It happened in a flash... so fast that it was not physically possible for any human being in my shoe to be able to handle the event in an adequate manner. The orange blur of a ball flew out of the hand of a tall but skinny boy into the face of a fat boy who wore a pair of spectacle.
The spectacle fell to the ground, and blood began to flow rapidly out of the nose of the fat boy. This happened in but a spit of a second.
"Why did you hit me?" The fat boy shouted at the skinny boy as he dashed madly towards the skinny boy with his fist held high, poised to deliver a punch that was sure to hurt the skinny boy before him.
"I hated people who insulted my mum," the skinny boy yelled back, as he got himself into a defensive position, to ward off the attack of the angry boy he had hit the face with a basketball.
"Stop it, stop it, you two!" I shouted, as I ran toward the boy, when I finally gathered myself together. My cries were like arrows that I shot towards the boys, that fell to the ground, without reaching into their ears. The children, or monsters, for that that was what they sometimes seemed to me, were fighting. They were much younger than me, but so violent that I was afraid of them deep inside my heart, but I never let it showed.
The boys stopped, each looking accusingly at the other party, 100 confident that it was the other person's fault that the fight even began in the first place. I looked at the blood that flowed out of the nose of the fat boy.
Oh no, this looked serious, I thought to myself. What will happen to my grade? I needed that A so badly. Lord Jesus, help me.
"What is happening here?" the supervisor of the centre rushed onto the scene, much like the saviour that was coming to save the show. It did not matter that I had already asked the children about the whole account of their fight. It did not matter that I had in mind what was the way to discipline or punish the children. It did not matter what I said, or wanted to say.
"Why don't you go into the centre and take care of the other children?" he said to me, dismissing me off, thinking I was inadequate to handle or deal with the situation.
I was not exactly a social worker, after all. Just a trainee. Just a student from some social work department in some university, a burden that was placed in his centre, that he had to take care of.
The children looked at me, they knew who had the power in the centre. They knew who could punish them, and who couldn't. They knew that I was a fake supervisor, that I had no power, that the next time, they got into a fight, there I was someone they needed to be afraid of.
The punishment wasn't fair. The fat boy was the one who called Jake names and he insulted Jake's mother. The other children joined in to provoke Jake together, led by the fat boy. The basketball was flung into the fat boy's face in a moment of anger. But, Jake was the only one punished. The other children were playing happily outdoor in the evening, while Jake remained alone in the centre.
I saw the anger in his face, I saw the accusations. It wasn't fair, his eyes seemed to scream, and I agreed with him.
It wasn't fair, I screamed within my heart. It wasn't... it wasn't... it wasn't fair. But there was nothing I could do about the whole situation. He was the boss, he was the supervisor, he was the one who will feedback to my school about my internship.
And I needed that A badly.
