I was twelve years old that year. The year everyone like to call important.

  They say it’s the year that decides your future. Do well in your exams and you get into a good school. Get into a good school and you get a good life. Fail… and, well, life quietly takes a different turn.

  I did not care.

  I was athletic. I had medals. Shiny ones. Heavy ones. The kind that clink together when you walk. Junior competitions loved me, and I loved them right back. Grades, on the other hand, were just numbers scribbled on paper. Most days, I treated school like an elaborate game of hide-and-seek—with the teachers playing unwilling participants.

  Judging by their expressions, I don’t think they enjoyed the game nearly as much as I did.

  That day, I decided to explore beyond the school boundary. Why? No idea. Perhaps it was a whim. Perhaps it was the sudden urge to feel brave. Brave against what? Against Ma, obviously. If she found out I skipped school, her all-mighty fist would descend and tenderize my muscles until I resembled very cooperative, very juicy meat. A fate I was not particularly eager to experience.

  So, with my life—and my limbs—on the line, I headed for the school gate, determined to see just how far my courage would actually take me.

  Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

  The school guard patrolled in front of the gate at precisely 2:49 in the afternoon. His boots struck the pavement with deliberate force, as if the ground itself owed him respect. Sweat streamed down his temples, darkening the collar of his uniform, and his face wore the unmistakable expression of a man silently declaring to the world: I shall work my paycheck.

  Then—

  Tring~

  “Hello, it is currently three p.m.”

  Tring~

  The alarm chimed again.

  And again.

  The guard flinched, fumbled for his phone, and finally slammed the stop button with more hostility than strictly necessary. He released a long, satisfied sigh, the kind that sounded like freedom. Raising his arms, he tugged off his cap and wiped his damp forehead. Then he turned, marched into the guard post, and shut the door with a heavy slam.

  Inside, he unbuttoned the first button of his uniform, loosened his belt, and collapsed into his chair as if gravity had suddenly doubled. With the last scraps of his remaining energy, he flicked on the table fan. Cool air washed over his face.

  One minute later, the guard post was filled with the unmistakable sound of loud, heroic snoring.

  Somewhere near the guard post…

  Shuffle. Shuffle.

  The bushes by the school gate rustled under the blazing afternoon sun, though not a single breath of wind stirred the air.

  Shuffle.

  Then the sound died.

  For a heartbeat, silence reclaimed the yard, as if whatever lurked inside the greenery had simply vanished.

  POP!

  A wild Llyne appeared.

  Only my head poked out from the leaves. Dirt clung stubbornly to my hair, twigs tangled in the strands like trophies of poor life choices. I plucked a leaf free and slowly scanned the area.

  “Three p.m.,” I murmured. “The guard’s sacred break time.”

  Snore~

  The sound drifted lazily from the post.

  My lips curved upward. Perfect. Looks like my plan might work.

  I crept toward the fence, still in my school uniform. Pale metal bars stood in neat, patient rows atop the low brick wall, far too innocent-looking to be trusted. I tapped one with a cautious finger, half-expecting the mad principal to have infused it with electricity.

  Nothing happened.

  I let out a quiet breath. “Phew. No surprise electrocution. If there was electricity, I’d have to come up with another plan.”

  Gripping the bars, I wedged a foot onto the brick ledge, hauled myself up, and slid over with a graceless little thump, barely managing to catch my balance on the other side.

  Easy peasy.

  I dusted off my hands and straightened, then peeked toward the guard post. The guard remained slumped in his chair, snoring peacefully, utterly oblivious to the escape unfolding beneath his nose. A slow grin spread across my face.

  This is way more exciting than I imagined.

  Turning toward the rows of shop lots beyond the school grounds, I hummed a little tune and set off, freedom just a few steps ahead.

  When I reached the shop lots, my chest swelled with pride.

  “I can’t believe I actually made it,” I whispered. “If Ma ever finds out about this…”

  The thought alone summoned her image with terrifying clarity.

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  Ma stood there, face perfectly relaxed, holding her beloved hammer, the one that clearly outranked me as her favorite child. It rested in her right hand while she tapped it softly, rhythmically, against her left palm.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  My back twitched. My throat tightened. My eyes squeezed shut on reflex, teeth grinding together as if bracing for impact. I bit my lip, torn between turning back quietly or continuing this adventure at my own risk. Either option felt dangerous in its own way. As I wavered, a burst of loud voices echoed down the street. I turned to my right. A group of boys in school uniforms came into view, their laughter sharp and careless. For a split second, I thought they were from my school—until I noticed the badge stitched onto their chests.

  Not mine.

  My school’s emblem was simple and familiar: a silver crest with an open book framed by laurel leaves, neat and understated. Theirs was different entirely: a bold emblem edged in red, sharp lines forming an aggressive symbol that seemed to glare back at me.

  My pulse skipped.

  Definitely not my school.

  However, as always, curiosity overrode all my thoughts. I edged backward until most of my body disappeared behind a store’s pillar, leaving only my head tilted just enough to spy on them. While they were distracted, I hopped from one shopfront to the next, smooth and careful, like a spy in those movies. Honestly, I think I did pretty well, considering they didn’t notice me at all. I crept closer and tucked myself behind a hanging flag banner, the fabric brushing my shoulder. I peeked out just enough to catch their conversation.

  That was my biggest mistake.

  They were cursing nonstop. The entire exchange was nothing but curses piled on top of curses, a sentence with no purpose beyond being loud and angry. I learned nothing from listening.

  But that wasn’t the real mistake. The real mistake was not paying attention to my surroundings.

  Just across the street, Ma stood there. Plastic bags bulged from both her hands, heavy with groceries from the local mall three blocks away. She didn’t shout. She didn’t scowl. She simply stared at me.

  No anger. No yelling. Somehow, that made it worse.

