Not much to say about this story, you just have to read it and see what you think of it for yourself.
(Oh, and for once I made my own cover lol, so cover courtesy of moi :P)
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You know those days in life when you look to the stars and think about how lucky you are? You think that there is more out there, that you are just a small insignificant part to the revolutions of our big planet? Yet, you still have time to pause and realise that no matter how small you are, that you still count?
That brings me to fate, is it just a conspiracy designed to cloud our minds away from the reality of chance? To slap a label on something just because you can? Or does it actually exist? Was it fate that brought me to the realisation that no matter what you do, you die in the end? That every moment counts and if you don't live life when you are given it, then you are wasting what others would cherish with open hands?
What it comes down to is faith. For if we don't have faith, then what do we have?
~*~
The sound of the shrill bell rang in my ears, making my body stiffen. Wiping some of the sweat off my forehead, I turned back to face my opponent slipping my mouth guard back into place.
"You can do it Dawn!" My dad shouted, pulling strenuously on the blue rope that surrounded the boxing ring, the bright lights highlighting the drops of sweat that were trickling down his face.
Focus Dawn, I chanted to myself, feeling my heart beat erratically, the adrenaline being pumped around my body by the bucket load. Eyeing up my opponent carefully, I anticipated a right punch so I rearranged my footwork accordingly. With a side step I aimed a punch below the belt and my opponent went reeling backwards.
"Yes!" I screamed through my mouth guard, but my victory was short lived as I was quickly under the attack again.
Getting a sharp punch to my forehead, my head snapped backwards, pain spreading like a bolt of lightening. Amongst the scrutinising pain I felt blood trickle down my face, momentarily blinding me when it went in my eye, impairing my vision. My opponent took advantage of this, and a series of punches were thrown at my stomach, winding me. Coughing and gagging I found myself leaning against the rope next to my father. I quickly turned to look at him from the corner of my bloody eye. He nodded, telling me it was okay.
My stomach was on fire, each haggard breath making my mouth waver with agony. I can do this! I can't let her win. This is the final for peeps sake! Getting a newly found surge of energy I launched myself back into the fight, throwing a few useless punches before I got into the rhythm.
The fight was close, my body was screaming at me, telling me to stop, that is was nothing but fruitless. Yet I ignored the pain, ploughing on with my heavy movements.
Throwing all my weight into my right fist I pushed it up under her chin causing my knuckles to click with the impact. Her head ricocheted backwards and she immediately fell to the ground with a resounding thump, a groan escaping her bloody lips. The clock on the board ticked agonisingly slowly, the seconds decreasing the number on the board until the final bell rang signifying the end of the match.
There was a deafening roar as the crowd leapt to their feet screaming and cheering my name. I looked at the girl slowly being dragged off the ring and felt tears spring to my eyes. All my life I had dreamed of this moment and now that I had reached it I didn't know what to think. Hearing my name being called from behind me I turned to see my father beaming, a splutter of laughter leaking from his handsome face.
Joy overwhelmed my senses as I clung onto my father, wincing at the pain that was thundering through my bruised body as he clamped me in a hug. I didn't care though, this moment was mine and I wasn't going to let anything ruin it. I had done it! I had won the championships!
"I'm so proud of you Dawn," dad said, helping me to take off my sweaty gloves. He then proceeded to engulf me in another huge bear hug. He was proud of me, I could see if pouring out of every pore in his body and this made me want to cry. I was so happy, so happy I wanted to cry.
The cheering was endless, a constant throng of claps and whistles, all in elevation for my victory. This match was going to change my life. Scouts from all across the world had turned up, and there was no way I was going to go unnoticed.
Letting out a burst of blissful laughter, I embraced my father with zeal.This was completely and utterly surreal! Yes, I had trained endlessly for months with dad to get to this point, but I never thought I would actually win it. Words can't describe how much this meant to me.
When the hype had calmed down the referee dragged me by the hand to the middle of the ring. He then presented me with a huge belt trophy that I clasped eagerly. The gold glittered under the harsh boxing lights, my name to be engraved across the front. Grinning ecstatically I lifted the belt over my head, a roar from the crowd shortly following.
This was the best moment of my life.
I got changed into my clothes after the ceremony in a daze, my thoughts consumed by the match. "Dawn," my father called, snapping me out of my reverie.
"Um yes," I replied, giving up all hope of tying the laces of my shoes peacefully, so instead I looked up at my dad. His grin reached the side of his mouth, near his greying sideburns. Wrinkles were forming under his eyes from the restless sleeps he had endured since the death of my mum - he had never been the same since that day two years ago.
"What do you say we go out and have a nice meal, in that restaurant you have been dying to go to for the last seven years, to celebrate?" He sat down on the bench next to me, his hands placed on his lap patiently, looking at me with adoration. I loved that about my dad, always so patient and caring.
