Rumors swirl about Tay Tawan, claiming he is the son of a Chiang Mai butcher.
In the bustling streets of Chiang Mai, a lively livestock market thrived.
Stories circulated that he resided in a place where the sounds of animal limbs being severed, bones breaking, blood flowing, and intestines repurposed for human consumption filled the air, painting a vivid and mysterious backdrop to his origins.
When the other guys laid eyes on Tay's dad, they began joking about butchers and all that lower-grade stuff. It was quite a scene watching people who didn't give a darn about meat looking down on Tay's father just because of his profession. What added to the absurdity was how they whispered behind his back while maintaining a facade of silence in Tay Tawan's presence.
They quivered in fear of him because of his towering stature, standing over 190 centimeters tall, surpassing even the school's basketball team members in height.
In his presence, they resembled a shrinking stick in a scorching oil stove, putting on a front of timidity, only to snicker behind his back, a sight that was far from pleasant. Upon closer inspection, I found myself puzzled as to why they engaged in such behavior. Yet, truth be told, I was no different from them.
I felt uneasy around the domineering and aggressive Tay Tawan, but truth be told, I was downright terrified.
~
The summer of my sophomore year in high school turned out to be quite uneventful. School felt monotonous, offering the perfect setting for boredom to settle in. Unlike the upcoming third year, where the pressure of college entrance exams looms large and the first year is bustling, the sophomore year seems... well, just sophomore. It lacked any excitement.
As a typical student, my days were usually spent in class, focusing on studies and observing various things. However, today was different.
I was desperate to leave that classroom. The air conditioner was kaput, and the breeze felt as scorching as the heat. Despite that, those classmates were adamant about keeping the windows shut, making it impossible to get any fresh air. The dusty stench was relentless, constantly irritating my nose. I had to endure the deafening fan dangling precariously from the ceiling, but let's face it, I was practically roasting in there. If it's self-study time, I should assertively inform the teacher and make my way home.
I was really struggling more than the others with the heat. I was sweating buckets, my face all red, and my lips dry and pale, looking like I was sick. I felt so uncomfortable, squirming helplessly at my desk.
My friend patted me on the shoulder and said, "Hey, just go to the teacher's office. It's a self-study time, so take care of yourself." I struggled to respond clearly, but managed to mumble, "Okay, I'll go to the teacher's office then..."
With determination, I repeated, "So... I'm heading to the office... I'll be back."
However, my words came out in a garbled mess, filled with strange breathing sounds.
I was allowed to leave once I reached the office and spoke to the teacher. My face was bright red, and my breathing was off, which was unusual for me as I'm not usually one to give in easily.
"Oh, I think I'll head to the teacher's office too," my friends whispered as I returned to the classroom. "But I can't compete with New Thitipoom. Look at that guy's face." Envy was evident in their voices. I silently packed my bag, tuning out their comments as I lacked the energy to respond. All I wanted was to get home and rest.
Finally, in the comfort of my own space.
~
The walk from school to my house wasn't far. I strolled for about 20 minutes after leaving through the back door to reach home. Taking the bus, even though it was just a few stops, ended up taking longer due to the long intervals and the bus route winding around. Walking down the alley from the back gate was definitely the quicker option.
