(BACKSTORY)

(23) YIFAN II

The reform camp was dull and the fluorescent paint chipped off the entryway signs, crumbling down onto the floor and clumping in piles that nobody bothered to clean up. Yifan stood halfway between the entrance and the parking lot, watching the kids file in with tears streaming down their faces as their parents rushed their goodbyes.

He thought they were a pitiful lot. Every single one of them.

Some kids clung long and hard onto the cars or their parents in hope that they’d change their minds and take them back, while other kids purposely left their own worried parents behind, as if they just hated them permanently. The secondhand embarrassment made him grimace as he saw kids his age cry for their mommies and daddies, while he felt bitter towards the younger kids that looked like they’ve given up all hope after entering. He could see the rage and anger with each stomp they took towards the camp, and knew they hated their guardians for pushing them to come here- he was the same afterall.

He was nine years old when he entered the camp and at nine years old, he’s had his own family be broken apart forcibly and consensually on his part, because he broke off contact with his father. His mother was still a touchy subject.

The staff were a weird bunch, permanently smiling every second and every hour of the day. The minute the parents turned their backs though, those fake plastic masks would melt away to reveal their bitter and unwilling personalities to help the kids. Yifan even saw one of the women use the heel of her shoe to kick some of the boys into the bathroom, yelling at them to hurry up because her legs were hurting from standing for too long. Her stupidity appalled him. Their faded green uniform shirts made him want to barf, but nevertheless he followed them quietly while another less vulgar woman told him about the rules, shooting off everything in Chinese to his delight.

The language barrier was a problem and although he greeted all of the other staff with a stiff bow, he honestly had no idea what he was doing. The woman showed him to his cabin and where he’d be sleeping, tugging him along to give him a tour of the ‘beauty of their camp’ before they went to the cafeteria to eat.

“It’ll be hard, but if you don’t try, it will be even harder.” She gave him a pat on the back before returning to the senior leader’s table to mingle with the other staff members, leaving Yifan to grab his own food and eat.

A simple bowl of noodles and an empty table was all that Yifan came into contact that night, until he made it back to his cabin. The other boys he had been rooming with took the liberty of moving his bed all the way to the corner while they connected all of their beds together to make a giant fortress of bed sheets and pillows. They didn’t even ask and he felt a bit hurt to be so left out. Then he remembered what the woman had told him before she had let him go off on his own and he swallowed up his pride, using the best of his ability to push his bunk over to where the other kids one’s were.

“You can’t come here! Go away!”

Yifan couldn’t understand what they were shouting, but took a step back as they began to throw empty packs of snacks and rubbish at him. It didn’t take him that long to put two and two together to see he wasn’t wanted. That night, he lay alone in his bed and tried to ignore the giggles and laughter coming from the far side of the room. He used to laugh like that, with his mother. The memories came back and the bitter taste on his tongue made his eyes burn as a small wet spot began to form on his pillow.

The next morning was brutal. A loud trumpet alerted the boys to wake up before the dawn, having them all change into their exercise uniforms before running ten laps around the field. If a person lagged behind, their entire cabin would be punished. This was considered as a challenge, so if anyone couldn’t do it, they’d be punished as well.

Yifan’s cabin mates all ended up throwing up those late night snacks after ten minutes. He, on the other hand, endured and took it as physical training, trying to make due of the positives so that he wouldn’t completely lost his mind in this hell hole.

After their ‘warm-up’ session, the section leaders forced them all to either choose between basketball or swimming and they’d be forced to compete. Anyone that lost or couldn’t complete the tasks given to them would be subject to spend a night in observation hall, which meant that they were given a four hour video to watch pretty much about how much of a piece of they were, or so Yifan had heard. He made sure that no one in his cabin lagged behind, even if it meant diving into the pool a couple of extra times to lug the drowning ones out or forcing his body to overwork itself to make that few extra points in the basketball game. Even through all of this did his cabin mates dislike him, directing their anger due to lost privileges on the person that was barely keeping them afloat as they sat on their asses and did nothing. Luckily, he didn’t have to play dodgeball or soccer or else they’d really be punished for not being up to par.

The unfairness of the camp’s system infuriated Yifan. Although he hated every single boy in his cabin for always lacking the skills needed in order to perform well during the tests, it was like the adults didn’t have an ounce of common sense in their old brains to see how much pain all of the kids were in. For dodgeball, they paired up the small primary school children with the kids that were nearing their last year of high school. Going to the nurse meant that you would automatically lose your challenge for the day and lots of kids wouldn’t risk going down to the observation hall, toughing it out even though they sprained their ankles and possible fractured their own skulls.

