The Promise Sealed with Our Lips

When we met for the first time in our first year of high school, he saw my contempt, but silently continued to clean. In our second year, he kneeled in front of me while enduring the ridicule of others, “Can you please beat me up to vent your anger, then forgive me?” From then on he would calmly fulfill our appointments: that horrible wound in physical education class, his guilt when he wore three layers of pants, the bruised and battered body that presented itself before my eyes, then I carried the trembling him... Source: NU