Home is not a Place

26• Good People

I try closing the door, but I'm way too weak. He shoves his way right in and grabs a hold of my hair, yanking me right to the floor. I wail and collapse. The team didn't teach me how the hell to get someone's hand out of my hair.

I quickly flip over and scoot backwards, out of his reach as he tries to grab me again. I squeal, kicking and thrashing at him. The weird look he gives me nearly lightens the mood, but then he grabs a hold of my ankle and jerks me to him.

He lifts me up, but my arms are free, so I use them. I elbow his nose, blood gushing out almost instantly. He growls and throws me at the wall, my head banging against it when I can't stop myself.

"Shit." I grab my head as it roughly pounds. Dots scatter in my vision, and I swear the floor is rocking beneath my feet.

Whoever this man is grabs me from behind, but there's no way in hell I'm going to let him throw me around. I remember seeing something off a movie where someone ran up the wall and took the guy down with him.

Even though I might break my neck, I decide to try it. I run my legs up the wall, and at the last step I kick off of it. The man lets go of me, and as he does, I grab his head, my fingers digging into his skin. I hear him scream as I feel something wet spill over my skin, but I'm too distracted with the fact that I am sailing through the air.

I fall to the floor, my body slamming hard against it. I take him down with me, though, so that has to be a plus. Right?

I let go of him because for one, I can't breathe. The wind has been knocked out of me. And secondly because my fingers are wet.

When I can finally sit up without throwing up or coughing, I turn to look at him. I cringe when I see the horrible wound I have given him. He is bleeding from one eye, his hands covering the body part as if doing so would save it. I honestly don't think anything could save his eye. I clawed it.

"Oh my God..." I mumble and slowly scoot away. It's a good thing I'm scooting closer to the toilet because there's something gross rising in my throat.

I grab the toilet seat and lean over it, vomiting into the bowl.

Time after time, I heave.

If this was a television show and I was watching myself, I would be telling myself to get off the fucking floor and grow a pair.

I shut my mouth and wipe it, extending my arm to flush the toilet. After I do that, I turn around, and I guess it is just in time. The guy with the gushing eye is charging toward me once again, this time furious as hell.

I won't last a second.

Unless I can get my ass up.

I quickly scramble to my feet and grip my hands in fists in front of my face. He doesn't even hesitate to punch me twice in the stomach, one after the other like I'm a punching bag. I deflect a third punch, and I feel so cool when I do it that I smile, but then he punches me right in the face.

I bet twenty dollars he cracked my cheekbone.

He goes for another punch, but I swiftly move to the left and take off toward the shower. He chases me, half-blind, right to where I want him to be. I turn the shower water on extremely hot, steam immediately erupting from the spout. I smile and take the shower head off, aiming it right at the guy.

The guy gets the water right in the face.

I proudly take him to the ground and bask in the fact that I listened to what Ajax said about using the objects around me. He was right. It helps a lot, especially when my opponent is as huge as John Cena.