AUTHOR'S NOTE: (PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE PHRASES IN THIS NOTE THAT ARE IN ALL CAPS IF YOU'RE TOO LAZY TO READ IT ALL.)
Warning: This story is currently being edited (to the best of my abilities) and revised. This was the first chapter I revised and attempted to edit. Don't expect it to be done quickly because I ain't got the time to edit and revise all of this within a few weeks or even months. ALSO, BECAUSE THIS IS ALSO BEING REVISED, I'M GOING TO BE TAKING SOME SCENES OUT AND SOME CHARACTERS. The story has some questions left unanswered by the end so I'm pretty much just going to take out some unneeded content in it. If you still want to read, go right ahead.
DON'T LIKE IT- FRUGGIN LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK AND FIND ANOTHER STORY BECAUSE THOSE HATERS WHO COMMENT ON MY SHIZZ ONLY MAKES ME ANGRIER BECAUSE YOU'RE WASTING YOUR OWN TIME IN WRITING IT WHEN THERE IS NO NEED TO DO SO!!!!!!!!!!! GET A LIFE YOU UNCULTURED SWINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CLAIRE TO THE SIDE
1.Glare daggers at the opponent so they're some what intimidated by you
2. Fake a left, then swing right
3. While they're in their state of shock, make a right uppercut
4. Duck, once your opponent swings for your face
5. Bring out your leg and trip them
6. Once they're on the ground make sure you're in a 'sattle stance'. (Both legs spread apart so it's harder to knock you down)
7. As soon as they get up give one last, hard blow to the face
"Winner... White Wolf!" The guy I was fighting laid on the ground, most likely unconscious. My hood was still over my head, covering my light brown, shoulder-length hair. Light hazel eyes were the only thing that showed from under my hood. If you asked me, I think I looked like some sort of dark predator that would strike at any moment.
My body hummed with adrenaline as I itched uncomfortably at the sweat I was beginning to feel in my black belly-high shirt, with matching black booty shorts. I use a different technique almost every time I fight someone new. As soon as I see my opponent, I eye him or her up to see the best way I can take them down and use whatever strategy I have for them.
I raised a hand and wiped the sweat off of my forehead when I heard many people scream my name in victory from the crowd.
A small smirk appeared on my lips as I looked at my bloody and bruised opponent on the floor. Yet, I still felt no guilt or remorse for what I did. I never do. He knew what he was signing himself up for the moment he agreed to fight me. And I, as a street fighter, am built to feel nothing for my actions when I fight. That's just how it is.
That, was currently my fourth win this night and I was starting to tire out a little. But not that much. The most fights I've had in one night have been fifteen. Though, I still managed to win every single fight. I was basically undefeated. Guys usually hate it when they see me because I'm a girl, but I just take that as an advantage. Usually, I'll show them how 'girly' I am when it comes to me and fighting. They think it's a joke to them that I'm girl. Well, I simply show them the funny part of the joke: Me beating them to the ground. Sure it's not funny to them, but for me- of course it is.
"Alright White Wolf, you've made ten grand so far. Wanna continue, or leave with the money?" Nancy, my manager, asked me as she waved the ten grand in my face. Smiling, I brought out my water bottle. I unscrewed the top, bringing the cool and refreshing liquid to my lips, before I gulped down the water.
YOU ARE READING
I'll Fight For YouTeen Fiction
I cocked my head to the side and glared at him. "And if I don't want to go?" I asked him in a challenging voice, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You're coming with me- even if I have to drag your butt out of bed in your pajamas,"...