rookie versus professional [yoel/dominic] blitz

So many hours wasted away inside one building and every second is a tedious drag that feels like an eternity. My mind can only wander to the time outside, memories of moments where I was once free of this educational prison. I can refuse the training to kill kids, but I cannot refuse pointless knowledge. I guess it is a step to this peacekeeper dream of mine but after a long lecture of ”the only way you can get a piece of that white armour is if you become a career.” There must be another journey to that path, why must training for the games be the key to protecting citizens?

Physical education, some relief from the geometry and physics that has numbed my brain this morning. Summer still states its presence in the school yard as I line up with all the other kids in my class. Dressed in the usual black shirt and shorts and dirty blue sneakers. Anticipation fills my veins; will it be a game of soccer or the dreaded cross-country run? Nope! The teacher throws a pair of boxing pads to my feet. ”Staite, you partner up with Merluccius. Be defence!” Great, scrawny kid like me gets paired up with a career, honestly this teacher wants to break.

I slip my hand into the boxing pads, clearly uncleaned from the last use as the ancient sweat of the hundreds of past students that have wielded them attacks my palms. I hope the peacekeeper armour isn’t second hand. I raise them out in front of me, one just covering my face and the other line with my shoulders. ”Show me what they teach you in that centre career boy.”