Status: Edit: 2017 guysss I'm back. (Formerly called 'Colour of Hate')

The Disease Called Men

Lesson 2

Complaining will only get you so far in life!



Cerise’s instant winning against bald father tips:

1. Reverse psychology works – only if you do it right!

2. If father does NOT like the idea of their child getting a significant other – use it against them.

3. Don’t let them know what you are really thinking/planning/scheming
.
4. If all else fails – cry and do the Perfect daughter act (last resort only)
.

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I hated my life. The rumour was true. My heavenly sanctuary, my beloved place of peace, of Zen, was being ruined! The presence, no, the invasion of the so-called ‘Brookfield boys’ unleashing havoc upon my place of peace was like watching my beloved being viciously torn to shreds like confetti and blown onto my distraught face. Heart-wrenching. Was this necessary? I couldn’t find the exact dates on the bald man’s paper, but I knew the execution day was soon. Why must they come here?

On Tuesdays, we have Art first period. Being the first period and before his mid-morning coffee, Mr Reynolds always instructs us to do simple exercises on Tuesdays. As Mr Reynolds refilled the coffee machine, he mumbled something about us expressing our raw feelings through painting.

“That should be good enough,” Mr Reynolds grumbled, hunched before the machine, motionless and holding his cat printed mug upside down.

As the familiar earthy aroma wafted through the art room, I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled. My raw feelings? I opened my eyes and rummaged through my tubes of paints. I decided to use the dark hues – the dark blues, the dark purples and the dark greens to emphasise my rather ‘dark feelings’. I hated the fact that my school – my heavenly sanctuary – was turning into a ‘co-educational institution’.

Feeling my concentration waning, I placed my paintbrush down and examined my painting. I hadn’t put in much, if any, effort into my painting. I was kind of hoping for the modern, abstract look with the dark colours dancing all over my canvas, like how my dark feelings where all over the place, as if I was in a negative mood but keeping my optimistic, bright outlook on life (not really, but it sounded like a good ‘artistic’ excuse, I mean explanation for my lack of effort in case Mr Reynolds called me out in class). Oh, my gosh. With all this emotion, it was like I was twelve again. The only thing I needed more was to write a heartfelt poem about my emotional distress.

But no.

Instead, my work turned into a hideous, uncoordinated blob from all the colours mixing together and from my paintbrush aimlessly wandering around my canvas. I frowned at the abomination. What the hell is this shit?

“Feeling a bit ‘beige’, eh, Cerise?”

Now when Mr Reynolds says ’beige’, he does not mean the colour. He has his own meaning.

 I huffed in response. He saw through my pitiful attempt.

Example:
She had a beige sense of style because she only believed fashion was to be defined by those glossy, overpriced magazines.



That
 is beige.



My favourite colour is beige. It is a shade.


That is not beige (by Mr Reynolds definition, anyway).


I glanced at Mr Reynolds. Today, he was sporting a collared shirt with a fitting vest and although he had that unkempt five o’clock after-shadow, he seemed less zombie like after his coffee. He was one of those fashionable and trendy fresh-out-of-college teachers where half the girls crushed on him and the other half debated on his sexuality.

“No,” I replied, not bothering to paint over my first feeble attempt. “It’s because nothing is going the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Supposed to be?” Shaking his head, Mr Reynolds chuckled as he sat next to me. “Nothing in this world is certain.”

“But death.”

Mr Reynolds continued, unheeding to my interruption. “Besides, spontaneous things can be beautiful, no?”

I frowned. Spontaneous? What was spontaneous? Spontaneous was not a good thing! I really didn’t think of my work being ‘spontaneous’, but rather a horrendous mistake. As with the fate of my heavenly sanctuary. How could someone spontaneously decide to combine a prestigious school with a notorious all boy’s school like BBC and think that was a beautiful idea?

Mr Reynolds patted me on the shoulder. “Beige is when you’re not trying. Beige is when you’re giving up too soon, not when you’re trying your hardest and nothing is going the way you want it to be.”