  I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that I was about to be fed into a grinder. I turned away, letting the breeze brush my face for one stolen second, as if it might grant me mercy. Then I dropped low. One knee touched the ground. My palms pressed against the pavement. My body leaned forward, weight coiled and ready, hips raised, every muscle pulled tight like a drawn bow.

  Ready.

  I sucked in a breath.

  “Go!”

  I launched forward the instant the word left my mouth, springing up and exploding into motion, just like a runner at the sound of the starting gun—no hesitation, no looking back, only flight. I ran at full speed. Faster than when my teachers chased after me. Heh! Ma can't catch me now.

  I risked a quick glance over my shoulder. My expression froze. A cloud of dust roared behind me, the air itself screaming in protest. At its center was Ma, running, closing the distance with terrifying ease. With every passing second, her figure sharpened. I’d expected fury. Instead, her face was calm. I knew that expression. That’s the look she gets when you’re already too deep to be saved.

  I snapped my gaze forward. “Gotta speed up!”

  I pushed harder, legs screaming, lungs burning. Pain flooded my muscles as I broke past limits I didn’t even know I had. I was certain I’d shattered every school record by now. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Not when my continued existence depended on it. We tore through seven blocks before everything went wrong. My body was yanked backward. My collar tightened around my throat as the world lurched, my feet leaving the ground. Air vanished from my lungs. A grip like iron locked me in place. My entire body trembled. My teeth clacked uncontrollably. Against all common sense, my eyes drifted back.

  Ma’s face swam into view. She was smiling.

  Oh. That smile. Oh, my life.

  My instincts kicked in and executed my final, most desperate strategy. I fainted. Not that it helped much whenever I did it. Ma stood there, still smiling, fingers hooked firmly in my collar, and began dragging me home. My body slid along the pavement like an offering being returned to its altar.

  We made it home with me still unconscious. Ma chose the most effective method of waking me up. She lowered me to the floor with surprising care, making sure my head didn’t take any damage. Then she placed a hand on my stomach and stroked it gently. Warm. Calm. Almost kind. Under normal circumstances, that would’ve been reassuring. With Ma, it was a warning.

  The next second, her fist rose high into the air. No hesitation. No mercy. Not that Ma ever had any. She drove the punch straight into my gut.

  “HHHAAAAAACCCKKKKK—!”

  My body snapped off the ground, head and legs lifting at the same time before gravity slammed me back down. The air tore itself out of my lungs as consciousness came rushing back.

  Slowly. Painfully. And very, very unwillingly.

  My eyes flickered open. A blurred shape loomed over me, horned and monstrous in my half-conscious haze.

  Ah… I’m in hell.

  “Get up. I know you’re awake.” Ma’s voice rang out, surprisingly calm. Not annoyed. Not angry.

  Ah… a familiar voice… Ma…

  There was a beat of silence as the thought finally landed.

  Wait. Ma?!

  My eyes cracked open. Ma stood above me, posture perfectly straight, expression unreadable. I turned my head to the side and squeezed my eyes shut again.

  Let’s play dead for now.

  Ma smiled softly. Her voice slipped out smooth as silk. “Looks like my baby isn’t awake yet. I suppose she could use another wake-up call.”

  She bent down. Her hands brushed my stomach. My entire body went rigid.

  Wait. That motion. Don’t tell me—!

  My eyes flew open. I hurled myself backward and flipped in a perfect somersault, landing with my knees, head, and both hands planted against the floor. “Ma! I—”

  Ma, clearly amused, settled onto the living room couch. She watched in silence as I rambled on and on, begging for unlimited chances and promising reform, my mouth drying out as I spilled nonsense I didn’t even remember thinking, let alone saying. While I talked myself into exhaustion, Ma’s gaze drifted around the house. Then it stopped. Something thin and glossy lay on the table. She reached for it. The brochure felt out of place in her hands, its surface too clean, its colors too sharp for our worn living room. The paper didn’t crinkle. It barely moved.

  “Say OUI to a life that lingers a little longer.”

  Her brows knit together. Strange. Where did this come from?

  Her expression darkened, the air in the room subtly shifting. Then her eyes returned to me. Her face softened. She is growing up. It would be normal for her to curse. It's not good to curse but if she were to say Oui every time she wants to curse, wouldn't that be... unusually polite?

  “Before that,” she mumbled softly to herself, “shall we have a little fun?”

  My body remained glued to the floor. At this point, I suspected I might fuse with it if I stayed any longer. “Ma, I swear! I’ve never skipped school before. I—”

  Ma chuckled and sighed. “Stop.”

  I clamped my mouth shut immediately, unwilling to push my luck. She lifted the brochure and held it up. “Did you bring this home?”

  I stole a quick glance at it and shook my head so fast my neck almost snapped. “N-no. Maybe it was Sis.”

  Ma placed the brochure back on the table. She studied me for a brief moment, then said, “From now on, if you want to curse, you’ll replace the word with ‘Oui.’”

  “Oui?” I stared at her, mind blank, utterly unable to process why this was suddenly a rule.

  Then it clicked. The memory of those boys from earlier flooded back, their voices stitched together entirely from curses.

  So… Ma isn’t angry that I skipped school. She’s angry that I learned to swear.

  “But… why…?” I glanced up slowly.

  Ma’s hand closed around the hammer of love. She raised it. I leaned backward on instinct, throwing both hands up to shield myself. “I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

  Ma lowered the hammer, set it aside, and left the room without another word. The moment she was gone, my stiff body collapsed fully onto the floor. I nodded to myself, solemn and enlightened. Cooperation is the only path to survival.

  And that was how I learned another great lesson in life.

  Of course, the night didn’t end peacefully. Ma received a call from the principal. The whole neighborhood heard my scream.