"Really?" I stuttered. Going to Gordon Ramsey's restaurant had been a dream of mine for years. It felt strange that I would accomplish two of my dreams on exactly the same day.
"Of course pumpkin, you have just won the championships. I want to treat you after all the hard work you have been putting in after school hours these past few months. Besides, it's my birthday next week and I want to take my seventeen year old daughter out to celebrate, therefore, it's a win win for both of us."
I smiled at him and his dramatic display, "Oh, okay then. But do you mind if we stop off at the convenience store quickly, so I can buy a pack of gum? I really want to freshen up my breath before we go. My mouth feels like a cement mixer." My teeth were all fury from the mouth guard, and who knows, considering I had just won the British championships Gordon could see me himself. How bad would it be if I had skank breath?
Dad nodded, slowly standing up and heading for the door. "Don't take too long, we don't want to miss our reservation."
Reservation? He had planned this. What if I had lost? Wouldn't be so smug then, would he? Looking back down at my shoes I continued to tie a knot before I grabbed my coat and headed for the exit, questions already on the verge of rolling off my tongue.
"What's all this about a reservation?" I accused, opening the door to our beaten up van. I had loved sticking my head out of the window when I was a child, feeling the wind flutter my brown hair in a trail against the white of the van. It was a dream of mine to feel like I was flying and sticking my head out of the window of a moving veichle seemed to be the furthest I had got to that dream yet.
"Well, I booked a table just in case you won, so that we could celebrate in style. Did you know that there is a six month waiting list just for a table at this restaurant?"
I blinked at this revelation, shocked. Six Months? Wow, okay I see his tactics slightly, that is sure a long time to wait for just to eat dinner. "What if I had lost," I asked, genuinely interested.
"Well, I would have forgotten the reservation, driven you home and ordered the deluxe margarita pizza takeout for you."
Tipping my head to the side, I let a smile encompass my features, pure love flowing out of me like a stream. "Aw thanks dad, you truly are the best dad, coach - whatever you are." I never had pizza because of the strict diet I was put on for the competition. Dad may be the best father ever, but he sure as hell wasn't a slack coach. The fact he was my dad seemed to make it worse, because he seemed to be able to push me that much further.
"Well, you are my favourite daughter," he chuckled, patting me affectionately on the knee.
"Um thanks, so do I need remind you that I'm your only daughter, or have you been suffering with denial?"
"Oh Dawn, you know you are the only girl for me," he teased, pulling over into a vacant spot right next to a convenience store. "There you go, be quick now," he said, indicating to the shop.
"Dad," I began, "I don't have any money, and I don't particularly want to go in their alone," I whined, bringing out the enormous baby blues as a weapon. The shop looked dodgy and lets just say it wasn't in the best area in the city.
"Dawn, your seventeen, you don't need an escort to go into the shops," he replied, looking at me with disbelief, the tips of his mouth perking up at the corners.
"Please, it will only take two secs." I glanced wearily over to the entrance, taking in the dirt splattered glass and peeling signs.
"Fine, but I don't want you ever telling me that I don't do anything for you."
We both got out of the car and headed into the small convenience store, a small bell chiming when dad opened the peeling green door. "Be quick will you, I don't want to miss the reservation," he whispered, holding the door open for me, looking round the shady store with broken filament lamps.
Heading straight for the small isle with all the snacks and sweets I began searching the rows for some chewing gum. Haribo, Galaxy, Doritos... ah, gum! I picked up the silver wrapper and headed for the checkout looking around for dad. When I couldn't spot him, I gave a small shrug and waited at the till for a few minutes.
"Dad," I called, walking down the isles to see if he was browsing, my patience had melted like ice, my mood beginning to deepen.
Hearing a loud scuffle towards the back, I gradually walked over to see what dad had done this time. Last time we went to the supermarket he had knocked an entire shelf down. It was the most embarrassing situation ever, especially when the cutest guys had been watching with his mates, their howls of laughter haunting me like the bad acting of Nicholas Cage.
An ear-splitting bang, followed by a groan, echoed nosily like a boomerang up and down the rows, raising the hairs on my neck. Feeling my hands drop the gum I began to run to the sound. Peering round the corner, I glimpsed the first sight of red, and it was then that I knew something was seriously wrong. Letting out a small sob, I leaned my head completely around the bend to see the full extent of what had happened.
What I saw made me gasp, the image scratched roughly in my brain forever. Inclined over the lifeless body of my father was a man dressed entirely in black. He turned to face me, startled at my presence, a gun nestled under his arm. His face was pale and hollow, black bags settled under his eyes giving him a pasty demeanour. Lanky brown hair hung in clumps across his forehead and when he looked at me determination was set in his cold brown eyes. The only thing I could say about him when thinking back to this dreadful day was that he looked desperately hungry. Nothing more.
