Read Violet Path for Free Online Page B

ever given an opportunity to attack.
    “Come on, Alexia! You can’t win if you only defend! Get your act together and strike back! You’re acting like this is your first time in the ring. Do something! Anything would be better than this!” the instructor yelled.
    I took a few blows to the abdomen, then I started to put in more effort.
    “When she goes for your head, step in, meet her entry with a front jab followed by a reverse uppercut. And if she blocks, be ready to send a hook off your front hand. These are only suggestions, Alexia. You should know how to take care of yourself. I shouldn’t have to help you out,” the instructor spat.
    I struck Torin’s shoulder, took out her knee with a quick kick, then kneed her in the abdomen. She fell to her knees, and I backed away. I waited for her to get back up.
    “If this were on the battlegrounds, you wouldn’t have survived, Alexia. You don’t wait and watch your opponent’s reaction or admire what you’ve done! You finish what you’ve started! Next time, you end when she doesn’t wake up, got it?” the instructor shouted. Then he stormed over to me and grabbed my arm. “What’s the problem? Are you afraid of hurting someone? You better get used to it. Besides, we have the medical center down the hallway, so stop being a wimp and take control of the fights!” He glared at me. “Do you understand?”
    “Yes, sir,” I answered timidly as I looked away.
    By the end of the class, I knew enough to win a couple of short and quick one-on-one battles. I took many hits at first, unwilling to hurt anyone, but after receiving bruises and enough punishments from my teacher, I started to feel my muscles work. Sweat was natural, and everyone smelled. I wanted to shower, but I didn’t have the time.
    H.S.H.S. was weirder than I had thought. The classes were all about war. I learned about the human body and how the army controlled the mentally impaired foot soldiers through specific phrases and actions. As far as I could tell, I was the only student without C.I. Pill damage and could think for myself, while others simply followed protocol. I also learned how to treat all injuries as a form of precaution. I had to learn about other communities and their armies so we could conquer them.
    In Strategy Class, one student answered most of the questions and received the instructor’s praise. His name was Zachary, and for whatever reason, he always picked on me.
    “Do I have permission to demonstrate the simple strategies with Alexia, sir?” Zachary asked in a sly voice.
    “Granted.” The teacher stepped back to give us some space in the center of the room.
    Zachary latched onto my arm and pulled me out of my seat. He then led me to the center of the room. He turned to face me, but before I could react he punched my jaw, then punched me in the abdomen. My arms lowered to protect where he had just hit me.
    “Hit high to force your opponent to protect everything high, then hit low,” Zachary explained with a thin, long smile.
    “Very simple, yet very effective,” the instructor added.
    Zachary was in all of my classes and would not leave me alone. He was a few years older than I with light, brown hair and green eyes. He wasn’t the typical bully, who might pull my hair and tease me whenever the teacher had his back turned. Instead, Zachary liked to ask for permission to challenge me, often physically. And to my surprise, permission was always granted. In Battle Class, Zachary was the one who showed the least mercy for new students, especially me. He would kick me and punch me even if we weren’t supposed to be fighting. And he would always turn to his friends afterward to remind them of how defenseless I was. He had kicked me in the face a couple of times, giving me a bloody nose and cutting my lip. I also had a few bruised ribs by the end of the day. Zachary had pushed me down the stairs as we were walking to our next class, and he dug his heel into my hand. His insults