 

“Of course I would scream like that! Do you want to end the chapter of me making love to you in bed?!” I said grunting in pain of agony. 

“Oh please, you're not the same as you used to be,” my wife said bluntly. 

Ouch. That stung. 

“Anyway, what do you want? I was about to fall asleep,” I said to her, annoyed and groaning in pain. 

“It’s just that I’m worried about Celine. Even when confronting her bullies, they didn’t show any sense of sorry or guilt. It’s like they do it for pleasure and dominance, and I wonder how many other girls they’re doing it to. I’m starting to think that me whooping their asses might escalate the situation with Celine tomorrow at school,” my wife said concerned. 

“Then why did you attack them?” I asked, dozing off a bit. 

“Because they hurt my granddaughter,” my wife replied, riled up. 

“And that’s why I love you,” I replied. 

“Huh? Where did that come from?” My wife said, genuinely confused. 

“You don’t think before you act, you’re always emotional and irrational, you never consider the consequences. Overall, you're an idiot,” as soon as I said that, I covered my groin immediately, and I was right to do that because her fist was almost close to crashing towards it. 

“But... anytime you do act like that it's never out of malice or evil intent but for the love of others and the people you care about, and that’s my favorite trait of why I love you,” I said, while smooching her on the cheek. 

“Aww, honey, it's really nice to hear that from you. But even I know I've got my flaws, but I need to be strong for Celine. That girl has gone through so much ever since she was born,” my wife said, which surprised me. 

“Did she? How?” I responded, scratching my head trying to remember. 

“Really? You've got to be pranking me. There’s no way you’ve forgotten all the things Celine went through,” my wife blurted out in disbelief. 

I went quiet for a bit, trying hard to remember, but nothing still comes to mind. Am I really that forgetful? Or is my wife just exaggerating what our granddaughter went through? 

"Remember, honey, our daughter was sexually assaulted and had to give birth to Celine. But because of that, her own mother hated her because she looked like her assailant, which then led to Celine experiencing severe physical abuse, starvation, and neglect at a young age. It's no wonder why the bullying in school doesn't faze her; she's become accustomed to being treated like garbage by everyone! And I'm tired of it! If I have to become like Batman just to solely protect our granddaughter, then so be it!" My wife said passionately as she held onto my arms, trembling. 

"Then I just have to become your Robin too," I said to my wife, who held onto my hand, feeling reassured. 

"But you're right; she's been through so much. That's why I promise to protect her, no matter what. Even old age won't stop me from being there for my baby girl," I declared. 

"But that's what terrifies me, honey. We're growing older, and there may come a time when we can't be there for her. What if we pass away and her life gets even worse? Imagine if we leave her all alone. Would that mean we've failed as grandparents? I already feel like I've failed our daughter, but failing our granddaughter too... I don't think I could bear it," my wife confessed, tears welling in her eyes. 

"Don't worry. Celine is stronger than we think. If she's endured all that suffering, then she has the strength to carry on, even without us," I reassured her. 

"I hope you're right," she whispered softly. 

"Quick question, though—how did you manage to avoid trouble or attention for confronting those fifteen-year-old girls?" I asked, curious. 

"Oh, that? When you're a woman, especially an older one, you can almost get away with anything," she replied with a wry smile. 

After God, fear women. 

The next day arrived, and it was around the time that Celine should have been home by now, as her school finished an hour ago, and we don’t live far from the school. Actually, we live pretty close. 

RING! RING! RING! 

My phone went off. Ah, it’s from Celine. I was just about to call her. I pick up the phone, about to say hello— 

“GRANDPA! GRANDMA IS DEAD!”