"Kayla! Kayla! Kayla!" The crowd called my name as I smashed my fist into her face. They cheered again as my other hand connected with the girl's stomach. The shouting got louder as she stumbled. I took the opportunity of her weakness to pounce on her.
I straddled her and she yelled in defiance, trying to hit me. But her punches were weak.
"You can do better than that," I told her, smirking. She glared at me from behind a thin film of tears. "Bitch," she hissed.
I rolled my eyes at her and she spat at me.
Personally, I didn't mind, but the crowd started throwing insults at her. Offending their star fighter was a capital crime.
In return for the spit splattered on my cheek, I sent another punch to her abdomen. She gasped as the wind got knocked out of her. Seizing the opportunity with her guard down, I rained her with blows -- her nose, eye, stomach, chest, neck and everywhere else possible.
She made a feeble attempt to block the assault with her arms, but the pain was too much. Her arms went limp and before our eyes, she blacked out.
I stood up and gave the body a light kick. There was no sign of her still conscious. That was fast.
People moved in to remove the body as the announcer climbed into the ring and lifted my arm up in a sign of victory. "Kayla Michaels!" In response, the crowd went wild.
They chanted my name and it felt like heaven to my ears. Even as I exited the ring, the calls of my name echoed in my head.
Girls glared openly at me as guys tried to get my attention. I was the star of the night. Everyone wanted to get close to me.
Vendetta smiled at me as I walked through the black curtains to something like a backstage, and towards her. "You did awesome." She proceeded to hug me when she stopped and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You stink!"
I gave her the 'duh' look and she pushed me towards the shower room. "Go take a bath. You smell worse than a dead skunk."
I lunged playfully at her and she yelped as she stepped back and fell on her butt. I pretended to lose my footing and fell on top of her.
She squeaked in surprise and tried to shove me off.
"Get off!" She grunted, attempting to lift me off her but stopped when I started tickling her. She squealed, and giggled, so unlike her usual badass self. "Stop!" She gasped breathlessly. "Stop!" I made her beg a little more before standing up, laughing. She scowled at me after catching her breath. "Now you've spread your stinkiness to me."
I shook my head and chuckled. "There is no such word as 'stinkiness'," I informed her. "Yeah, whatever." She stuck out her tongue at me.
"Admit it. You suck." I jabbed her in her side, grinning.
She jerked away from me. "Just because you're my best friend, it doesn't mean I won't kill you." Then she proceeded to hit me upside the head. Since I was expecting that, I ducked. "See if you can catch me!" I ran down the corridor laughing and she followed, yelling, "You're so dead Michaels!"
I smiled to myself. She wouldn't be able to 'kill' me even if she could catch me. But it'd be amusing to see her try.
The hot water beat down on my bare back. I tilted my head back and let the it engulf me. In the silence of the shower room with only the sound of running water, it was peaceful. It felt like warmth. So close to love, care -- My eyes snapped open in the realisation of those unconscious thoughts. The water stung them so I shut it off. Without the absence of the warmth of the water, cold seeped in, as quiet and subtle as death. But its effects were not subtle.
I shivered.
It felt like cold fingers were trying to snatch the warmth away, like how death stole --
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the thoughts and the tears that were ready to spill.
Not again. I told myself. Hold back. Contain.
I tried to bring back the memory of my victory that day, the image of the crowd, the girl I fought, ... But none of them worked. Her face just kept reappearing in my head. Her beautiful smile, her chocolate brown hair, those sad eyes that reflected her broken heart, the way she smiled wistfully like she'd seen better days. I couldn't get those memories out. No matter how many fights I participated in and won, the pain and anger never dulled.
I screamed in frustration and kicked the wall, stubbing my toe in the process. I punched it and I felt the skin on my knuckles split.
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, the anger taking away the cold.
Those memories threatened to choke me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to ease the internal torture with deep breaths. I growled as the calming method took no effect. "Just stop it," I grilled out with gritted teeth as something thick which I recognised as boiling emotions, tried to force its way up my gullet.
I sank to the ground, trembling not because of the temperature, but because of the uncontainable pent up emotions I couldn't bury.
Part of my mind that was still able to function sensibly made me dry myself, put on my clothes and led my legs to the door. I walked out, body trembling under pressure of holding the tears back, and headed towards the gym.
There was nobody there which must have been because it was already reaching midnight.
It was there where I was free to let loose.
I vent all my negative feelings on the punching bag, letting the tears stream down. I barely felt the pain when I bruised and injured myself while beating up the punching bag. I channelled everything towards my limbs and kicked with all my strength then followed with a fist. I pretended that the bag before me was the person I wanted nothing more but to kill, and I lashed out at it harder than ever.
I couldn't remember how I ended up on the floor, hugging my knees and crying to Vendetta.
"Just let it all out," she whispered, and I did. I spilled out my life story, though she already knew it. Between sobs, I told her how angry I was with my good-for-nothing father, how much I hated the man who took my mother's life, how much hurt there was being all alone, without anyone who loved me, and finally, how much I hated my life.
"Shhh," she shushed me. "You know I love you. You know that there are people who care about you."
She faltered when I looked up and glared at her. "Besides you," I hiccupped. "Who else cares?" She was silent for a moment so I knew she couldn't find a valid argument for that.
"See?" I choked, but not because of the tears. "No one would be able to lo --"
"Don't you ever believe that," She growled, cutting me off. "Don't ever say that no one can ever love you, or us." Her dark eyes cut into mine and I could see unshed tears in them. "We just went through shit and did wrong things. It doesn't mean we're bad, right?" But it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
I scoffed. "We did things worse than bad in the eyes of the law. We did illegal things. I've got a feeling that giving the excuse of going through shit won't get us out of trouble." She nodded, so I knew she wasn't listening to me.
I sighed and moved my hand to wipe away some of the teardrops sliding down her pale cheeks. "When life gives you lemons. . . You might as well shove 'em where the sun don't shine, because you sure as hell ain't ever going to see any lemonade." She laughed and I smiled. "Good to see you smile."
"Inspirational quotes huh?" She looked at me, a goofy grin replacing her previous expression. I never giggled, however that time was an exception. Must be the previous anger getting to my head.
"It's better to be angry than sad."
My smile dropped.
"What?" She asked, daring me to argue. When I didn't reply, she continued. "Never let this damn world get to you. If you feel like crying, then turn it into anger. It's better than letting people see you cry, isn't it?" I found myself nodding. "Don't show them your weakness, then nothing will go wrong."
I knew she was simply stating something we'd learnt from past experiences, but there seemed to be something deeper to it.
There was a moment of silence before I decided to lighten the mood. I ruffled her hair. "That's my girl. So deep."
She smacked my hand away playfully. "You're a year younger than me, so you've no rights to call me your girl."
I grinned at her. "See? Smiling is easy."
She wiped away her tears and rolled her eyes at me. "You're so lame." We burst out laughing, not because it was funny, but because we were glad that even if the world didn't want us, we had at least each another to lean back on.
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Thanks for reading! I hope it's nice. ( But it's still unedited :/ )
Please comment, vote. Thx! :)