The story of the only slap I got

I almost forgot this story but it came to my memory today as I was being "talked" by several parties, each believing they're right. Well, I was in the 9th grade (that's the third year in the secondary school) and I was having two terrible changes in my life; I was becoming a teenager with a lot of rebellion and challenge of authority, and I was being bullied by some girls in the school because of Egypt's support for Kuwait upon the Iraqi invasion. We had a female teacher that was the epitome of a "manly woman". She walked, talked, and commanded like tough military men. This woman; Medina; according to my late father, was once a student of his. Dad used to brag whenever her name came up that "I can go and slap her because she was my student" or in Egyptian language "تحبي آجي آخدهالك قلمين". I know I know, this is not the perfect example a father should give his child, but that was dad. Anyway, he said that a couple of times and I didn't care, until one day during the school day, one of the bullying girls harassed my sister and pulled her hair and dropped her to the floor, causing her to lose consciousness. This drove me over the edge and I began to fight with that girl, she spilled a can of juice at my "only" school uniform, I flipped and called her names. She said she'll tell Miss "Medina". I told her.....and I can see where this is going just like movie viewers know...I yelled "My father will come and slap your Medina".
Next day, during the school flag salute, Medina came and stood in front of my class, I knew what will happen, and I braced myself and hoped it wouldn't be in public. She called my name and said "Walk with me." I did, until we entered the headmaster's room, she threw whatever she held in her hand and turned, saying "where is your father to slap me now" and with the sentence completion, she slapped me, right on the cheek...
I shake every time I remember how these few moments felt. I knew back then that I was wrong, way out of line, but all I did was describe what the girl did. She said "you should've come to me and told me". With that she dismissed me, right when the classes were going to their classrooms. I didn't cry nor even utter a word, I held myself firm and my tears in check and walked among the crowds who were looking curiously at me. I held my head up high as if I just had a casual conversation. As the slap burned my cheek, all I could think of is "please God don't let there be finger marks on my cheek". I never actually knew whether there were marks of any kind. I went to class like nothing happened and never gave the girls the pleasure of seeing me shaking. I never told my parents what happened. I was afraid my father would really come to my school, then maybe she would slap him too!!
The morale of the story can be seen between the lines. I hope I learned something out of this story, "Never listen to your father when you don't know whether he can do what he says"