Page 37 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

because we did not like each other very much from the very beginning, I became the
ideal object for the wreaking of his discontent with God knows what.

I don't want to seem biased, but not a single class-mate, even the most fearful
one, blamed me for what happened a few minutes later. And even those who did not
like me much were very pleased to the bottom of their hearts that there was someone
at last who braved the "thunderstorm" of an indignant mother and taught an arrogant
bully a good lesson. Frankly speaking, the lesson turned out to be cruel enough, and
if I had had the choice to repeat it, I probably would not have done such a thing again
to him. But no matter how much I felt shame and pity, I have to admit that the lesson
was very well learnt and the hapless "usurper" never again showed any inclination to
terrorize the class.
On choosing his "victim", as he thought, Remi headed straight toward me and I
understood that conflict, regrettably, could not be avoided. He began to bug me, as he
always did and suddenly something in me broke out. Maybe it happened because I
had been subconsciously waiting for it a long time? Or maybe I was sick and tired of
bearing his insolent behaviour all the time, without any comeback? One way or
another, the next second he got a strong blow in his chest, which threw him from his
desk to the blackboard and, on flying in the air about three meters, plopped down on
the floor like a squealing sack.

I never knew how I could perform this blow. The point is that I did not touch
Remi at all – it was a pure energy blow, but I can not explain even now how I
managed to do it. An indescribable havoc spread among the class – somebody
squeaked in fright, somebody yelled that it was necessary to call the ambulance and
somebody rushed to bring the teacher, because whatever he was, he was her now
"disabled" son. I stood in a frozen stupor, wondering what I had done and not
understanding how it had happened.
Remi moaned on the floor, making himself out to be the almost dying victim,
which really horrified me. I had no idea how strong the blow was and therefore could
not know even approximately whether he was playing to take revenge on me or he
truly felt that bad. Somebody called the ambulance, the teacher-mother came, and I
still stood stiff as a poker, unable to talk, so strong was the emotional shock.
– Why have you done that? – The teacher asked.

I looked into her eyes and could not pronounce a word. Not because I was
unaware of what to say, but because I still could not come back to myself from the
terrible shock of what I had done.
I can not say what the teacher saw in my eyes, but the violent indignation which
everyone so expected did not follow, more precisely, nothing happened at all.
Somehow she managed to control her indignation and calmly told us to sit down and
began the lesson. Just like that! As if nothing happened, although it was her son who
was a victim!

I could not understand it (nobody could), and I could not calm down because I
felt very guilty. It would have been far easier for me, if she had shouted at me or
expelled me from the class. I perfectly understood that she must be very offended over
what had happened and it was very unpleasant for her that it was exactly me who did

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