If I Hadn't Laughed, I Would Have Cried

I broke out, hurling a flurry of precise, mastered and skilful kicks. Each kick grew in supremacy, as I glared at my opponent’s face: grief stricken and glazed with unmistakable distress. Each kick neared her towards tasting the bitterness of a palpable defeat. Rhapsody enticed my face as I smirked mercilessly.

I emerged from under the bedclothes and encountered the mottled morning light. Today was the day my dreams would become reality.

I had always harboured a competitive streak but I was not always good at actually realising it. This was to be my first Taekwondo competition and the desire to win was overwhelming.

I affectionately selected my loose white uniform that hung alongside my green school dress. Each Sunday morning for the past twelve months I had religiously swapped the academic rigidity of school for the physical rigidity of Taekwondo and noticed that even now, the whiteness of my uniform was a little dulled and the threads slightly frayed, revealing the chronic blows that it had suffered. Two badges were sewn onto the front by unorthodox and jagged black threads, visibly overlapping the stark whiteness of my uniform. Each badge bore the fist of a martial artist and was

“Hiya” the little girl charged past hitting the air with purposeful kicks. In her exuberance she lunged ahead coming down in my still painful ankles. I grimaced but managed a smile. “Sorry” she offered as she rode away, her little red belt reflecting in the sunlight. If I hadn’t laughed I would have cried.

Through the wooden doors, the musty smell of the disused Church wafted through the air. The windows were washed in a coloured sequence of stained glass that created a spectrum of continuous colours, which fell onto the dusty auburn floors, generating a warm and calming glow. As if in defiance of the ambiance of peace and serenity, the black belts, in their refined supremacy, practised their dazzling selection of flying kicks, landing promptly on their feet with a classy thump as they hit the floor.

“Hiya”. After dismounting from her bicycle, she kicked her plump little legs into the air and continued to assault her invisible opponent as she moved awkwardly down the pavement. Stopping almost as unpredictably as she had started, her face appeared to be glowing with arrogant satisfaction. Her intense blue eyes compellingly pierced my own and her petite red lips contrasted with her round, pallid face and formed a gruesome smirk, as if questioning my authority. Although her kicks had caused no physical harm this untrained minor had caused me an internal blow. Clearly oblivious to the fact that I was a trained Taekwondo student (although only a yellow belt), she had confronted my seniority and damaged my self-esteem. However, with supreme self-control I managed to smile and walk ahead, concealing my morose face and asking myself why her idiocy could not have been rewarded with a sidekick to the face.

Some topics in this essay:
, Church Gods, blue eyes, whiteness uniform, yellow belt, intense blue eyes, intense blue, chest guard, blue belt, belt reflecting, managed smile, fighting stance,