The Black Raven

Remembering

New recruits always have to go through the test but I had to go through it twice. The first time I got bitten resulted in the second time I had to take the test.

 The bag flies backwards as I punch it again and again. The sand from the red bag falls onto the ground. My knuckles hurt but I pay them no attention. I lift my right leg of the ground and swing it around. It collides with the bag with another satisfying bang. Right, left, right, left. I think. Elbow, punch, kick, punch, elbow, I repeat the sequence again and again. After thirty minutes I stop for a quick rest. I grab a quick drink from my water and pin my wavy black hair back in a bun. After that I go over to the weapons and pick up my weapon of choice, the same as any other training session, a small silver dagger with a five-inch long blade and an engraved hilt. (Technically it belongs to me but I leave it here for safekeeping.) On the hilt is an intricate design of a hundred intertwining lines inside a pentagram. The symbol of a Wicca and on the end of the hilt is a single blue quartz the size of a Ping-Pong ball. It feels like it belongs in my hand, like a dagger should. It feels like an extension of my arm. While I'm at the rack of weapons I also grab the belt of regular smaller throwing daggers and tie it around my waist. I stride over to the throwing target and pull out one of the smaller daggers and put my dagger into its place. I take a breath and put the dagger behind back, over my shoulder. I look up at the target and throw. I watch as the dagger flies through the air, seemingly going in slow motion. It slams dead in the centre. I barely have time to catch my breath before I release the next one it landing only a centimetre from the other one. I throw dagger after dagger only a second after the previous one. When all of the daggers from the belt are gone and I only have my dagger left in it, I take the belt of and place it on a nearby chair. I turn around further from the target than before and get ready to throw when I hear the door opening behind me. I react on instinct. I spin around and throw the dagger to an inch to the side of the person's head that has just came in. They freeze shocked by the knife that came so close to killing them. They stay in the shadows so I can't see their face but as soon as they speak I know who it is.

"You know, you could just ask who it is instead of throwing a dagger at them." They say as they pull the dagger out of the hideous green plastered walls.

"Hey, Eric." I murmur as he walks towards me holding out the dagger.

"Thanks." I grab it and turn around and throw it at the target. Dead in the centre knocking all the other out of the way.

I turn around to face Eric again. He's wearing his usual, black denim jeans, plain brown combat boots and a black tank top that shows of his fit muscled arms. His blonde hair falling over his eyes. I feel heat flush my cheeks and I am suddenly and anxiously aware my own appearance. Tight, black leather pants tide together on the side with leather straps, a black leather corset with buckles around my waist and chest over the top of a zipper. On my feet are knee length black leather combat boots with 2-inch heels, impractical to fight in for anyone else but a necessity for me. Around my eyes I have eyeliner and mascara giving me cat eyes. My heart gives a little flutter as it always does when I see him and we embrace in a hug, a smile spreads wide across my face. Eric lifts me up the puts me back down. He's taller than so he leans down to me and I stand up on my tippy-toes as we kiss a quick kiss careful to make sure that no one is around to watch. He pulls away first and I sigh and lean back from him and onto the table. Its all I get, every week a single rushed kiss. It's all we can risk. There's the usual sad look in his eyes. The look of longing for more but knowing he can't have it and I know I wear the same look. I try and lean in for more but he pushes me away shaking his head.

"No." He whispers. "We can't risk it."

I'm upset like I always am but I shake myself out of my daze and say "Where's the trouble?"