4 years later.

August 7th at Wind village.

Abony's POV.

Down to the schoolyard, Dracontomelon flowers fell on my shoulders and hair. I looked up at the young Dracontomelon petals popping out into a bunch of white as small as tiny bells.

“She doesn't have a mother. No one taught her to be polite to the teacher.” The girls gossiped around me.

“Wow, that's beautiful!” I exclaimed in my throat.

Surprisingly, I was still the center of the story. Though my punishment became boring, notwithstanding, I was wrong, my classmates cared about me more than I thought.

“Hey, Abony. No one comes to take you home, don't you?” A girl in the group ran over and asked.

“So? What does that have to do with you?” I answered honestly.

The girl shouted with joy and ran to her friends who waited in the distance. “See? She's ungenteel.” - Paused for a moment, she continued. - “She's a disrespectful, poor, and unschooled child.”

"Don't play with her,” the girl standing next to her said.

“So loud, those little ones,” I mumbled.

I didn't mind what they said while still bothered me sometimes as much as I didn't care about the mosquitoes but they made me itch. Moreover, the girls backbit each other all day and gossiped about the “hot boys” in school. Ordinarily, If it was not about those things, it was the scores.

What a bunch of boredom!

I was a student in class 11A2, a natural science class at Happy High School. If someone asked me how a math-blind like me got into this class, I would say it was luck. Conversely, the truth was that my father spent a lot of money on the principal to let me sit in this class.

Should I be grateful to my respectable father?

In math class, I yawned while the teacher talked. Dracontomelon flowers fell on the ground beyond the windows, the tiny white petals look like the snowy picture on the cover of a magazine, flipped through the back of my math book, and began to draw the wonderful moment.

“Abony, help me solve the next problem.” The teacher looked at me and said.

Oh my gosh, I'm in trouble. The math teacher was always annoying and broke my imagination.

“Which one, miss?” With an absent-minded expression, I asked.

“What are you doing all this time without listening to me? Alright, Standing out in the hallway.” Her eyes glared at me as if I had committed a terrible mistake, she growled.

“Okay.” I yawned and walked out into the hallway.

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Since high school, I had no reason to go to class anymore. The stupid ministry of education cut fine arts out of the curriculum. Well, I had been a nerd since that day. In middle school, fine arts saved my boring student life, accordingly, the art teacher loved me and considered me a precious gem. Now it went different because the teachers of natural subjects saw me as a thorn in the eye.

***

“Oh shit.” I flopped on the wooden couch in the living room.

Walked a long way, and I finally came home. All these years, our house has remained unchanged. It was a small wooden house next to a cool stream.

“Girl, wash your hands and come in to eat,” my father shouted.

“Wow, did you make braised fish today? Since when did you become the ideal old mother?” I asked with an amused smile on my mouth.

“Too much talk. Sit down and eat!” Pulled a chair and sat down at the table, my father said.

After washing my hands, surprised at the sumptuous meal that my father cooked. We had braised fish, boiled vegetables, and a bowl of squash soup. I scooped the rice into the bowl for my father first, then me. Father used his chopsticks to take the fish into my bowl as a concern.

Raised my eyes and peeked at him as he ate. The wrinkles on his face became more and more frequent, gray hair interspersed with black hair, I could not remember the last time I looked at my father as a young man.

“By the way, I got the message from your school,”

“What's the message?”

“The school organizes extra…,”

“I'm not joining.” Before my father could finish his sentence, I answered.

“Why? Why don't you go? You study so badly without worrying about taking extra tutoring. How long you could make me proud, Abony?” My father put his chopsticks down on the bowl, making a shrill sound.

“We are poor, dad. I just wanna save money for you. Why do you have to imitate people around?”

“I'm your father, Abony. I have enough money to take care of you. Don't talk too much, just sign up.” He looked up into my eyes, his brows furrowed.

“I don't want.”

“Listen to me, Abony. Sign up for a remedial class. I'll pay for it, you don't have to care about that.” His face was serious and turned red.

“No, I don't want. Why do you keep forcing me to learn what I'm bad at?”

My father's gaze changed from soft to hard, stood up and approached me, his sharp eyes meeting my stubborn eyes.

“Don't speak too much. One is to sign up for a remedial class, the other is to get out of my house.” Father pointed his index finger at the door and continued. “Remember what I'm about to say, Abony.” Without giving me time to answer, he continued: “As long as you use my money, you have to listen to me.” He ate the little ones on the tables.

“Are you my father? How could you let out such cruel words?” I pursed my lips and rolled my fingers to form a fist.

My father reached into his pocket and pulled out the old phone. After pressing to call someone, he brought the phone to his left ear.

“Yes, hello teacher. Of course, Abony'll sign up for a tutoring class. Yes, yes, thanks.”

“I got registered. You'll go to school at 1 PM o'clock tomorrow.” In a determined voice, my father looked at me and said.

"Okay, it's up to you."

I turned away and went outside, standing beside the stream in front of my house. The sun burned in my face; boredom surrounded me. Stepped up to the canopy of the giant old tree and looked at its burnt orange flowers. After sitting down on the grass and watching the small fish swim in the murmuring stream.

I was a fish as well as my job was to swim. Why did my father insist on forcing a fish like me to climb a tree? It was ridiculous and stupid! Father, teacher, school, and the whole ministry of education.

All of them were idiots!

Father stood at the door and looked at me. What else was he wanted to say? Neither did I want to see him nor any more conversations. Consequently, I ran to a place where I used to go to heal my soul. At White Rabbit Park, I curled up under the slide.

Looking down at the ground, a sense of security returned to my soul; nobody bothered and saw my tears. It felt like time had stopped while I was invisible here. Nevertheless, there was someone who always found me...