“So, how did you do on the test,” I asked as we walked to the next css.

  “Pretty good. All of the questions were easier than the ones you gave me to practice on.”

  Our st css was a self-study css. Sitting down at a table, I handed her my notebook. “That’s good. Can you go over my story and edit it?”

  Taking it, she said, “Sure. You want to edit mine?”

  “Only if you want me to.” Passing me her notebook, I pulled out a red pencil and started to read over her work. Adding and removing various words while making notes and comments for her to go over. I was only halfway through when the final bell rang.

  As we traded our notebooks back, she said, “See you this weekend?”

  I shook my head. “Not likely. My parents want me to go through a stupid training thing that they say will take all weekend. “ The look on her face told me what she thought of that. She didn’t like the amount of training they put me through, saying something about it not being needed anymore or something.

  As we parted ways, our houses on opposite ends of the town, she waved before jogging down the road. I watched her go. Waiting for her to get out of sight before turning and taking off at a brisk pace. Slowly speeding up as I wove through the clumps of other students as they walked home. Finally increasing to a full sprint as I broke through the st group.

  My breath fogged out in front of me as the crisp air burned my lips and cheeks. Muscles warming my body as the wind kept trying to steal it. I only slowed down as I crossed the st street at the edge of town. Heading into the forest that surrounded my house.

  A soft whooshing sound was the only warning I had as a wooden sword cut across the path. It nearly got me. Only missing as I ducked and twisted as my feet skid across the dirt path. An exposed root caught one of my feet. Instead of falling on my face as I had so many times before, I managed to use it to return upright and face my attacker.

  “Better.” Came my dad’s voice. “But you really should have attacked when you had the chance. No person out there will wait for you to do so.”

  Suddenly feeling a sharp pain where my neck met my shoulder as another wooden sword took a swipe at me. Crying out, I turned to look at my attacker. Standing there, sword outstretched, was my mother. A frown crossed her face.

  “What the hell are you both doing?” I cried as I rubbed at the spot. It would be interesting to expin yet another bruise to the school administration on Monday.

  “We told you that you would be training all weekend.” My mother said as if it was obvious, her head tilting a little as she took me in. “Your weekend starts after school ends on Friday.”

  I didn’t care what my parents said. This couldn’t be normal. None of my friends ever came to school with stories about their weekend that remotely compared to this torture. Shaking my head, I walked around her and moved the hundred or so feet it took to get into the house.

  “Get dressed in a workout outfit and come back outside.” She ordered.

  My room and bathroom took up half of the third floor. As I walked up the st of the stairs, I looked over at the only other room on the floor. The one room in the house I was never allowed to enter. In fact, I had never seen anyone ever enter the room.

  Shaking my head, I turned and entered my room. Dropping my bag on the desk before quickly changing into one of the workout sets that I had. Grabbing the wooden sword and knife that sat on a rack next to the door as I walked out. Quickly heading back outside where my parents were sparring.

  Not that they were going seriously. If they had, then the swords would have broken after the first or second hit. They kept at it for a few minutes until finally breaking apart. My mom frowned as they did so. “How did you pull off that move?”

  “You mean the one that swiped across your back?” At her nod, he gnced at me before cryptically saying, “I will tell you ter.”

  They were both silent for a few seconds before she turned to me, “Today, you will be going against me.” Lifting up her sword, she gave me one warning before charging me. “Get ready.”

  My sword barely made it up in time to deflect her strike as I moved to the side. There was no way I would ever match either of them for speed, skill, or strength. In fact, it was all I could do to survive for any length of time, even with them holding back as much as they did.

  “We have been training you for years, and this is all you have to show for it.” She called. “Pathetic. Your father was better than this with half the training.” I know. She said odd things like that from time to time. Acting as if she was older than her thirty-nine years.

  “Then why don’t you go back and train with him,” I grunted out as I took one of her attacks against my sword. Catching her bde upon my guard in an attempt to get it out of her hands. Twisting my sword, hers was pulled toward me. Instead of letting it go or trying to pull it back, she moved with me. Using the momentum to move in for an attack.

  One, two, three different strikes hit me at various parts of my body. If her sword had been real, then any of the strikes would have killed me. As it was, they all hurt. Colpsing to the ground, I panted as I tried to catch my breath. “Better but still cking.” Came my father's voice.

