<div class="floatleft"> (http://fotoalbum.paulvanderlinde.com/main.php? g2_view=core.DownloadItem&amp;g2_itemId=59794)</div><br/><strong>Name</strong>: Tristyn Phoenix<br/><strong>Time</strong>: two weeks after his 16th birthday.<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Noone at the moment<br/><br/><br/><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;">"Tristyn?..."</span></em>the deep and stern yet familiar voice echoed down the hall as the 16 year old turned in that direction.  The muscular and cut black man started down the hall wearing his normal wear of dress blues.  Jefferson Davis was Timothy Phoenix's best friend since they were kids.  Now his dead best friends wife had asked if he could get tristyn from school.  The phone call went out to Tristyns mother who was aboard a ship. So Jefferson came to the rescue.  Seeing the shimmer on the 16 year olds face, the giant black man spoke softly<em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;">"what the hell happened kid?" </span></em><br/><br/>It had been almost a year since his fathers death.  But the fights just began as kids would egg the sophomore on. Jests like<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><em>"hows poor old daddy doing...in hell?"</em></span>would ultimately end in fights.  This time his fight ended with a blunt end of a baseball bat that had hit him in eye. But Tristyn smirked saying<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><em>"you should see the other kid though... I mean Jefferson he deserved it... he..."</em></span>the black man stopped him from speaking and after talking with the principle they soon left.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><em>"your mother is angry... this needs to stop man... what would your dad think..."</em></span>they drove off heading home.  Tristyn stared off into space thinking about what would his father say. He turned speaking softly<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"> <em>"look Jefferson,  I'm sorry they were saying stuff again...like before"</em></span>this wasn't his first fight. The man spoke nodding at the child as he drove<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><em>"I get that kid, I do but you cant let this stuff get to you,  rember your fathers words... what has he taught you?" </em></span>he could here is father speaking as he remember when dad and Jefferson first showed him boxing.  The words tolled into his head<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><em>" Sun Tzu said the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting... your hands are your greatest weapons Tristyn,they are only to be used when you absolutely need them, when there is no other options. Learn where that line is and learn that sometimes to win the fight you need to lose." </em></span>he would repeat those words daily after this fight knowing he didn't want his dad disappointed in him.  Looking at his hands he vowed inwardly to never use them again for fear of disrespecting his father.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>