It was an endless cycle of gibberish from other people that went to the camp and from Yifan’s section leaders, not to mention the rules that still, did not make any sense to him. Sometimes people would hide his clothes when he’d go and take a shower, so he’d have to wait until everyone left to run through the dead of night with only a towel to cover him from the cold air outside. Other times, he’d be pushed from his seat in the cafeteria to have the entire table filled with the same bunch of kids. There were many tables open, but they always had to sit at the table he’d want to sit at and sometimes they’d repeat the process two or three times a day- once during breakfast, three times during lunch. If he was lucky, they’d leave him alone during dinner to go and try and get an extra scoop of pudding from the kitchen. The lunch lady was an old bat and tended to doze off when the clock hit 6:30, unaware of the kids pilfering cookies and chips right under her nose.

He was angry and wanted to do something, especially after a couple months of listening and trying to learn the language. Yifan’s natural aptitude helped him pick up another language pretty quick, and he was able to understand everything that went on about him. He’d know about how some of the boys would talk about him, and how the other section leaders were worried about how he never really stuck around with people. The ability helped him survive a little better as time went on, but even he would be a bit embarrassed when one of the staff members would call him ‘cute’ and just a bit shy.

It was just another day at the camp and there were kids running into the cafeteria with their clothes slightly dampened from the rain that poured down on them from the dark weather. The place smelled musty and Yifan had to focus on how stale the bread was before he ended up going light headed from the amount of stink clogging his lungs.

He was just about to take another bite when someone pushed him off his seat again, sending him down onto the tile floor as they took his place on the table.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” One of the boys snickered, ignoring Yifan as he began to talk to his friends that also sat down at the table.

Yifan had his emotions in check after picking up his plate and dumping what was left of his food into the trash, but before he could even step foot out of the cafeteria, he was stopped by those same kids. He was short compared to them and were at least five years older than him, giving them the upper hand when pushing him around.

“Give us your cookie and we won’t give you a swirly like the other kids.” The same boy that pushed Yifan down currently held his palm out and waited for Yifan to obey.

“No.”

The group of boys all laughed and pushed him around a bit more, growing agitated as Yifan stood his ground. He refused every time they pestered him for the cookie and eventually the tallest one had gotten tired, giving Yifan the final push to make him snap.

His fingers curled into a fist and he glared at the boy who made his stay at the boot camp so much tier. “Here’s your ing cookie.”

A small packet of chocolate cookies slapped the boy’s cheek and with it, came Yifan’s fist. He made sure to use enough force to make the boy’s nose bleed and when he was on the ground, he stopped, looking at the rest of the boys.

“Got a problem?”

One of the boy’s friends were pissed, grabbing Yifan by the collar of his shirt and kneeing him in the stomach. It hurt and he almost threw up, but if they weren’t done, he wasn’t done. Yifan tilted his head forward and bit down on the boy’s hand, ignoring the taste of iron on his tongue to smack the kid across his temple so that he’d let him go. Blood dripped down from Yifan’s lips and it wasn’t his own, and everyone in the cafeteria knew it.

“Yifan! Correctional room, now!” A man’s voice bellowed.

He couldn’t hear the man and only snapped out of his rage when someone tackled him to the floor, squirming around to see two of the male staff members pinning him down so that he wouldn’t hit anyone else.

The correctional room was a room with no windows and a single door, painted all black so that when the lights went out, there was nothing to see for whoever was stuck in there for the night. Yifan’s heard about the place, but this was only for the people that really ed up. They threw him in and didn’t give him a second glance before closing the door, leaving him in the darkness for him to repent on his actions.

The only thing that was running through Yifan’s head was the bliss of finally letting go, and nothing else.

--

No matter how many cuts and bruises Yifan had gotten, he didn’t cry. He wasn’t able to, anyways. There was a fine line between being sane and going over the edge, and he crossed it the moment he stepped foot into that camp. After that fight, a bunch of the older kids would always try to test his patience, purposely doing things to piss him off, and it worked. He didn’t care that he’d have to skip dinner or spend another night in the correctional room. Yifan hid a pack of gummy worms behind the door under the mat so that if he ever got hungry, he’d just have to pop those out and he’d be happy. Nobody else visited that room since it eventually was specialized for his use and his use only. He liked it better than his old cabin, anyways.

After a couple more months, Kris had his first growth spurt. He grew four inches in the next year and kept growing after that. His courage and the sudden spotlight had given him a popularity boost, earning him the respect that he had been craving for so long.

“Hey Kris! You gonna help us out or what?”

Yifan, who now went by Kris, peered over the table to see his friends pushing around a few new kids that were just dropped off to the camp. Their giant bags and scared eyes gave it away that they were vulnerable and a smirk broke out on Kris’ lips as he hopped off the table. “So, here’s how it’s gonna go here…”

He leaned over the first boy and laughed at how he began to shake under his gaze. “If you see us doing anything that you think is bad, ignore it. Don’t even think about telling any of the staff or else we’ll make you steal candy for us for a week from the kitchen. And if you didn’t know already, the nice old lady was replaced by the traumatized war veteran from Vietnam, so you’d better hope you don’t tattle on us, you hear?”

The boys all nodded their heads furiously and Kris took a step back to observe them all at once. Out of the nine or ten that were sitting in the line, there was one boy that stood out to him. He sat on the far right and sat w