My Counsellor Mocked My Hero Dad, I Brought the Army

Cheryl looked me over and then burst out laughing, “You’re not saying your family died for this junk, are you? That's the definition of a fool!"

With that, she spat her chewed gum onto my father’s medal and shoved it into my hair.

"Here you go! This is your precious first-class merit. Wear it well so everyone can admire it!"

A cruel burst of laughter erupted from the crowd, and my heart sank.

Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn’t help it.

How could I not feel like a fool?

My family—there were four of us, and we were all fools in one way or another.

This medal, the one awarded to my dad while he was still alive, was something I’d asked him for over and over again, but he never gave it to me.

Then, just before his mission, he handed it to me.

'That miser! He promised he’d take it back when he returned. But why didn’t he? Why did he break his promise?'

I trembled as I carefully took the medal from my hair, wrapping it gently in my palm.

I could hardly see through my bloodshot eyes as I lifted my head.

With a rush of anger, I charged at Cheryl, sinking my teeth into her wrist.

“Bitch!”

Right then, she screamed in pain, then elbowed me in the face with everything she had. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, and my vision started to spin.

But I wouldn’t let go.

"Why is everyone making a scene here instead of training?"

Behind me, the department head, Gary Richards, waddled over, thermos in hand, his beer belly swinging with each step.

He looked at Cheryl, then at me, and his face drained of color. "Ms. Carter, apologize to Ms. Cheryl and Nick, right now!"

I stared at him in disbelief. My hair was covered in paper scraps, and blood dripped down my face.

"Why should I apologize? They attacked me first and insulted my family! Why the hell should I apologize, Sir?"

Nick sneered, stepping forward, his voice dripping with arrogance. “By the way, Sir Richard, my dad wanted to know if my stepmom’s happy with the job you got her.”

Mr. Richard’s face instantly changed, and he plastered on a fawning grin. “She’s very satisfied, delighted even! Please thank Robert for me!”

Then, Mr. Richards turned to me, his expression shifting like a page turning in a book, and shouted, "You hit a superior and insulted your classmates. You think you have the right to be angry? Apologize now!" That was it. Everything fell into place. “You’re using your position for personal gain. You don’t deserve to be in charge!” I snapped back, all the anger I’d been holding in flooding out.

“You little brat!”

The director’s face twisted with rage, and he swung his thermos at me.

The impact echoed through the air with a loud bang, and the force of it made my head spin.

Scalding water mixed with glass shards and blood blurred my vision.

My head throbbed, my body dizzy from the shock.

But Mr. Richards didn’t stop. He kept going, his voice dripping with disdain. “What’s Nick’s family background? And what about yours? How dare you cause trouble here? You won’t apologize? Fine! Forget this year’s financial aid, scholarships, and party membership. Let’s see how you survive without any of that!”

He knew I came from a poor family, and he was trying to hit me where it hurt, making it feel like a personal attack meant to break me.

Nick scoffed and waved him off like I wasn’t even worth his time. “Mr. Richards, you’re underestimating her. Emily’s from a ‘martyr’s family’ with a so-called ‘General’ backing her. God, isn’t she something else?”

The department head looked me up and down, clearly amused. “Her? Does she even deserve that title?”

Nick grinned, his eyes narrowing as they landed on my backpack that had fallen to the ground. A malicious gleam flickered in his eyes. “Gary, don’t you know? She’s just a gold-digger. Always daydreaming!”

With malice, he continued, “Come on, let’s see what this ‘martyr’s family’ has hiding in her bag!”

Then, Nick seized my backpack, tore it open, and all my belongings—books, keys, sanitary pads—fell out and scattered across the ground.