Stepping into this military academy, which is as disciplined and full of vitality as the Whampoa Military Academy, I embarked on my dormitory life with great anticipation for the future and collective living. There were a total of ten people in my dormitory. Only two were from my class, and the other eight were from the neighboring class.
In this military academy filled with a sense of mission and the spirit of hard work, I initially thought that with the common aspiration of defending the country, the barriers between different classes would be eliminated. Also, due to the intense training and study schedules, there would be fewer frictions in daily interactions. After all, our time was fully occupied by high - intensity military courses and physical training. I thought we could live in harmony and progress together in this busy life.
At first, the atmosphere in the dormitory was harmonious. We encouraged each other after the tiring training, treating each other politely and affectionately like comrades - in - arms. However, beneath the peaceful surface, a storm was quietly brewing.
After a day of intense military theory study and physical training, I dragged my heavy legs, which felt like they were filled with lead, back to the dormitory. All I wanted was to lie down and rest to relieve the soreness all over my body. My upper - berth roommate was a girl from the neighboring class. When I first met her, her unique appearance left a deep impression on me.
She was tall and slender, with two long, straight legs. Every time she ran on the training ground, her steps were light and vigorous, making people couldn't help but associate her with the models on the Victoria's Secret runway. She had a short, neat haircut that swayed freely with her movements. Her face was a standard oval shape, with smooth lines. Her chin was slightly raised, exuding a bit of arrogance. Under her straight nose was a mouth that always had a faint smile. When she laughed, a row of white and neat teeth would be revealed.
One day, she suddenly poked her head out, with a big smile on her face, and said excitedly, "I bought a new pair of military boots. They're of great quality. Let me show you!" Before I could respond, one of the boots slapped heavily on my face. In an instant, the intense pain on my face woke me up. Shock and anger welled up in my heart like a tide. I looked up at her and saw her laughing heartily, as if she was watching an interesting farce.
"What are you doing!" I shouted angrily and anxiously. But she casually replied, "Just kidding. Don't be so serious." I was extremely angry and annoyed. What kind of joke was this? I struggled desperately, trying to make her understand how much her behavior had hurt me.
After that, similar things happened repeatedly. I summoned up my courage time and time again to firmly tell her that these behaviors made me very uncomfortable. But she either looked impatient or continued to laugh it off, as if my feelings were worthless in her eyes.
During these depressing days, I constantly reflected and gradually understood a truth: Defending one's bottom line is never an easy task. Even in the face of difficulties, one must never give up. I began to think about how to truly solve this problem and protect myself.
However, no matter how hard I tried to communicate, the girl on the upper - berth didn't change her behavior at all. The mental torture day after day made the dormitory a place I feared. Every time I stepped into the dormitory door, that invisible pressure would come over me, seriously affecting my study and life.
After careful consideration, I submitted an application to move out of the dormitory to the school. On the day of handling the formalities, I silently packed my luggage. Taking a last look at this dormitory that was once full of expectations but now only left me with helplessness, I resolutely turned around and left.
Since then, I started a three - to - four - hour daily commute by bus. Before dawn, I had to wait for the first bus on the cold and quiet street. When the bus arrived, it came with a mix of noise and stuffiness. The carriage was already crowded with people. I squeezed onto the bus with great difficulty and managed to stand firm in the narrow space, tightly surrounded by the crowd, with almost no room to move. Along the bumpy journey, when it came to the transfer station, I had to shuttle through the bustling crowd to find the next bus. Sometimes, I even had to run to catch that bus. After finally getting on the transfer bus, I was once again trapped in the crowded people, continuing to endure the long journey in the shaking. In the evening, when the lights were just turned on, I dragged my tired body back home. Although this journey was full of hardships, every time I thought that I no longer had to face the depression in the dormitory, a sense of relief welled up in my heart.