The Tour Continued

Hey kids. Sorry I haven't posted in a few weeks. I've been really stressed this week. I almost had a panic attack yesterday. It's a long story, one that I won't bore you with right now.
Well, my life's been quite uneventful these past weeks. My school orchestra went the the Region Orchestra Festival on Wednesday. It took an hour to get there by bus. It was a fun bus ride, though. Me and my friends played a very interesting game of Truth or Dare. Actually, it was more just a game of Truth. Anyways, it was fun. When we got to the school that was hosting the festival, my stand partner and I almost didn't have any music. We had left our music at our school, so we had to make copies of my friends music. We played really well, but we didn't qualify for State. Oh, well. There's always next year.
In my last post, Shawn took Anny on a tour. He showed her the dining hall and the training room, where he demonstrated his skill at knife throwing.

“You’re good,” I said, looking over her shoulder at him, impressed.

“I’d better be. If I wasn’t, my students wouldn’t learn anything,” he replied, grinning.

“You teach knife throwing?” I asked, more impressed.

“Yup. I’m one of the best here,” he bragged.

“Who do you teach?” I asked.

Bow Anny uses.
Image courtesy of Amazon

“New trainee’s. In order to become a member of IFPA, you have to go through a special training program. Most kids who live here take a year off school when they’re fifteen for their training. During training, they learn hand fighting, archery, knife throwing, and fairy history. Your training will only be basic physical and mental strength stuff because we’re running short on time. If you decide to stay once this is over, you’ll go through full training once school starts.”

“Ok, sounds fun,” I said sarcastically. It sounded hard and exhausting, anything but fun. I walked over to the bow rack and picked one up. I held it in one hand and slung a full quiver over my shoulder with my other hand. I pulled an arrow out of the quiver and notched it. Taking aim at a target, I pulled back the string and let the arrow fly. It thudded into the edge of the target.

“Not bad,” Shawn said. “Your stance looked good. You just need to work on your aim.”

I put the bow and quiver back where they belonged and walked to the target I had shot. Pulling the arrow out of the target, I asked, “ Doesn’t it worry you to just leave this stuff laying around? What if someone snuck in here and got hurt?”

“Over the summer and on weekends, we keep the door locked unless a teacher is in here. During training, class is from 1 to 4 and I’m usually in here until 7 every night. Nothing could ever happen without us knowing,” he reassured me.

“Why are you here so late?”

“Sometimes my students come after class to get extra help. If no one comes, I practice.” 
Shawn walked over to a door in the far wall that I had failed to notice. “The girl’s locker room is through here,” he said. “We should keep going. There’s still more to see.”