I Don’t Have A Choice, Do I?

“Not like that, Rachel!” Rachel's karate instructor boomed at her as she lost her balance and fell to the floor. She felt a small pain in her back as she landed square on it, but she jumped right back to her feet. “Sorry, sir,” she bowed, slightly annoyed how her instructor was being so hard on her.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Try it again,” he ordered.

“Could you show me the kick again?” Rachel asked nervously. Her instructor sighed before quickly jumping up in the air and spinning, his legs flying out gracefully in a spin kick. He landed perfectly on his feet, impressively keeping his balance.

“That was too fast, sir,” Rachel said as respectfully as she could. “Do you mind doing it again, but slower?”

“Yes, I mind!” Her instructor snapped, taking an intimidating step forward. “I’m not doing it again. You’re a black belt now! You must learn things rather quickly!”

Rachel nodded, forcing back tears. Her instructor seemed to notice, and his gaze immediately softened. “Was I too hard on you?” He asked. Rachel nodded. “I’m sorry, Rachel,” he said, lowering his head before snapping his gaze back to her. “But you have to learn this kick. Try it again, then you can get water, and I will slowly demonstrate it once more for you when you come back.”

Rachel nodded, and with a sigh she got into her fighting stance, placing her right foot in front of her at ninety degrees and bending her knees. She jumped up and spun in the air, but her legs flailed helplessly as she crashed onto the ground. She yelped slightly as she landed on her back again, and she looked up to see her instructor’s hand offering to help her up. She took his hand, hoisting herself off of the ground. She tightened her belt, brushed her pants off, and ran to get her water. She loved it that he was being generous by allowing her to have water, but she hated how hard he had been on her recently. She quickly took a sip from her water bottle, and ran back to her instructor.

“Alright, let me show you this kick again,” her instructor announced as she came to him. He jumped up in the air, then spun a bit slower, and lifted his leg when he landed on the ground to continue spinning to summon a powerful kick. He looked at Rachel, a satisfied look on his face, as he nodded to her as a signal for her to try. She nodded, taking a deep breath as she got into her fighting stance once again. She jumped up, spinning in the air, and lifting her leg once she landed to jump up again as her mentor had done. She also formed a very strong kick, landing gracefully on her feet. She looked up at her instructor with glee, who had begun clapping. “That was great, Rachel!” He exclaimed. “Do it one last time, so I am sure that you know the kick.”

Rachel did the kick over and over again, until her mentor was more than satisfied. She was weary, out of breath, and sweaty, but he didn’t seem to care. “Posture, Rachel!” He scolded as Rachel slumped over from her exhaustion. She straightened her spine, putting her hands at her side, ignoring her drained energy. She panted, as her mentor decided what he would do next. He looked at his watch. “Oh, it’s six o’clock already! What a shame,” he announced, shaking his head. He looked back up at rachel. “Your training is over for the day. Go outside. Your mother is probably waiting for you.”

Rachel nodded, relieved to be able to get out of the grasp of her instructor. She grabbed her water bottle and ran outside, where she saw her mother’s white chevrolet. She bounded towards it, opening the door and jumping into the car. She shut it behind her, putting on her seatbelt, breathless. Her mother assumed something was wrong. “What’s up with you?” She asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine,” Rachel lied, too out of breath to speak. “Only my mentor being rough on me again.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry!” her mother gasped, placing her hand on Rachel’s head and soothingly stroking her hair. “Could you tell me what happened?”

“I’m too exhausted to speak,” Rachel responded. “I will tell you later.”

Her mother nodded before putting her foot on the gas pedal. The ride to Rachel’s home felt long for her. She looked out the window and watched cows graze in the fields. She saw a small calf stumbling towards its mother, and she laughed. She thought to herself about her mentor, how he was so fun and cooperative before, and now he just feels… distant. Far away. Ignorant.

She shrugged. I wish I had the old him, she thought. Or maybe even a different mentor. Don’t get me wrong; I still love my mentor, but I hate him at the same time. Either way, I don’t have a choice, do I?

As her home came into sight, she daydreamed of laying down in her bed, curling up into a ball, and falling asleep. As her mother parked the car, she darted into the house, running into her room. And there, she did exactly as she daydreamed of.

She had dreams of her mentor scolding her over and over again, but also being kind to her. I don’t get it! She thought, frustrated. This is too much for me, just a thirteen-year-old girl. Does he like me as a student or not? Do I like him as a mentor or not?

She awoke to these thoughts, fuming with rage. She went out to the garage, and walked over to her punching bag. She struck it many times, getting her anger out. She did the kick she had learned earlier that day a few times, realizing she had perfected it. Then, it all came together.

He’s strict so I perfect my technique. He only wants the best from me, so no, I don’t have a choice.