Chapter8
1279 Words
The next day, during morning reading, Charles read the text aloud.
Archer unfolded his paper and quietly began writing a self-critique.
Yesterday was satisfying; however, wrongdoing deserves punishment.
Sure enough, before the class ended, the counselor, Mr. Tommy, arrived.
"Archer, please come to the office with me." The office was very quiet, with just two or three lecturer preparing lessons.
Mr. Tommy unscrewed the lip of his cup and took a sip of tea.
Before he could speak, Archer took the initiative to present his self-criticism.
A full thousand words, freshly written with ink still wet.
Quoted in full and eloquently written.
“Archer, do you know what you are doing? Where did you go yesterday afternoon?” Mr Tommy slammed his fist on the table.
“I apologize, Mr Tommy, I know I was wrong.” Archer candidly acknowledged his mistake.
“You are the best student in the entire grade, and now you have done something truly outrageous. As your counselor teacher, I feel deeply heartbroken.”
“What you did was not only irresponsible toward yourself, but also to your parents and teachers, setting a very poor example for your classmates.”
"Do not think you can avoid responsibilities by writing a self-criticism. I don't believe you have fully recognized the seriousness of your mistake."
Mr. Tommy, spitting as he spoke, launched into a tirade against Archer.
His love was profound, and his criticism was severe.
He did not want his top student to lose their way.
Although Archer was being reprimanded, he felt a sense of satisfaction. He could distinctly sense his teacher's concern and care.
Regrettable, he may never be able to repay this kindness.
Finally, when Mr. Tommy finished speaking and began drinking tea, Archer had the opportunity to speak.
Since he could not confide in his parents about the matter at that time, his counselor was the best person to talk to.
At that moment, the other teachers also left.
Only the teacher and the student remained in the office.
“Mr. Tommy, I took sick leave the day before yesterday, and you even approved the leave slip,” Archer said, his eyes reddening.
Mr. Tommy's furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”
“Mr. Tommy, you are my most respected teacher. I don’t want to keep anything from you, but I am very ill.” Archer’s lower lip quivered uncontrollably.
“What do you mean by that?” Mr. Tommy realized that something was wrong.
Archer composed himself, then took a medical report from his pocket, unfolded it, and placed it in front of Mr. Tommy.
Mr. Tommy glanced at it briefly, his expression changing dramatically.
It was like a bolt from the blue, suddenly exploding in his ears.
“This is impossible, these must be a misdiagnosis. Archer, don't worry, your teacher will take you for a second checkup. It must be a mistake.”
Archer shook his head and said, “Mr. Tommy, it is not a misdiagnosis. I've been experiencing nosebleeds for six month.”
“How could this happen? You're only eighteen!” Mr Tommy found it difficult to accept.
Although everyone must face death, it should be a very distant concern for this young man before hint.
He still had a bright future ahead of him, with many experiences yet to come.
“Mr. Tommy, I do not wish to be pitied or shown sympathy. I just want to live my remaining days as I choose,” Archer pleaded.
“What did your parents say? Will they still allow you to attend school?” Mr Tommy asked sorrowfully.
"I want to be with my teachers and classmates." Archer felt closer to his teachers and classmates than to his parents.
He did not explicitly tell them that he had only three months left to live.
He dared not tell his counselor and kept such a serious matter secret from his family.
As Archer’s counselor, Mr. Tommy was aware that his family situation was somewhat complicated.
He could not comprehend how such a troubled family could raise such an outstanding child.
Even when confronted with life and death, he remained remarkably calm.
Archer bowed deeply to Mr. Tommy and said, "Mr. Tommy, I admit I was wrong about yesterday, and I promise I will never do it again."
Mr. Tommy's nose tingled as he said, "It's alright; I don't blame you. If you do not wish to attend class, you may come and request permission for leave."
He could understand that Archer, having grown up in that environment, must have suppressed many negative emotions.
At the brink of death, it was only natural to want to let them go.
As the counselor, he had not shown sufficient care for his student.
If Archer's condition had been diagnosed earlier, and he had received appropriate treatment, would there have been a chance for recovery?
"Mr. Tommy, I no longer wish to be class monitor anymore. Please select a different student!"
"Okay, try not to put any pressure on yourself. Follow the doctor's prescribed treatment. Don't give up until the very last moment." Mr. Tommy could offer a few words of comfort, but even he did not truly believe them.
Archer picked up the diagnosis report from the table, folded it once more, and placed it in his pocket.
His movements were slow, as though he were performing a ritual.
"Archer, please continue attending classes as usual for the time being. If you experience any discomfort, please inform me immediately." Mr. Tommy's feelings were quite complex.
He understood Archer; as the top student in the entire grade, he was determined to complete his studies without any regrets in his youth.
However, his duty as a teacher also led him to profound self-reproach and anxiety.
"Thank you, Mr. Tommy. I may have to let you down," Archer said, tears welling in his eyes as he bowed once more to Mr. Tommy.
“No, you have always been my most proud student,” Mr. Tommy said, his voice thick with emotion.
Archer was an exceptional student who consistently brought honor to both the class and the school.
He will undoubtedly be an exceptional talent in the future, achieving remarkable success.
What a pity that such a brilliant mind was lost too short.
Suppressing his grief, Archer recalled something and asked Mr. Tommy for confirmation, “Mr. Tommy, there are only 22 classes in our grade, right?”
Mr. Tommy asked doubtfully, “Of course, why do you ask?”
“I met a girl yesterday who said she was in class 23.”
“Don’t overthink it; just return to class!”
Mr. Tommy assumed that Archer had suffered a serious injury, which explained the unusual question, and he tried to remain calm to prevent a somber atmosphere.
He endeavored to view Archer as ordinary.
As Archer himself had requested, the greatest respect one could show him was neither pitying nor sympathizing with him.
Archer bowed deeply to Mr. Tommy, then left the classroom office with heavy steps.
Mr. Tommy watched him walk away, his pent-up emotions finally breaking free.
He struck the desk forcefully with his right fist.
The man in his forties had red, swollen eye from crying.
Even the best student in the class, any eighteen-year-old boy would be moved to tears by such unfair treatment from fate.
After leaving, Archer did not return directly to Class 9 but instead climbed the stairs.
He went up to the fifth floor and confirming with his own eyes that Class 22 was at the end.
Apart from that, there were only empty classrooms.
Jocelyn, who are you?
Where are you from?
- Writer
