You stand on the edge of a knife. It is the coward's path to retreat, the fool's to progress. You know, however, that you must step either forward, or back.
When you stand on the edge of a knife, to fall off the side may hurt, but to stand, undecided, will kill.
An adage runs through your mind. Curiosity killed the cat.
You look back – indoors – back into the house you have lived in for the ten years of your life and finish the saying as it is meant to be finished.
And boredom drove it to suicide. You step forward.
Nothing accosts you instantly. Adrenaline speeds time in your perceptions, and your heart rate matches the skip. At ten years of age, it is time to move into Hell.
You walk across the street, trying to hide your fear. If you show it, you know that they will flock to you like sharks to an open wound. You look around furtively at the busy street, and dart through traffic to reach the Gate.
You read the sign hanging from the imposing entrance. It says "The Joyful Girls' Learning Center" in a sort of faded black color. Below the sign are some sloppy letters, written in what you hope is red spray paint. Squinting, you move forwards, trying to decipher the small lettering, seemingly penned by a student in haste or fear.
And then you see it. A subtext, like that on an advertisement.
The Joyful Girls' Learning Center
"Where bullies find victims."