02
Now, everything I held onto had been torn to shreds by her. I struggled to get up, yelling and rushing towards Jasmine, biting her wrist.
“Ahh! You rabid dog!” she screamed, clutching her hand in pain. Without hesitation, she grabbed her shiny new iPhone and smashed it into my face over and over. Blow after blow, until the world around me spun and I collapsed to the ground again.
Jasmine stood over me, her teeth clenched in fury. “An orphan like you. Even if someone beat you to death, no one would care. Beat her to death!”
Terrified they might actually kill me, I mustered every ounce of strength I had left and bolted for the door. Blood trickled down my forehead, blurring my vision as I ran. People on the street gave me strange looks, but I didn’t care. I just kept running.
I finally understood. My repeated tolerance had only resulted in escalating abuse. This time, no matter what, I had to find a counselor and demand justice for myself.
As I arrived at the office, I saw the counselor showcasing her new luxury handbag to her coworkers. I cried as I stumbled inside and yelled her name in desperation for assistance. “Ms.
Cynthia.”
She froze, her eyes scooting over me and then waved her hand at me like I was some pest. “Shoo, shoo! Look at the state of you. Don’t dirty my new bag.”
Only after she had carefully set her bag aside did she finally glance at me with annoyance.
“What is it now?”
“Jasmine Zelman and her friends have been bullying me nonstop! Today, they even beat me up like this!” I said urgently, pointing at my forehead.
“Who? Jasmine?” Cynthia’s eyes darted around, then she sighed. “It’s normal for students to have scuffles. It’s not really something teachers should get involved in.”
Not get involved? I thought I’d misheard. Was this something a teacher should say? When I came to my senses, I asked again, “What about my scholarship?”
“Ms. Cynthia. That scholarship is still mine, right? No one’s taken it, have they?” I held my tears and met her guilty eyes.
She pretended to be busy, took a sip of tea and spoke for a long time. “I forgot to inform you about this. Jasmine needs the scholarship more than you do.”
A surge of anger rushed to my head. I felt like my entire worldview had been shattered. “Jasmine is rich! Why does she need to take a poor person’s scholarship?”
“Equal opportunities. Just because someone has money doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a scholarship.” Her tone grew increasingly impatient.
I choked on my words, “But I’m an orphan. How am I supposed to survive without the scholarship?”
ne dess it eat
I’ll Be Your Pride
A sneer crept onto her lips. “Sure. You’re an orphan, but nowhere in the rules does it say scholarships are only for orphans. Do you know how many orphans there are in the world? Should we give them all money?”
Just then, the phone on her desk lit up and Cynthia instinctively tapped it. Jasmine’s voice
came through clearly. “Ms. Cynthia, do you like the bag my mom gave you? Oh, by the way, that girl might come running to you soon. You know what to do, right?”
Cynthia panicked and quickly tried to hang up, but it was too late–I’d heard everything. Shaking, I pointed at the designer bag on her desk. “So … you sold me out for their bribes? You’re forcing me into a corner because of some handouts from her parents?”
Cynthia’s face twisted in anger when she got caught red–handed. She grabbed a book and hurled it at my head. “How dare you accuse me of such things? I’m always fair and impartial! My students would never bully anyone!”
Already weakened, I couldn’t dodge the blow. The book struck me hard and I collapsed to th ground.
Cynthia looked down at me, her eyes filled with malice. “Let me give you some advice. Jasmine’s family has connections. Meanwhile, you? You’re just an orphan. Going up against h
against h
is a death sentence.”
