I used to steal my poor classmate’s lunch every day…until I found out who was really rich.

I was the terror of the school. That’s not an exaggeration, it’s a fact. When I walked through the hallways, the younger children would look down, and the teachers would pretend not to see certain things.

My name is Sebastian. I’m an only child. My father was an influential politician, one of those who appear on television smiling while talking about “equal opportunities.”

My mother owned a chain of luxury spas. We lived in a mansion so large that the silence echoed in the hallways.

I had everything a boy my age could want: the most expensive sneakers, the latest iPhone, designer clothes, a credit card that seemed to have no limit.

But I also had something that no one saw: a heavy, thick loneliness that accompanied me even when I was surrounded by people.

In school, my power was based on fear. And like any coward with power, I needed a victim.

Tomás was that victim.

Tomás was the scholarship student. The one who was always at the back of the classroom. The one who wore the uniform inherited from some unknown cousin.

He walked with his shoulders hunched and his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he were asking for forgiveness for existing.

He always carried his lunch in a wrinkled brown paper bag, stained with oil that betrayed simple, repetitive meals.

For me, it was a perfect target.

Every day, during recess, I repeated the same “prank.” I would snatch the bag from his hands, climb onto a table, and shout so everyone could hear:

—Let’s see what garbage the little prince from the favela brought today!

Laughter erupted like fireworks. I lived for that sound. Tomás never fought back. He didn’t shout. He didn’t push.

He would just stand there, his eyes bright and red, silently pleading for it all to end quickly. I would take out his food—sometimes a bruised banana, sometimes cold rice—and throw it in the trash as if it were contaminated.

Afterwards, I would go to the cafeteria and buy pizza, hamburgers, whatever I wanted, paying with my card without looking at the price.

I never thought of that as cruelty. To me, it was entertainment.