Closed Doors

O n e

o n e

My eyes flutter open. I look at the clock and groan in frustration hadn't I just fallen asleep 30 minutes ago. I walk through the house as I sit down on one of the coffee tables. It's been a time since my house rent had come but as I sit down ready to start my day. I notice all the money I have to pay. Hadn't I payed only a month ago for the same thing.

Mankind right now is dived into rich and poor, into property owners and exploited; and to abstract oneself from this fundamental divisions; and from the antagonism between poor and rich means abstracting oneself from fundamental facts. In this world the rich lives in deepest corners of the world right now. There are some that are sweet charming and nice and others that are a full of themselves and spoiled brats, but at the end of the day all of them are the same.

Same expectations, knowing that if they don't win something their parents will help them win. Knowing that nothing will be stopping them from their dreams. Expecting the best for themselves. All the things they want they have it. That's just another fundamental fact that people yet to see.

There's no deepest corners for the poor. There's just not a lot of people who are poor and living. If you look at my house you notice that everything is dirty. I can't even go to my own bathroom without cringing in disgust. Days I've spent without a single nutrient on my belly producing acid that is not needed. Yet the real tragedy of the poor is the poverty of their aspirations.

I walk back to my room putting my training clothes on. I thought I made clear that I would not fight Catastrophe. I didn't want those $313,000. Even if I wanted them they wouldn't be going towards me anyways. Johnny wouldn't take no for an answer and so I was stuck in a basement for weeks, but not just in any basement his. The nights I lay crying as blood poured out of my back. The sounds of whip hitting skin was hearable every time I saw his face.

I could still feel his sinful hands as he touched me in places that only my boyfriend was allowed to touch, but he was gone and I knew the moment he started to abused me. My hands chain up to the roof. No food for weeks whatsoever that he was the devil. I hated myself for being so naive and broken, for running to the closest thing of boxing and sadly it was him.

I walk out of the house locking it on my way out. The key was useless anyways. Who would want to break in to a house that had nothing worth taking. I walk through the busy streets of Paris noticing tourist taking pictures in front of some of the most high class restaurants that was too expensive to afford. Upper east side I called them.

Some days like today, 24 hours is too much to stay put in, so I take the day hour by hour, moment by moment. I break the task, the challenge, the fear into small, bite-size pieces. I can handle a piece of fear, depression, anger, pain, sadness, loneliness, illness. I actually put my hands up to my face, one next to each eye, like binders on a horse.

Once I enter the compounds of the gym the first person I see is Welvin Da Great. Long stage names like this made me tired so I simply called him Welvin. He smiled at me once I got in and I just dropped my things. He was my best friend the only one who understood me yet he didn't know anything about me except my poverty. It's a hard life I live in having to tell multiple lies to your closest friends, but are they even considered your closes friends when you can't even trust them?

"Ready to start kiddo?" He asked and I nod my head as I put my uniform on. Johnny never appeared on training days he was too busy on strip clubs and getting drunk on bars because he swears his life is as miserable as mine. I know it is not though because he has a loving family he refuses to acknowledge, while I have it much worse because all I have left is my big sister and hell I can't even trust her when she killed my whole family and boyfriend.