Focus

Chapter 2

       He is staring at me, awkwardly grinning as he waits for my response. I glance at his face, unaware of what to say. Unable to speak the words falling down my throat.
"Uh..." Is all I can manage for now.
He bites his bottom lip and exhales very slowly. He gives me a slight nod and stands up, walking towards the doorway. "I'm sorry if I caused any disturbance."
"Wait!" I call after him.
He turns his head to where I can only see his dark, beaming brown eyes.
"You're right, I am in need of training," I chuckle, remembering what a coward I was during the fight, too afraid to even throw a punch.
He turns around and smirks. "Alrighty then. Meet me in the training room at six hours–unless The Healing Treatment goes wrong, which rarely ever happens." He then opens the door and leaves the room.
The expected nurse checks up on me, the same hair style as the past times. She brings me the usual chicken broccoli soup I always order, along with a nice cold glass of water. She helps me lift the spoon to my mouth, and only then do I realize how bruised and broken I look. My arms and hands filled with different colors; brown, blue, yellow, purple, green. The nurse brings me a mirror so I can see the damage that has been done to my face. It looks even worse than my arms. My eye completely red where it is supposed to be white. My lip, split open with fresh blood spilling out on top of the already dried blood. Cuts and bruises are scattered all over my face. Thank goodness there is such a thing we call, "The Healing Treatment."
"Are you ready?" The nurse asks, her voice warm and soft.
I nod my head. She then sprays the mist I've grown quite fond of. It deliberately falls onto my face, soaking into my skin. 1... 2... 3...

...

       I wake up in my own, familiar bed, overwhelmed by my roommate's powerful perfume.
       "Dessa, I thought I told you only 2 squirts!" I exclaim.
       "Well sorry, but I need to make sure I smell fabulous when I meet Carter tonight." She rolls her eyes but smiles as she says Carter's name.
       "The smell is going to overpower his poor nose, Dessa."
       "Who cares?"
       "You should, because he might pass out on the floor," I chuckle.
       "Well that'll just give me an excuse to carry him then," she smiles widely, flashing her perfect teeth.
       "If you're strong enough."
       "Whatever," she teases annoyingly, walking out the door.
       I get out of bed and scurry to the bathroom, admiring my new bruise-free face in the mirror. Hopefully it'll stay that way with training.
       I glance at the clock which reads 13 hours. The sun is shining brightly through the window, casting shadows behind certain objects. They say you should stay inside at least 2 hours after The Healing Treatment, but why waste a perfect day? It has only been an hour since the treatment, but I don't want to stay cooped up in this dull room.
       I grab a small water bottle and head out the door, racing out the dorm complex.  Class must've ended early because everyone is outside. Some people are doing parkour, some are practicing at the shooting range, some are working out, and some are just enjoying the day in the sun.
       I drift over to the shooting range, for some reason wanting to practice a bit. I pick up a gun, which strangely feels foreign to my hands. I realize it's a new model, supposedly "bigger and better." It has a different feel to it, like it requires more responsibility and strength.
       "Do you need help with that?" A familiar voice rings. I turn around to find my opponent again, his brown skin glittering against the sunlight.
       "Oh, hi. Um, yeah I guess so. You've used this gun before?"
       "Nope," he laughs. "But you look just confused as I do."
       He's right. I am confused. Not just with this gun, but with my opponent as well, along with many other things. I'm just a confused person in general.
       "Yeah," I agree. I set the gun down and decide to walk away. I don't feel too well and I don't feel like talking to this guy who seems to appear out of nowhere.