I watched him as he stood up. “But my painting…”

He smiled as he handed me another blank canvas. “Cerise, spontaneity is not beige. Practice is not beige. Trying again is never beige.”

From that, a beautiful idea was born.

Image

“I officially hate my life!” I cried as I flung the doors open, plummeting onto the Persian carpet inside the principal’s office.

Now, the principal’s office wasn’t like those pristine, business-looking offices like St. Hilda’s or other private schools. No, the principal’s office was, quite frankly, terrible. The surrounding walls were painted a heavily debated shade of ‘light red’, covered with many photos, past idols and rock band posters. Instead of an ivory plaque with the title ‘Head Master’ or ‘Principal’ placed on the mahogany desk, the bald principal had a stuffed rabbit named ‘Milo’. I squirmed uncomfortably as I could feel one of his plush-toy’s beady little eyes bore into my soul. As if his baldness didn’t disgust me already.

“What’s the matter, Cerise?” The bald principal asked as he continued signing papers. “Are you tired of being a melodramatic, angst-ridden teen?”

The bald man had the nerve to giggle at his little ‘joke’. No, not chuckle – giggle. I took a deep breath in. No, I must not retort, I must reason. Watching this grown man giggle, I had to swallow that feeling of repulsion.

“No. I’m upset over the fact that this school is becoming co-ed! What’s wrong with the way things are now? Why do we need to change things? And why are we informed so late? Can’t we stop this?”

The old man giggles stifled. He looked up, peering over his thick framed glasses. “Most student’s here would wish for co-ed, though.”

I stared at the bald man in disbelief. Did I hear correctly? Did I hear my father right? Throughout my life, I’ve only attended Aldenbury, my bald father vehemently denied all of my heartfelt requests to go to St. Hilda’s or worse, a public co-ed school. Why the change now? What makes BBC any better? Sarah said they’re known for their public fights with neighbouring schools.

“The students come from a respectable background,” my bald father continued, “you might get to know a few and make some friends. It wouldn’t hurt to expand your horizons, meeting more people and making more friends.”

Hmph. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“Isn’t daddy always?”

“They’re good, respectable but probably perverted as hell. Hey, maybe I might get to know a few…friends. It is Brookfield Boys College.” I turned to leave the office.

Brookfield Boys College.

Boys.

I paused, allowing the word to slowly permeate inside my bald father’s head. This may take a while.

The pen dropped to the floor, and the bald man immediately turned to me. “W-wait a minute!”

Victory was mine. Cerise: 1, bald man: 0. “Yes, daddy?”

The bald man abruptly stood up, pushing forward the mahogany desk a few inches forward, not noticing Milo had fallen down to his demise. “N-n-now hold on. Wait, wait, wait a minute… We need to carefully consider this.” The bald man began to pace around the room. He was rubbing his bald head, as if trying to rid of any ridiculous scenarios playing in his head.

I smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.” There, that should do it. Now the bald man should slowly reconsider everything. Another school board meeting should be organised shortly. Then, admin would realise their mistake.

“Oh yes, daddy?” I stopped at the door entrance. Like a farmer in spring season, watching a new mother cow, I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Perhaps I could really milk this.

My father looked at me, his despondent eyes searching mine. What other bad news must I bear?

“I think it’d be a great idea if I started to board at the girl’s dormitory.”

The bald man continued to stare at me, his eyebrows creating deeper creases. I could see him hesitate, his decision wavering. Damn, I had to bring this a couple of notches up.

“Dad, daddy, papa! You do trust me, don’t you? Don’t you think your loving, responsible daughter could use this experience to learn, grow and mature to a dependable and sensible adult?”

“C-cerise…”

Shit. “But daddy… don’t you love me?” I sniffed. “Is your love for me merely words? What about your actions?”

“O-of course I do love you…” The poor bald man exhaled. “But…”

Drooping my shoulders, I heaved a deep sigh and looked away, placing a hand over my heart. “Never mind. I see how it is. I hear you say you love me, but I fail to feel it…”

“Cerise, I…” The bald man ran towards me, placing some random keys into my hands. “Cerise, of course I love you! You’re my youngest and only daughter! Here, take them!”

