Daggers of Love

Farewell and First Impression

I meticulously loaded all of my luggage into the bus in preparation for our departure. As the moment neared, my father proceeded to start the car's engine. My attention shifted to my mother, who was visibly emotional.

"Mom, you knew this day would come, so why get emotional now?" I consoled her with a comforting embrace.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she replied, "I know, but I couldn't help it." I moved closer to her.

I attempted to lighten the mood, saying, "Stop crying, Mom. If you keep this up, I might as well join you, and people will start wondering who died." She managed a smile.

Reminding her of my imminent return, I added, "I'm only going to school, Mom; I'll be back soon."

She confessed, "I'm going to miss you, son."

I replied, "Me too, Mama... please take care of yourself," as we separated. She encouraged me to make her proud, and with that, I boarded the bus.

Bid farewell to my mother and closed the door. My father then drove off, embarking on our journey to my new school.

It took a while before we arrived at the school gate, and immediately, I was utterly astounded at my first glance of the school.

Upon arriving at the school gate, it became immediately evident that I was in awe of the school's grandeur.

As we entered the school grounds for the first time, the sight that unfolded before me left an indelible impression. The school building itself was a remarkable and imposing structure, seamlessly blending historic architecture with modern functionality.

The exterior of the school and its grand entrance gate made a statement about the institution. It was a sight to behold, and my anticipation for the upcoming experience grew.

Approaching the school gate, a security guard inquired about our purpose. "Hey, what’s your business here?"

"Good morning. This is my son, Peter. He has been granted admission to this prestigious school through a scholarship," my father explained, pointing towards me.

The guard acknowledged, "I see; that clarifies the presence of the bus." Subsequently, the guard initiated a comprehensive inspection of the bus.

Initially, I assumed it was a standard security protocol, but the thoroughness of the inspection extended to my personal belongings, dampening the initial optimism I had felt.

Observing other vehicles entering the school without similar scrutiny, I questioned the fairness of our treatment, given that our bus was the only one subjected to such thorough examination.

Although the cars were exotic and not a commercial bus like my dad's, it didn't justify the way we were being treated. It seemed rude and unfair.

I looked at my father, expecting him to say something or stop the guard from going through my things, but instead, he was smiling, which was unsettling.

The discrepancy in treatment troubled me. It seemed incongruous with the values my father had instilled in me.

"We don’t deserve to be treated this way," I thought to myself.

" I'm sorry, sir, I cannot permit you to drive this bus further," the guard said, pointing at the bus with disdain, notwithstanding the odd inspection we had endured.

I protested, "But look, there are other vehicles entering without such scrutiny, those vehicles." I pointed to cars entering the school without the impediments we faced.

The guard retorted, "Yes, but you cannot compare this bus to those cars. They serve different purposes."

This incongruity with my father's teachings left me questioning the world we had entered.

"Is this the world my father was talking about?" I asked myself.

"It doesn't mean a thing; they are all means of transportation. Everyone should be allowed regardless of their vehicle," I said, glaring at him.

"Enough, Peter, where are your manners?" Dad scolded, giving me a warning glare, and then turned to the guard.

Dad intervened diplomatically, saying, "I apologize for any inconvenience, sir. We understand your concerns. However, what should we do about the luggage in this bus? I need to assist my son in settling into his dorm, a task that cannot be accomplished from this location."

The guard reluctantly scrutinized the bus once more before reluctantly granting us permission to proceed.  "Alright... Just go ahead,"

We expressed our gratitude, and Dad drove through the gate.

Reflecting on the exchange with the guard, my father offered some guidance. He acknowledged my assertion of standing my ground but cautioned that it should not be achieved through confrontational means.

"The way you spoke to that man was out of line. That's disrespectful," my dad said.

"But, Dad, you told me not to let them intimidate me and always stand my ground, which is exactly what I did," I replied.

"I know what I told you, but you should know that violence doesn't always resolve things; it creates enmities," Dad said.

"In this environment, it's best to avoid unnecessary conflicts," he advised. "Trust me, you don't want to create enmities here."

Recognizing the merit of his counsel, I apologized for my outburst.

"It's okay. Just be careful with them," he said, and then continued driving.

My initial unhappiness quickly dissipated as we entered the school compound. I was mesmerized by what I saw as we entered the school.

I felt a mixture of awe and trepidation as I entered the sprawling campus of my new school, known only to the privileged few.

This institution exuded opulence and grandeur at every turn, a world apart from anything I’d ever experienced.

The school’s campus was a vast estate, reminiscent of a European chateau. High, wrought-iron gates adorned with intricate scrollwork opened into a meticulously manicured courtyard.

A cobblestone driveway, flanked by perfectly pruned hedges, led to the main building. Tall, regal statues of historical figures adorned the courtyard, serving as silent sentinels to the school’s legacy.

The main building was a palace in itself, a pristine white edifice with elegant columns and marble steps that gleamed in the sunlight. Enormous glass windows, reflecting the blue sky, showcased the school’s prosperity.

I couldn't help but notice the students who filled the courtyard. They were the epitome of privilege, dressed in designer clothing and the latest fashion trends.

Their posture exuded confidence, and they moved in social circles that seemed impenetrable. Expensive watches adorned their wrists, and luxury cars lined the parking lot.

I looked beside me and realized I wasn't the only one captivated by this heavenly place; my dad was also mesmerized by the sight to the point where he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going.

I looked ahead and realized my dad had lost focus and was heading towards a Lamborghini in front of us. Without hesitation, I screamed out, "DAD, WATCH OUT!"