I'll Be Your Pride

Mr. Chapman accused me of assault and Jasmine accused me of defamation. The police needed evidence to do their job, but I had none to defend myself.

On the other hand, Jasmine had a group of classmates backing her up. They claimed I was arrogant and vindictive, saying that when I couldn't win the scholarship, I slandered her for monopolizing it—and even assaulted the dean.

In the end, the incident escalated to the principal. In front of all my classmates, the principal accused me of openly slandering classmates, beating teachers and calling the police to affect the reputation of the university. He deemed my conduct unacceptable and expelled me.

I was at a loss for words, desperate for the police to stand up for me. Unfortunately, even the officers seemed helpless. "Expulsion is the university's decision. We have no authority to interfere."

A policewoman gave me a meaningful glance and whispered, "I heard she's the daughter of a board member and her family has powerful connections. You can't fight someone like that."

So, what about me? Was I supposed to accept being wronged? Did protecting Jasmine mean they had to destroy me?

I felt suffocated, like I was being dragged into despair. Noticing how pale and unsteady I was, the policewoman gently pulled me into her arms. "Come with me, let's get your wounds taken care of. You must be hungry too, right?" I caught a faint scent in her warm embrace that reminded me of my mother.

The policewoman took me to a restaurant and I ordered a bowl of chicken soup. While I ate, she talked on the phone with her daughter. Her face was full of smiles as she promised her child, "Mommy will be home to be with you as soon as I'm done with work, baby. Be good."

Tears mixed with the salty taste of the soup as I swallowed them down. This dish symbolized a family reunion in my town, something my mom hadn't made since I was ten. Because one by one, the people in my family had died.

In my memory, my mother was always crying. The last time I saw her cry was at my brother's funeral. He had lost an arm and his lifeless body was draped in a flag, lying in a coffin. My mother staggered forward and slapped him hard across the face. "We had an agreement! How dare you leave before me?"

The deeper the love, the more intense the grief. My mother had endured too much. She didn't even have time to grieve properly before she left for the frontlines in an epidemic country the next day. When she returned, it was a certificate honoring her as an anti-epidemic hero.

I screamed for my parents in the empty house, but only my echoes answered. All they had left me was that iron box full of military medals. I just wanted to know what use these things were. I couldn't understand …

After finishing my meal, I thanked the officer and returned to campus to pack my things. As I approached the dormitory, I noticed a commotion outside.

While giggling, Jasmine was flinging my belongings into a blaze in the middle of the crowd. "These things are bad luck! Burn them to get rid of the bad vibes!"

When I saw the iron box in the center of the flames, I went berserk and rushed over. As if I felt no pain, I reached into the fire with my bare hands. People stared at me like I was crazy, but I didn't care.

Despite my burning and blistering hands, I could remove the iron box from the fire and clutch it firmly to my chest.

Jasmine and her friends kept laughing. "What's so special about that junk? She acts like it's a treasure!"

"Maybe she could sell it for a few bucks, ha!"

I said nothing; I just hugged the box and walked away. I used my last few bucks at the university gate to hail a cab. The car stopped outside the military district compound, but the driver didn't even take my money before speeding off.

My mother always said those medals were our family's pride and highest honor, but I didn't want honor anymore. Now, could these things bring back my family?

I limped to the compound's gate, opened the iron box, knelt and cried out loud.

"Take these back. Please, just give me back my family."

The guard ran out of the post, puzzled. He gasped when he saw what was in my box. Medals and certificates were neatly stacked together.

Even though he'd served in the military for years, he'd never seen such an astonishing collection of military honors. It was an unimaginable level of glory. Without saying a word, he turned and sprinted inside to report, nearly tripping over himself in his haste.

Soon, a group of men in uniform came hurrying towards me. I vaguely recognized the leading officer from my father's funeral. My father had sacrificed his life to save him.