“Daddy!” I pretended to wipe a tear from my eyes. “Thank you so much! I love you!” I hugged my bald father tight.

From an outsider’s perspective, it would have looked like a heart wrenching scene of a father and daughter reunion, but in my mind, I was thinking ahead. Resting my face onto my fathers shoulder, I hid my growing smile. Oh, with all the possibilities and freedom I had now that I had access to the dorms? This was perfect. Cerise: 2, bald man: 0.

Mission one, accomplished.

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“I got it!” I cheered as I pumped my fist into the air. I ran to the school garden where Lee-Min and Julia were waiting. The school garden was our usual hang out place after school.

“After so many years of blood, sweat and tears,” I began as I approached Lee-Min and Julia. “I finally managed to get into the dorms.”

“Wait,” Lee-Min interrupted, “what’s the point of you getting into the dormitory? You live close enough already.”

Sighing exasperatedly, I slowly shook my head at Lee-Min. “For so long I wanted to live in a dorm – and now I have it! That, and now I can properly focus on getting rid of those annoying little shits without the interruption of my brothers! It’s a win-win situation. Oh, and I managed to arrange a meeting to stop those terrible boys.” I made a face at the word ‘boys’.

“What about boys?”

I yelped and spun around. “S-Sarah! I didn’t see you!”

“What about boys?” Sarah pressed on, nudging me and wriggling her eyebrows.

“I…” I hesitated. Out of the four of us, Sarah was the only one looking forward to the arrival of boys. The pestilence in the flesh. Mainly because her birthday was coming up, I didn’t want to disappoint her so soon. I didn’t want to tell her. Not yet.

“She managed to get a dorm.” Lee-Min answered.

Sarah stared at Lee-Min. Lee-Min looked bored as she plucked a leaf from a plant and began to tear it to shreds. “She managed to be dorm buddies with me.”

Really, what would I do without Lee-Min! “That means I won’t have to see my annoying brothers anymore!” I clenched both fists in the air once more as I sat next to Julia.

Sarah nodded understandingly and sat down as well. She knew – heck, everyone knew what my brothers were like.



“So I was thinking for the upcoming school fete,” Julia began. All three of us shifted closer to Julia, leaning forward in anticipation. She always had the best ideas. “We meet up separately.”



“What?!” Sarah groaned, tilting her head back in disappointment. “What’s the point of that? You know how packed it can be in fetes.”



Lee-Min and I glanced at Julia. Julia winked at us.



“I think that’s a great idea.” Lee-Min piped up. I looked at Julia and Sarah, confused. Where were they going with this? “I mean, we can be in pairs – Sarah and I and Cerise with Julia, or vice versa or whatever.”



Julia smiled and nodded, tucking her thick dark curls behind an ear. “Yeah. Like, the first pair to find the other wins. It’ll be like a big game of hide and seek.”



Sarah’s blue eyes glistened at the thought. We all knew that Sarah loved these types of games. I tilted my head, “But…”



“The team who wins will win a prize.” Julia gave me a meaningful look and glanced at Sarah.



OH! “I get it now!” I looked at Julia and Lee-Min unsure. The party will be held at the School Fete? We’ll play hide and seek, where we’ll let Sarah win and she’ll find us and her surprise party?



“Correct.” Lee-Min looked at me and nodded. She understood me. How best friends can read each other’s minds still astounds me.



I grinned. “This is going to be the best year!”



Lee-Min chuckled. “The year just started.”



Julia smiled, her arm wrapped around my shoulder. “But you can tell already, right Cerise?”



Sarah hugged us all. “I can’t wait!”



We all laughed as Sarah began to ‘accidentally’ choke Julia with her hug. Watching this, I knew I had to protect my school from those horrible Brookfield Boys. I will not allow those boys to destroy this. I’ll even go as far to ensure that those boys won’t even take a step into this school. Not ever.



I wasn’t going to be beige.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thank-you for reading.