There is one reason I love Saturdays. My karate.
I have accepted long ago that I can be aggressive. This is my solution.
Entering the dojo, I head towards the floor. It's in between third and fourth class right now.
"Zaili," an irate Joanne nods as she walks by. Forgive me for not appreciating her personality.
"Line up!" Shihan calls. We sat obediently. This is the one place where I don't mind being obedient.
Working my way through the long fourth class-which consisted of us practising using power in our mawashi giri kicks-was exhausting. I am thrilled to be here. By the time class had ended I had aquired a new bruise along my hip. I happens when there are more boys than girls.
"Are you taking care of that blade, little missy?" Sensei Sonya asks me as I line up for my personal favourite class.
Weapons class. I do the Bow Staff and the Katana Blade.
"Os Sensei!" I yell and bow. This woman could give me seventy push-ups for ignoring her. Don't fool with a Sensei.
"Kata icth!" Shihan yells and we comply immediately. Here in the weapons class, we kick it up a notch. We have to think for ourselves, and extreme obedience is a must. You can control your speed, your movement, your breathing, your mind, yourself in here.
So, basically, I want my life to be a weapons lesson.
Focusing on the way I bend my knees, on the angle of my blade, on the fearless glint I am supposed to have in my eyes. This makes me forget my life.
The entire hour I let go of my social problems. All I needed was my head. And a bandage every once in a while.
I hated that this is so short. I want more than just an hour weekly.
"Ready to go?" Ashton asked me as I exited off of the floor. His smile made me blush.
"Yeah, sure," I say, strapping the Katana Blade's bag across my back.
"Come on," he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me carefully across the road, into the food.
We played the entire mile and a half back to his house. We laughed and I talked, and at times I would play and he would simply just watch me.
I feel comfortable. And happy.
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Dla nastolatkówZaili Amberton is alone. The cliché is that she is surrounded. She is surrounded by family, by friends, by the Pack. By her fellow Morphs. But as new rivals strike up against everything that Zaili believes to be true, disaster strikes. With big shoe...
