csssshhhhhhh..... One is the loneliest number that you will ever do! Twooo can be cssshhhhh.... as one.... its the loneliest number since the number one..... No is the saddest experience you'll ever.... cshhhhehhhhh

The crackling of the old radio finally takes over the depressing song and static is all the can be heard. The calendar on the wall has writing on the current day. It has been 5 years since Vellore's mother was kidnapped and he was taken in by Derek. Five long gruling years he has spent wondering if only he had been able to save her. If only he had realized that car was showing up everywhere they went that day.

"If only I beat shit out of them..." He speaks in broken English that he has been learning from Derek. Who obviously isnt the best role model for a 10 year old boy.

Derek looks over at Vellore, both of them sitting in the run down apartment living room. The couch has rips in it everywhere and the chair Derek had just sat in only has 3 legs. Dust puffed up from the chair as Derek sat there and it is all now up in the air, very visable thanks to the sun just poking through the blinds. The blinds only really blocking two major spots on the window the rest of the areas have broken off.

Derek puts his hand on Vellore's shoulder and lets out a long sigh.

"There was nothing you could do. The police report said they killed multiple people. You would have just been another one." Derek gives a very sad look to Vellore before getting up and walking into the kitchen, that looks no better than the living room.

"I swear god.... I find you and protect you again mom!" A few tears roll down Vellore's face and he slashes a line through the day that had his mothers name written down on it. His anger begins to get the better of him and he rips the 1997 calender off the wall throwing it towards the trash can but missing.

He drops to his knees entering a full on break down now, what else is a ten year old child to do. Derek rushes into the room and drops down consoling Vellore. Derek tosses the bag he was holding in front of Vellore and unzips it.

"I want to bring you to the gym tonight, you are going to start learning jiu-jitsu early. I know you have only taken one tae-kwon-do class, but this is different, this is a whole new experience, its a whole new life!" Derek has not yet had Vellore train in the gentle art of jiu-jitsu but he knows that it will be the best way to keep his mind off of his missing mother. Derek reaches down and pulls out a black gi top, black gi pants and a rash guard that has Vellore's name on it in the colors of Derek's gym's team.

The fluidity of jiu-jitsu is something that takes most people 10,000 hours of training. Even after achieving a black belt some people aren't as fluid as the young 10 year old Vellore was on his first day.

The black belts teaching the child's program were almost confused with how a child having no background in martial arts what so ever could be so brilliant at jiu-jitsu.

Wrestler? No.

Judoka? No.

The Karate Kid? Hell No.

This kid was just blessed with amazing timing skills, great balance, and the ability to learn new things with little to no problem. The single leg take down, double leg take down, Pulling guard, arm bar, triangle choke, and the kimura all takedowns amd moves learned by Vellore on day one of training. The 30-40 year old teachers had never seen such a work ethic from just a single child before.

Yet none of the black belts knew of this young child's only motivation. There was only one person in the entire gym that knew about his mother and his desire for revenge. To call it a need for Vellore to exact his revenge would be underselling his anger. He knew that it didn't matter how long it took he would find his mother and he would make the offender pay for his mistake. With jiu-jitsu helping his attacking and defending skills the chances of him going on a hunt for his mother only came closer and closer.

BEEEEEEEEPPP

the sound of the buzzer from the timer on the wall meant it was time for the children to roll live. A one on one match of child versus child, technique versus technique.... Or lack there of at such a young age. All of the children were paired up except for one, Vellore.

Vellore was singled out and the sound of a second buzzer started the rest of the children's matches. Vellore was confused until a young adult maybe around the age of 17 walked onto the mat in front of him.

The young man was wearing a white gi with a blue belt tied around it and he smirked devilishly at Vellore. Vellore knew what was happening and he was ready for the challenge.

"I want you to smash him Vellore" The words from Derek echoed around the matted area of the gym as Vellore and the blur belt began their roll.

The traditional slapping of the hands and bumping of the fists starts off the match. The two begin to stagger around the other, feints are made towards a leg or arm to make the other flinch but the blue belt finds out that Vellore doesn't back off.

Instead it was Vellore who shot in and finished a take down on the older, stronger, heavier, more advanced blue belt! The double leg take down he had just learned worked and set up the perfect arm bar opportunity but Vellore was too un-experienced to take advantage of the moment.

The weight difference allowed for the blue belt to toss Vellore off of him like a rag doll and escape back up to his own feet. The two again staggering around each other. Vellore again the aggressor.


A mental image of his mother shot into his head as he dropped his knee down for the single leg take down and he was stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes instantly filled with more water than a shark's tank, and they over flew. Tears running down his brown cheeks and dropping onto the mat, but it wasn't the only thing dropping to the mat.

A hard cross face from the blue belt draws blood and the blood follows along the streams of tears. The mixture on the mat alarms the coaches but only infuriates young Vellore. He explodes up to his feet and in an amazing jump is able to lock his own legs around one leg of the blue belt. Vellore tucked his head, rolled and ended up in a seated position above the blue belt with the blue belt's leg sticking up and Vellore pulled down powerfully.

POP!


CRACKLE!


TAP! TAP! TAP!

After hearing and feeling the popping in the blue belts knee Vellore felt three swift taps on his shoulder, it was his opponent submitting.

Glory.

Victory.

Perfection.

This was the first time Vellore had ever felt anything like it, and he loved ever second of it... Or so he thought until the black belt coaches pulled him aside and began shouting at him in Portuguese.

They pointed at the blue belt who was now the one crying and rolling round on the mat. Vellore couldn't stop smiling even though he was in trouble and he knew it. He was just so happy thinking he could use this move on the men who took his mother!

"Damn it! You broke his fucking knee Vellore!"