In 1859, England, a dashing young man with soft hands by the name of Lámha L. Boggan set out for school.
He was Irish, as were his parents and the parents before that. And despite the somewhat distasteful bias towards his countrymen by the British, his parents sent him to an English boarding school. Mr. and Mrs. Boggan believed that their son should only have the finest of education, and if that were to be found in Worcestershire, far away from their loving gaze– and in a boy's educational institution, for those of the highest privileges and those with the most maids, then so be it.
That day, Lámha was rather upset at his Greek professor for failing him for the 3rd year in a row – he was now almost 20 and still in the 5th year of school. Furthermore, he had stopped receiving letters from his dear parents after informing them of his short-lived romance with a Jewish girl in the countryside during his third senior trip. Additionally, she broke up with him after just a month of dating because she considered that his breathing was "too loud."
Lámha was a tall man, with hair as red as blood and eyes as green as a toad, he was rather gaunt and had large feet, overall a very strange sight in England. His classmates, his peers, the professors, and even the maids and cooking staff all found him as attractive as a fly over a rotting carcass. They all relentlessly harassed him for any reason they could think of, and it had nothing to do with his Irish descent of course, Dr. Challoner's Grammar School was the most inclusive school in Westershire after all. Further north, they burned the gingers at the stake, so Lámha was very grateful to be able to drink the water and eat the food of Dr Challoners school even if he had to do it alone at his own table.
When he arrived, his feet were sore since the school refused him transport and he had to walk uphill from his student quarters. The rest of the students took the carriages and they leered at him as they passed by.
As soon as he stepped into his first class he was met by his Greek professor who seemed unconcerned. The professor looked down at his book and muttered,
"Lámha are you aware that you failed your last exam?"
"I know, you've told me a few times," Lámha replied.
The professor was a sour old man with patchy gray hair and an opulent cane, some say he had gone to Greece and married a prostitute, but she had left him after he had started balding. But that was just a rumor, and Lámha never believed rumors! They were vile and disobeyed his ethical duties.
"Just making sure you know," The professor looked up briefly then back down. "Also..the school has instructed me to inform you that a ...," he clicked his tongue. "A certain retreat is in the making for you tomorrow"
Lámhas eyes lit up. "A retreat, just for me?"
"Yes yes, now be quiet, your smile is aggravating and the lesson is starting," the professor grumbled.
Nonetheless, Lámha was too excited to pay attention for the rest of the day, and much less understand the schoolwork. As the day progressed, he was insulted by several primary students on behalf of his impure blood, harassed for his big teeth, and threatened by a maid who thought he was a burglar. But he did not let it get him down for he was going on a special trip and nothing was going to ruin that for him. And after all, the latest magazines and newspapers had advised him to stay positive, since most gamblers quit before they win.
That night he went to sleep knowing that something great was ahead of him, and for the first time, he saw the truth in what the school his dearest mother and father had sent him to– that all boys who graduated from Dr. Challoner's were successful and valued.