Chapter Song Recommendation; Impossible by Shontelle

"The reason I’m here is.... is because..... Ahem!"

I feel ashamed to say it out loud and tell them all. I can’t lie about the reason I am here to learn self-defense moves, can I?

But the way they are all here, sitting on the floor and forming a small circle around me is not making that easy. "I’m being bullied by some of my schoolmates." I say in a low, voice.

"It is bad." I sigh to allow some air into my throat as it kinda feels like it is closing up. "I really want to escape it. But then, that would mean dropping out of the school. And I’m on scholarship, which I really do not want to lose. So. . . uhmm, I had spoken with my Dad about it yesterday.

He found out on his own. I never planned on telling him and telling. . . . anyone. He brought me here an hour ago, and here I am." I concluded the explanation. I had not gone into details of what the bullying is like, but why do I still feel like I’m breaking inside?

I’m currently fiddling with my fingers, and I’m suddenly reminded of the time that Calyx had stepped on my fingers so hard with his boot like he wanted to crush it when I had tried to pick my book up from the ground that had fallen. It has been a while since it happened. But I still feel the pain in my fingers. It felt like they were about to come off under the hard sole of his boot that day.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, I look to see a boy holding out a handkerchief to me. He wordlessly gestures to my eyes when I did not take it as I am wondering why he is giving it to me. I feel it just then. A hot tear seeping out from the side of my eyes. I had felt it stinging with tears but I did not know they were enough to be noticed, much less leak out. My voice sounds broken as I tell him thank you. While dabbing the piece of cloth at my eyes, I noticed that everyone’s

faces that had been previously tight before now looks solemn in pity expression towards me. The fat man, Tianjin. They call him master. He stands up and leaves. I was wondering why the students did not follow him. But he comes back later carrying something in his hand. It looks like clothes—no wait, it is like the same white uniform the others are wearing. He comes to where I was sitting, standing a few inches away from me. I stand up too because it seems like what he is holding is meant for me, and it seems rude to be sitting in his close presence like that. "The tradition here is for you to pass the basic levels of training before you would get a gi . But I’m making an exception for you. But let me be clear that you have to train very hard to prove why you deserve it." He says, then holds it out and down for me to receive.

"T. .Thank you." I said. "No, you bow!" Someone at my left side whispers to me. I didn’t understand but did it anyway. A head bow. The same one I saw that girl do earlier. The man makes a humming sound of approval.

************************

"What do you want, to kick oranges at my forehead again?" I ask the girl who is walking besides me. You’ve probably guessed who she is.

"I am very sorry about that." I glance at her strangely. What’s with her?

She sounded cocky and was rubbing it in my face earlier. Now she looks all apologetic. Does it have to do with what I had told them a few hours back?

We just closed from the studio a while ago, and she is following me. When I asked why she was, she told me that she was going to her house which was pretty close by unlike mine. I am heading to the main road which would lead me to the bus station and get myself home. It has been an unexpected, and busy day. My knuckles hurt from learning how to give a fist strike.

"Look, what I did earlier was not actually intentional. It is all part of the training." My brows pinches at her words. "Part of the training, you say?"

In the bus, I think about what that girl told me. She said that they make it a tradition to bully a newbie. She explained that it was mostly harmless; like throwing something at them or gaslighting and causing an altercation that would mostly lead to a fight in which the person would be beaten. According to her, that was an effective way to make them serious in the training and get better in the hopes of fighting back. It sounds a little diabolical but it is effective. No lie about that. She also told me that they were instructed by the master to not carry that out on me because I’m also going through bullying at school. That was the exception. She said she was exempted from it too because she was also victim of bullying.

When I got home, mom had already made dinner. Delicious raspberry pancakes. They are my favorite of all pancakes. I thought she was mad at me. But then she made my favorite food. This suddenly feels like a good, clear time to try and strike up a conversation. We can’t keep eating in uncomfortable silence. "How was work?" I started. "It is a little better than before." She responded in a light tone, taking a fork portion of her pancakes into her mouth. I did not think she would respond so well to me. "Not as boring as it was." She chirps.

"Danielle had returned from her honeymoon trip. And her chattiness has grown so much. It is nice to hear her speak about how her honeymoon vacation went.

But I cannot help but think that she is rubbing it in my face, you know."