One day I just forgot it, the red scarf we wore every day. I believed it was a piece of the national flag, dyed by the martyrs' blood. I begged my mom to buy a new one at the school gate, otherwise I'd be caught by the Students on Duty who wore red armbands. They seized the ones who talked or ran in the hallway, who failed to make a right angle turn at the landing on the stairs. They patrolled on the pedestrian overpass and roads outside the school. If someone bought candy floss, tofu skins, flavored chicken brittle bones, or deep-fried skewered mutton, they immediately took out the armbands from their trouser pockets: I am a Student on Duty! Tell me your name, class and grade. Let's go to the Discipline Office! I hated them but also dreamed of becoming one of them, who had nothing to be afraid of. In front of my chest, I tied my newest red scarf (the sixth one I think). As loudly as everyone else, I swore: Fight for the cause of communism. Always prepared!