Matteo's bad luck didn't stop.
The next day at work, as he was stocking shelves in the grocery store, a woman suddenly collapsed onto him. Her body pressed against his, and in a blink, they both crashed onto the cold tile floor. The impact wasn't severe, but the woman let out a piercing scream as if she had been attacked.
Gasps filled the store. Eyes turned to Matteo, judgmental, disgusted, as if they had already decided he was guilty.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" his boss thundered, storming toward the scene.
Matteo scrambled up, hands raised in defense. "I.....I didn't do anything! She fell on me!"
The woman whimpered, clutching her arm dramatically. "H....he touched me," she murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Matteo felt the blood drain from his face. "That's not true! She....she fell! You all saw it!"
His boss didn't care. He only saw a problem he needed to get rid of. "You're useless!" he spat. "I should've never hired you. First, you hide your face like some criminal, and now this? Get out! You're fired."
Matteo opened his mouth to fight back, but then he saw the expressions around him—pity, distrust, indifference. No one cared. No one ever cared.
The words caught in his throat. He lowered his head and walked out, fists clenched at his sides.
That night, he went home and sat in silence. The walls of his house felt suffocating, but there was no one to turn to. No comfort. Just the emptiness and the weight of failure pressing down on him again. He wanted to scream, but all he did was pull out Eliane's assignment and force himself to work through it.
The next day, he arrived at the extra class, the last shreds of his willpower holding him together. He handed his assignment to Eliane without a word, staring at the floor, waiting.
Eliane barely glanced at it before tearing it apart in front of the whole class. The sound of ripping paper echoed in the room, louder than his heartbeat, louder than the screams in his mind.
"What the hell is this?" she sneered, letting the torn pieces flutter to the ground. "Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."
Matteo stood frozen. His breath came in shallow gasps. The humiliation stung, but more than that...it broke something inside him.
His remaining strength to fight vanished.
Eliane kept talking, her words sharp, cutting, cruel. Matteo didn't hear most of them. He just nodded numbly, taking the punishment like he always did. Like he always had.
That night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his body unmoving, his mind screaming. The world was cold, cruel, and it would never change. He had tried. God, he had tried.
But there was no one to hear him. No one to support him. Only his pillow absorbed his tears, the only thing witnessing his pain.
He thought about ending it there.
The idea sat heavily in his mind, whispering promises of peace. He imagined the silence after. No more suffering. No more failure. No more humiliation.
His body moved on its own, slow and mechanical. He was ready to take the step.
Then....
The doorbell rang.
The sound shattered the suffocating silence. Matteo stood frozen, staring at the door, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
Another ring. And another.
With sluggish steps, he moved forward and opened it.
The doctor stood there, holding a bag of food. His face was calm but his eyes searched Matteo's, filled with an understanding that Matteo didn't deserve.
"You didn't visit me this week," the doctor said quietly. "I got worried."
Matteo didn't speak. His throat burned, his vision blurred. Before he could stop himself, he collapsed forward, arms wrapping around the doctor in a desperate embrace.
The doctor didn't flinch. He held him, steady and warm, a quiet anchor in the storm.
They sat together on the couch, eating in silence. The food tasted bland, but Matteo ate because the doctor was there, watching him, making sure he was okay. And maybe, for the first time in a long time, Matteo believed that someone actually cared.
"You're not weak," the doctor said suddenly. "You've been fighting every day. That's more strength than most people have."
Matteo swallowed hard. His hands trembled as he set down his plate. "It doesn't feel like strength."
"Because you're carrying too much alone," the doctor said. "But you're still here. And that matters."
Matteo didn't know what to say to that. He just nodded, gripping his sleeve tightly. That night, he didn't cry himself to sleep. The pain was still there, but it felt…..... bearable.
The next day, he went to class again. He took every insult, every punishment from Eliane, every judgmental glance from his peers. He absorbed it all like a sponge, letting it soak into him without reaction. He didn't stop. He didn't break.
And he started his investment again. From zero.
This time, he was smarter. No mistakes. No rushed decisions. He studied the market, calculated every move, pulled his earnings when necessary. He played it safe, controlled. It wasn't about getting rich...it was about proving that he could rise again.
As the final exams approached, Matteo's wealth had grown significantly. He had more money than he had ever dreamed of, but he told no one. Not even the doctor.
When he needed money, he still took a small amount from the doctor so that nothing seemed unusual. If the doctor suspected anything, he didn't mention it.
Then, at last, it was over. College ended. Matteo had passed.
And so, with his diploma in hand, he went to meet the doctor.
He stood in front of the familiar hospital, his heart heavy with everything they had been through. The door opened before he could knock, and there was the doctor, looking at him with that same calm understanding.
Matteo inhaled sharply.
For the first time in years, he felt like he had something to say.
Something that mattered.
And for once, he knew that someone would listen.
"Excuse me," the sister's voice brought Matteo back from his dream.
"Excuse me, sir, but the doctor...." The nurse said something to Matteo.
Matteo's diploma slipped from his hands.