Fallen Queen

~ C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N ~

It's common for anger to get the better of me, always. It's like a destructive incoming force that would squash me anyway if I try not to let it out. Anger is my better half- it gives me strength and breaks my restraints. When I was angry, everybody turned into a foe- everybody became faceless- when I let anger break the little rationality in me for a temporary period, all I see are fiery enemies in the darkness of my perception. The memories of the ruckus I'd caused in the club is a constant reminder of my doings- yet I can't justify whether it is right or wrong. Not this time. The same sentence rings in my head every now and then subconsciously, making me feel like a criminal.

"Your temper is becoming your monster and you're succumbing to it."

Am I succumbing to it?

"You're distracted today, Achelois," Elide mutters as I barely dodge her attack. She almost got me. "This is not like you, Achelois," she groans and drops her stance, "You're awfully out of it today," she walks out of the spread of mats, "Take a break."

"No, it's-"

"No buts, Achelois," she gives me a pointed look, "You can't do it well if you're thinking about something else. Have a break and tell me what's troubling you, if that's fine with you, of course." She hands me a bottle of glucose and slumps down on the bench. "You still hold your own pretty well when you're not into it."

"It's normal, Eli," I shrug, "I've been doing Krav Maga since like, I was eight or something. I've been pitted up against a lot of guys. To survive, you need to be strong."

"Good ideals," she sends an impressed smile my way, "You have a way with words, don't you? They hit hard." I shrug in response, and stretch my left arm as I hold the sipper bottle in the right one. Elide pats beside her on the bench, "Sit down." I sit down, in no mood to object and make a big deal out of it. Placing the bottle between us, I put my elbows on my thighs and look sideways towards the sky through the glass walls.

Learning self-defence is not a skill anymore, it is a raw necessity. I've practiced Krav Maga since I was eight, with a couple of kids from our neighbourhood. We went to a Krav Maga Center together all the way till high school and split into different directions for Uni, but since most people belonged to my class, the one for the select kids, we all landed up in Harvard, almost. We continued Krav Maga there under the sports and arts section. However, since it was most guys that took Martial Arts as their Sport Choice, I was usually pitted against guys. And however much I didn't care, I'd always loved to win, so I'd never whine because I was pitted against a boy- I'd decided to get stronger as a woman and hold my own.

I'd never given up on Krav Maga. From just an interesting art, it had become a necessity. Having spent all my life learning and practising Krav Maga, I would say that the craft taught you spontaneity and prepared you to use your best prudence when in a tight spot. It came with mind conditioning and the ability to read the density of a threat in a given situation.

"We could go for a drink. Skip class today, focus on what you're worried about."

"No, thanks," I smile and brush it off, "It's nothing, actually. I'm just worried about nothing much. Plus," I laugh heartily, "Too close. The last time I went for drinks, it ended up in a mess." Elide laughs along with me. "Knowing you, I can't refuse anyways," she shrug, "Who did you almost send to death's door?"

"I wasn't into it, trust me," I laughed, "I just broke stuff and beat someone up, but not as intense as Krav Maga. The liquid was probably making me shaky and I was irritated, so I went with my instincts."

"I'd say it was your famous temper rather than instincts," she pauses and I stare at her as she puts her hands up defensively, "I know that word is taboo to you, but like you say, it is what it is."