My eyes dimmed open in the dead of night; the excruciating pain from the ceaseless strokes I had received earlier from my physics teacher made it impossible for me to sleep.

“Uncle John has bitten off more than he can chew…” I muttered, blowing on my swollen skin to lessen the pain. The annoying part was that the night seemed to last forever.

At last, morning came. Reluctantly, I got up and washed the dishes, a daily routine I dared not object to. I was the last born, and my siblings were already in higher institutions, so I was the only child at home with my parents.

My dad watched me keenly for a while.
“Daniel, why aren’t you dressed for school yet? What do you think the time is?” he blurted out.

“I’m not going to school today,” I muttered, sadness plastered on my face.

“Why?”

Silence.

“Aren't you the one I’m talking to?” he shouted, standing up.

My face dropped as I stared at my bruises. I couldn’t find the words to explain the embarrassment I’d felt from Uncle John beating me in front of my classmates. The incident is still etched in my heart and memory. But I knew my father; if I didn’t reply now, I’d be in big trouble.

“I was beaten by my teacher yesterday, boohoo!” I cried.

“What for? What did you do?”

“I don’t know. He was just beating me non-stop. Look at my body.”

“What?” he shrieked. “Why would a teacher beat you up like this? What nonsense!”

I grinned when I saw anger flicker in his eyes.

“Go and get dressed. I’m coming with you,” he ordered and dashed into his room.

I rushed into the bathroom, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

My dad, well-kitted in his camouflage uniform, bore three six-pointed stars vertically aligned on his chest. He asked two First Lieutenants, who had stayed the previous night at our house, to join him.

Yes! I exclaimed silently; the joy of going to school with my dad alleviated the pain from my bruises.

My father, a captain in the army, had zero tolerance for nonsense. Once Dad came to my school, everyone would respect me, and as for Uncle John, he would get what he truly deserved.

“He’s forming discipline master; his cable has burned today,” I scoffed, relishing the thought. Bam, we were already in front of my school.

Dad honked several times, but the gateman refused to open the gate, sensing danger. The two First Lieutenants jumped out of the Hilux and threatened to hit the old man, who quickly opened the gate to save his head.

We stormed into the school compound and headed for the principal’s office. All eyes were on us; I could feel classes pausing to glimpse the scene, and students lost concentration in their lectures. Soon, I heard the cheers of my classmates in SS1 Diamond.

“Daniel, go to your class. I will call you when I need you,” my dad ordered.

“Daniel, Daniel, Daniel!” my classmates chanted, throwing their fists in the air, banging desks, and clapping as I approached the class. I smirked.

“Beautiful! Exactly what I wanted. I’ve always told them stories about my dad; now they will believe me,” I thought as I entered my class. I shook hands with friends and hugged some. Others pushed me slightly in excitement.

“Uncle John will see the king today,” they shrieked in anticipation.

In no time, I lifted my head and saw my dad walking toward me with the two First Lieutenants, Uncle John, and the principal behind him.

“Daniel?” he called out.

I stood and stepped out from my seat. My dad yanked my collar and—pah!

My face dropped, and I bit my tongue in confusion. Why did Dad slap me? Cold shivers ran down my spine, pinning me to the spot.

“Daniel, for the last time, why did your teacher beat you?” he glared.

“Ehm, ehm… he asked us to stop making noise, and I hissed. He asked why I hissed and cussed out. He then asked me to stand up and close my eyes, but I walked out of the class. He flogged me on my back, and I yanked the cane and insulted him. He started beating me…”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? You were evasive. Did you think I would come to your school and start ranting or fighting your teacher without investigating? You must be joking.

“Da...d—”

“Don’t say a word. No teacher in his right mind would beat up a child for no reason. If any such teacher exists, I will handle him. But in this case, you were wrong, and I will deal with you for that.”

Pah, pah! More slaps landed on my face. He shoved me to the floor and trounced on me, forcing me to cover my head.

The school authorities started pleading with him to stop beating me. All my cheerleaders suddenly became silent. Bringing my dad to school was a dead loss. My father apologized to the teacher and the management and left.

“You will meet me at home,” he snapped and left.

I knew going home would be the end of me. At the close of school, Uncle John followed me home to plead with my mother. I had already apologized to him at school. My mother said she had heard him and would appeal to my dad on his return. I looked into my mother’s eyes; I knew those eyes better than anyone.

“Uncle John, please don’t go. Mummy is a retired headmistress; she will add pepper to the injury,” I kept calling out in my heart. If only he could read my thoughts. The teacher I once hated was now my saving grace.

“I beg to leave now, ma'am. I’m sure Daniel has learned his lesson,” Uncle John said and left.

“Daniel!” my mum shrieked. “Come here!”

I felt my heartbeat increase to the highest volume. My feet trembled.

It was difficult to tell if my mum’s strokes were more painful than my dad’s blows.

“Kneel and open your hand. If I hear a pin drop, the strokes I’m giving you now are just a preparation. When your dad returns, he will continue. Next time, no one will teach you how to behave well. You think because your dad is a captain you have a license to misbehave? We will shock you tonight.”

Later, Daniel apologized to his teacher in class when he realised his mistake and promised to turn a new leaf.