"How can I be the problem, father? I never gave them a reason to hate me. I even pretended to like them."
The boy honestly explained.
"I cheated in the game only once. And that because the others were doing the same. So why did they only attack me? This is the fifth time now that this has happened. When will they stop?"
The boy spoke and sighed, expressing the weariness of a lifetime of being struck by his "friends."
"Fifth time?" the man mumbled to himself, carefully observing his son again. It was then that he noticed his son had a few light bruises on his body. At that moment, the man comprehended that his son's situation was a bit more serious.
"People don't always need a profound reason to hate something, son. Sometimes, they don't need a reason at all. They can hate anything that is unusual or anyone who is not like them," the man looked up at the sky as he spoke in a distant-sounding voice.
