Inspired by - 3. Prompt 34 - Scary Teacher

As I stood face to face with the woman in front of me I realized that I was in trouble. She was confident, strong, and nearly half my size. Anyone who says strength belongs to those who are large in size has never met anyone like Cassandra. The woman was the definition of control but then again she was also the sensei here.

When you are a slender little kid being beaten up every time you turn around occasionally someone will decide you need to defend yourself. I was more in the camp of learning to be a very, very fast runner. I’d learned early on that bruises don’t happen if you can’t be caught. Of course I also forgot the bully code, where there is one, there is many.

My mother decided she had seen enough bruises; blood stains, and scrapes on me and my clothing so she put me into a karate class. For a kid who never did pushups or liked to do much physical work this was pure hell. Three times a week I slid into my gi and went to class. I had a hard time doing the pushups but was grateful I was still in the young adult class where we did regular pushups. The adults I had seen doing the same classes after us did the pushups on their knuckles.

I learned my kata’s from Sensei Arnold but occasionally Sensei Cassandra showed up to see how things were going. She was faster and a lot more demanding then her male counterpart. I managed to get through the class after a few months. I earned my white belt with yellow tips. Once you had gotten your green tips, the green belt was the next that you had to earn. Well the night before our test for the new belt, Sensei Cassandra showed up in class. We were all told to keep doing our katas and not to stop while our two Sensei’s wandered around the room. Sensei would wander up behind a student and when the turned would move into the fighting position so that when we blocked in a kata we really had to block.

If you have ever had a black cloud follow you around you know my life story then. At a certain point you are suppose to turn and punch. I did exactly as every other student in the dojo did. I turned and punched and decked Sensei Cassandra right in the face and knocked her out. I remember feeling suddenly sick. Sensei Arnold checked her out, and he explained to a room full of kids that while our katas were thought of as exercises they also prepared us to defend ourselves. He went on to state that I had performed the move perfectly and it was Sensei Cassandra’s fault for not doing the block that our kata had required.

When Sensei Cassandra regained consciousness she laughed the whole thing off to the class. As I was sitting by myself feeling horrible she wandered past and paused. “We are moving you up to the adult classes, and next time you are mine to work with,” she told me softly as I noted the black eye that forming.

Needless to say I never went back to class. Amazing what happens to you when you don’t pay attention as a teacher, or God forbid you should accidently follow through on your lessons.