Feeling my heart stutter I froze, my muscles becoming despondent, refusing to allow me the use of my legs. Dad! Was the only thought running through my head as we held a glaring match, neither of us wanting to be the first to move. The desperation in the man's eyes looked feral, almost like the wild eyes of a deer caught in the head lamps of a car. I felt no pity for the man after what he had done, only rage, rage that seemed to blaze through my thoughts as I tried to move.
I don't know how much time passed, only that the pool of blood surrounding my father had doubled in size, the floor stained this horrible dark souless red. My dad's eyes were open, not the gracious ending you would imagine for such a great man. If it weren't for the blood he looked like he could be sleeping, but the blood, oh the blood. No-one could loose that amount of blood and still live.
The distant sound of sirens began to override my thoughts, and I soon found my legs freeing themselves from that paralysing grasp.
Darting for my father I collapsed to the floor looking into his pale cloudy eyes, holding his still warm hand, his fingers slumped lazily. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I felt utter rage wrack my bruised body.
Letting out a low whimper I lunged for the door to stop the murderer from escaping the shop. I would not let the man who did this escape! But he must have been desperate because with one blow to the head I was knocked out cold.
An ungracious end to an ungracious murder.
~*~
I awoke to the sound of a steady beep, beep, beep that seemed to pace my breathing. Groggily opening my crusty eyelids, bright light shone into my eyes quickly making me shut them again.
"She's awake," a distant voice called.
With another attempt to open my eyes, I gradually lifted the lids allowing my pupils to contract and adjust to the white light.
"About time, she's been out cold for two hours," said a different more masculine voice. "We will give her a few minutes to wake up completely then we will have a chat."
Chat? Why would we need to have a chat? What has happened? Questions bubbled endlessly, overflowing my mind in a steady stream.
"Hello dear," said the first voice, my eyes slowly focusing on the middle-aged woman in a uniform pacing before my bed, her cheeks pink.
"Hi," I replied, my voice coming out as harsh croak, leaving my voice box feeling like it was rubbing against sandpaper.
"You've got quite a bump to the head so take it steady for the meantime," she hurriedly said when I attempted to prop myself up on my elbows.
"Okay," I replied, ignoring her anyway. What was I doing here? Feeling my throat constrict I knew that something was wrong. Pieces of the last twenty fours hours began to slowly fill into place; the match, winning, restaurant, stopping, gum... Gagging, I held my stomach as I remembered the blood. All the blood. Small sobs began to leave my mouth, leaving me feeling hollow and empty. No, I refuse to believe it! He can't be! My cheeks began to ache from the effort of keeping it together. I looked up at the woman, who was watching me with sad knowing eyes, begging, pleading with her to tell me he was alright.
With a sombre shake of her head my life fell completely and utterly to pieces.
"No," I whimpered, bunching the blankets up around me. "No," I repeated again more quietly, this time to myself. Feeling a wet patch on the blanket, I used my limp had to touch my cheek. Tears were streaming down endlessly without me even realising it. It was like someone had turned on a tap and wouldn't turn it off. I couldn't accept it; he was alive and happy only a few hours ago, teasing me about my cowardly behaviour.
Oh God, it was my fault, if only I hadn't been so selfish and gone into the shop alone, maybe it might have been me being zipped up in a black bag, not dad. Guilt washed over me and I found myself wanting to scream at the top of my lungs. Why? He didn't deserve it. Without him I was nothing, just an orphan with a pair of useless boxing gloves.
Useless, useless, useless.
It was then that I began to cry, real sobs, sobs that wracked my body releasing all the anguish and guilt I felt. If only I hadn't gone into the shop. If only I wasn't a boxer, then none of this would have happened.
It was all my fault.
Curling up into a ball I rocked myself back and forth, trying to forget everything that had happened. If I pretend it doesn't exist then it won't exist, I told myself uselessly. Anything to make the pain go away...
A few minutes later, a male doctor emerged through the doorway, holding a clip board and pity expressed across his face. "I'm sorry," he began, "But your father was already dead before we arrived on the scene. There was nothing we could do."
I said nothing. Only staying curled up in the small ball, another salty tear rolling down my cheek. I wanted him to say that everything was alright and that dad was going to walk through that door any minute. Only he didn't, I was still completely and utterly alone. There was no-one left but myself in this cruel world. I can't believe that I was happy. Stupid tournament. I should have known good things don't last. With something good, bad always follows like a cloud that passes over the sun, blocking out all light and leaving you in the dark.
"You must understand that we have phoned your Aunt to come and collect you for the meantime. We need the beds and your Aunt willingly offered to take care of you until some of the finality's can be arranged. She is your next of kin anyway, and under the dire circumstances kind enough to help."
I tried my best to not let a sound utter its way from my lips, he didn't need to know how much I was suffering or the guilt that I felt over causing the death of my father. I refused to make things more difficult then they already were. With a nod of my head I signalled that I was listening and had understood. I was to be shipped off to my Aunts....
A single tear slid down my cheek, joining with the pool that had soaked into my pillow.