  “If I can hit either of you, can I go to the Kali tournament this weekend?” I got out through my panting.

  “No.” Was my mother's instant response.

  My dad wasn’t quite so dismissive. “You know how your mother and I feel about tournaments.” I shook my head that I did as he continued, “Plus, what would be in it for us if we won?”

  Tentatively, I said, “I won’t compin all weekend?”

  “While that would be nice, how about you don’t see your friends for a week.” My head practically vibrated back and forth as I disagreed with his proposition. Knowing my parents, they would take me on with more than their normal training speed and then say I needed more training. Probably even saying that going to school was a part of the agreement. I could see my friends there after all.

  “I am liking this more and more.” My mother said as she brought her sword around. Preparing to strike at one of my legs as I y on the ground. Seeing this, I rolled to my left. Rolling up the roots of a nearby tree until its trunk stopped me. I used it to block her follow-up strike as I quickly moved into a crouch behind it.

  “No, no. I am good with training all weekend. Sorry I brought up the idea.”

  They didn’t care to listen to me though. Instead, they kept coming at me as a pair. Working me around the property. I used the trees and branches to block anything and everything I could. Still, I had a hard time dodging everything else. Unfortunately, they left me no option but to enter a clearing as they blocked my path back. Slowly moving forward to force me to make a decision.

  To make a stand or to run. Backing up a bit, I moved my sword into my right hand. I would lose some capability with the sword because it was built to be held in two. Taking a single swing and twirl, I tried to get used to the new center of weight and leverage point.

  My other hand reached behind me. Grabbing the handle of the knife and moving it to a reverse grip. All the while, watching as my parents made their way out of the trees and joining me in the clearing. Both giving me time to get ready. All at once, they both rushed forward.

  Directly in front of me, swinging from above, my mom aimed for my shoulder again. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was aiming for the spot she had hit earlier. To my right, my dad was charging in with an upward-sweeping strike. Making a decision, I stepped slightly to my left and forward.

  My mother's sword would miss my arm with fractions of an inch to spare. On the other hand, my father was now overextended in his attack. His strike hit my arm hard enough that my hand went numb. The knife in my hand struck out at my mother, directly for her heart.

  Not that she didn’t try to back up, but I just kept stepping with her. Speeding up only to get suddenly hit from behind. Vision darkening as the head strike caused my ears to ring.

  “So, guess you lost the wager.” Was one of the st things I heard as I bcked out for a few minutes. Coming to, I opened my eyes to see my parents leaning over me. Both rapidly standing up now that I was no longer out cold. Yet another oddity about the family that my parents wouldn't admit to. Every time I asked about how fast I seemed to recover from some injuries, they just said I was hardheaded or something.

  Not that all my injuries healed that fast, just some of the worst that they had inflicted on me while training. Slowly, I sat up, looking at their retreating backs as I said. “I never agreed to the wager.”

  “Too bad. After dinner, we will start your training. And, as you seem so keep on reneging on your side, you will stay home for the entire week training with me.” My mother said. Confirming my suspicion on her goal.

  “No, I will not be skipping school.” I decred as I got to my feet.

  She made her disagreement with my statement clear by how fast she whirled around. Pointing her finger at me as she said, “Yes, you will, even if I have to hog-tie you when you are not training.”

  “No, you will not. Do you realize how you sound right now?”

  “And how is that? Do you think I don’t know what is best for you?” Her voice starting to rise in obvious anger and annoyance.

  “No, I don’t.” My voice got louder as I stood my ground. Finally fed up with their stupid training and limits. “Where in this modern world do I need to know how to use a damn sword? Nowhere. There is no use for any of this training. Just knowing Kali is enough self-defense for everyone in my academy. The rest either practice another martial art, use a modern weapon, or don’t care.” Before she could get in a word, I continued. “Do you even know what other kids think of me? Their parents? My teachers? They think I search for people to fight. That I am too dangerous to be around. That is why I have only two friends. The rest are just too afraid of me or what I might do.”

  I was screaming at her by the end. Instead of waiting for her to respond, I turned and ran. Not really caring where I went; just needing to get away.