A Challenge Regret. We were poor. As poor as church mice. Things did not get any better when Father did not get any better when Father passed away. Ever since Father’s untimely demise, Mother had to work long hours every day just to make ends meet. At school, I was always teased about being poor, especially by the notorious school bully, James. A roguish smirk would always be plastered on the bully’s face as he extracted his wrath on me. One day, however, I did not expect the situation to get out of hand. Brilliant rays of sunshine streamed in between the leaves of an Angsana tree as I settled down under it. It was recess and I had already wolfed down the last of my food. I made my way in the direction of the Angsana tree, a routine with me, with a book in hand to read. To oth...
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