What would you do if the first time you entered prison everyone thought you were weak without knowing that you could beat them with just one hand? When Tomás entered the rusty door of the Santa Cruz penitentiary, the air seemed heavier. His downcast gaze and his thin body made him the perfect target. No one would have thought that this quiet man with gestures hid a past that few would dare to face.
Recently convicted for a street fight in which he ironically defended an old man from robbers. Tomás was sent to prison for two years for excessive use of force. He was not a criminal, but he had already learned that justice often favors the attacker. Upon entering, it was not even 30 minutes before he was noticed by Rat, a prisoner known for intimidating new ones.
Tall, muscular, with a scar crossing his face and a crooked smile. The rat approached with his group like a vulture smelling of blood. Look what they brought us. A toothpick with the face of a monk. Are you coming to pray or cry, newbie? The others laughed. Tomás didn’t answer, he just lowered his gaze and continued walking.
But that was enough for the rat to sense it. He pushed him against the wall and threw the first punch at him, not to hurt, but to mark his territory. Thomas let him beat him. It wasn’t time yet. But what no one knew was that this thin, quiet man was no ordinary prisoner. In his youth he had been a martial arts instructor for the police and trained with some of the best kungfu masters in the world.
And although he had sworn never to use his skills again, he was about to break that promise. The next few days were hell for Tomás. The rat and his gang followed him to every corner of the prison, to the dining room, to the yard, even to the showers. They threw his food on the floor, stole his soap and sometimes forced him to clean his cells like a slave.
“Move over, slave,” one of the thugs would say as he threw a dirty tray at him. That’s what they taught the weak in church. Every insult, every push, every look of contempt was another spark in the campfire that Tomás tried to suppress, but something inside him was starting to creak. He knew he couldn’t last long without exploding, not out of pride, but out of dignity.
One night, while sweeping the hallway in front of the rat’s cell, one of the thugs’ accomplices put his foot on him to trip him. Thomas knelt down and all the prisoners around him laughed. The rat came closer and spat near his face. Stay on the floor like your dog. But this time Thomas didn’t get up right away.
He stood there and took a deep breath with his fists clenched, feeling every muscle in his body remember his workout. The calmness of his mind was in contrast to the chaos of the insults. That night, when he returned to his cell, his roommate, an old man with tattoos who had been silently watching him since he arrived, told him in a seductive voice, “I know who you are.
I saw you at a tournament a few years ago. Why did you put up with all this?” Tomás looked at him. He didn’t answer, but a faint smile was drawn on his face. Because what no one knew was that the lion didn’t respond to the barking of dogs, it was just waiting for the right moment to roar. O estopim bello numa tarde abafada, no patio de exerrcicios.
The prisoners were free for an hour, enjoying the little sun that crossed the high walls of the prison. Tomás walked quietly as usual, avoiding provocation. But the rat didn’t just want to embarrass him, he wanted to make an example of him. Flacucho shouted rata, calling everyone’s attention. Hi, today is graduation day.
Let’s see if you know how to defend. Without warning, I advanced with a direct blow. Thomas dodged as if he had seen the movement with almost supernatural silence. Elrata’s group laughed, thinking it was luck, but the second blow came faster and Tomás dodged again. This time he started thinking of a low and centered position. What would happen? Tienes takot taunted El Rata, now angry.
And then it happened with a precise turn, Tomás deflected the third blow and in one fluid movement grabbed the attacker’s arm and knocked him down with controlled force. He fell to the floor with a dry thud, groaning in pain. The yard fell silent. One of the men quickly advanced. A few seconds later, Tomás knocked him down with a direct kick to the stomach.
Another tried to grab him from behind, but he was thrown to the concrete like a rag doll. Neither of the men could hold him. The majority of the prisoners now no longer saw, they were watching. Mouths open. The man everyone thought was weak, danced between attacks like a ghost, fast and precise. None of his movements were exaggerated, just effective and deadly.
When the last attacker was on the ground, Tomás stopped in the middle of the circle formed by the prisoners. He was seductive, but calm. In his eyes, Rata looked at him, staring at him with fear in his eyes. “I warned you,” Tomas said in a low voice. Silence was not to be confused with weakness. From then on, no one else dared to approach him without respect.
From that day on, the tone of Tomás’s name was different in the prison corridors. It was not a reason to joke, but to respect. Even the prison guards watched him carefully. And Rata, humiliated in front of everyone, spent several days in the infirmary and when he returned, he avoided making eye contact with the man who had destroyed his pride for a few minutes.
Thomas used his success to dominate anyone. Continue to be silent, fulfill your days with discipline. But now, as he walked through the corridors, the prisoners walked by. Some even greeted him with a slight wave, watched him with admiration from the younger children, arrested for petty theft, approached him in the library and said: “Puesenme lo que sabes?” Tomás o ol, penso y for the first time in a week really smiled.
Of course, but first you have to learn to have patience, to transform pain, silence into power, shame into wisdom. When he got out of prison, after a few years, he didn’t leave when he went in. Not the only person who survived hell. He was the master who earned respect without having to destroy anyone, just by showing who he really was.
So he left a mark that no one will forget, because in a world where many growl to scare, he chose to be silent until he had to growl. What do you think of this story? Have you also experienced being belittled? Let me know in the comments. Subscribe and don’t forget to like it if this story touched your heart.