Finding Hope

ch. 1

I was always weak.

I was always coming to my mom for help.

I was always scared.

But..

My mother had passed away, leaving the tenderness in my house to string apart like old cobwebs.

My father was the only person I had left, and his beady eyes had lost their spark.

In my dusty room, I laid there, head down and helpless. My ears hung over my fluffy knees as I forced salty tears back into my eyes. It had only been a few months since the accident. A terrible, terrible accident that caused broken windows and bones, but mostly broken hearts. After that, the house lost it's motion.

My stomache hurt, it had been a while since my last meal. Pulling myself up off my bed, I tip-toed toward the kitchen.

Rice pudding. That's about all we had other then meatless chili and a stache of stail wheat crackers. When was the last time we had gone shopping?

Whatever, food is food and all that. I sat on the smooth wooden chair and ate quietly, not acknowledging that the only light in the room was from the moon.

The light in our house was gone.

*~*~*~*~*

Sunlight is the last thing you want to see when being depressed. That's why blinds exist. However, today the blinds were open.

I grumbled and turned over in my blankets. No sunlight, go away. But the light still shined through my window, making the dust even more apparent.

Why were my blinds open? There by my window was my dad. He looked different, his ears sagged and his eyes were dull, but he atleast looked like he showered today. It's been a while since he had.

His eyes moved around the room, taking in my obviously depressed state.

Messy bed, messy room, messy laundry, and a messy frown glued to my face.

"Cooky. Get up please." His voice sounded pained and raspy.

Shifting to a sitting-up position, I forced on a fake smile. It didn't really work.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going out today. We're out of food and I need some fresh air."

I was not expecting him to be the first to move on. Or, had he moved on? Is this what moving on looks like? Will he ever move on? Will I ever move on?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I faced him.

"Okay. I'll see you when you get back."

He looked at me sternly, like he was expecting me to say something else. I just tilted my head in confusion. Sighing, my dad finally spoke.

"Why don't you come with me? You'll get cabin fever if you don't." Oh, that's what he wanted. He wanted us to go outside.

I didn't really want to though. I was still in the stages of grief after loosing my mother. But, he was right. I would have probably gone crazy if I didn't go outside soon.

We arrived a few moments later, the store only being one block down. Food looked so good now, cold in the store fridges and hot on the bakery counters.

As we were checking out, I spotted a particular flyer. It was decorated with red, blue, and white, works stretched across it saying "Boxing." My dad noticed my one-second staring and his  ears tilted.

That's when I noticed the words under it.

BOXING
Good for clearing your mind and forgetting the harsh moments in life.
Exercise and be free from problems.

Be free from problems. I almost laughed. The poster might as well have said;

BOXING
Good use of time to forget your mother died in a car accident and get your nose broken!

Either way, my dad seemed interested. He stretched out his pink arm and took the flyer, laying it down into the cart.

*~*~*~*~*

Today my dad and I set out to the World Gym. When we arrived, there were already people in gear huddling by dumbbells and punching bags.

In the far corner of the room was a ring with foam mats and cord following the outside perimeter. People were there with gloves on, throwing punches and ducking down to avoid getting hit.

Behind me, an ebony bunny noticed my scared expression.

"Don't worry, it's not as scary as it looks." He said with a friendly voice.

"Oh, I was just looking I don't think I'll sign up-"

"Come on, it's fun. The gym offers classes for juniors to learn techniques and what-not so I think you'd be fine."  Sending me a smile, he held out his hand.

"I'm Jooky, by the way." I took his brown paw and shook it shyly.

"Jeon Cooky. Or- just Cooky. Nice to meet you," I mumbled out.

"Cooky, do you wan't to sign up for classes?" My attention was brought back to my dad, and I realized I was at the front of the line now. Jooky looked at me with an encouraging look, and I shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" Nodding in response, my dad began writing something down and I turned to Jooky.

"So, are you taking classes or.."

"I'm a senior student. Mostly here just to compete in tournaments." He said, playfully flexing his right arm. I laughed and threw another question at him.

"So, what's your reason for starting anyway?"

"I want to become an instructor or maybe go to the bigger leagues, but I definately am going to be boxing for a career. It's my passion!" Lifting his ears excitedly as he spoke, Jooky smiled again.

Wow, I thought. He's really going to box for the rest of his life... that's so cool!

Oh, if only I knew then.