I swing my sword around landing it straight on Blake’s two knives. He pushes me up and I grunt as he hits my chin. I taste the blood from inside my cheek and growl. “You’ll pay for that!” I screech charging towards him. I swing my sword up but he deflects it with his knife. He grunts before pushing me off him.
“Come on Kimberley, we’ve been through this before,” He grins, “I win some and you . . . lose some.” He smirks. I lift one side of my lip up and put my sword away. I go to the weapons station and choose a bow and its matching arrows. I load the bow pull it back to my cheek and aim for Blake who is surprised and jumps out of the way before the training arrow can reach him.
“No fair, we said nothing that shoots!” He says getting up. I put the bow down and decide to go with my knives. I pull them out and swing them around myself.
Blake tries to deflect with his own knives but I’m too quick. He leaps out of the way of a swipe and takes out a hatchet. “Hasta LA vista!” He says in an accent.
“Bus two is here, all kids who are on bus two report to the front for loading.” The speaker sounded. Blake sighs and throws his hatchet to the side. Saved by the bell. “Well, I guess we’ll have to finish tonight?”
“Guess so,” I say slapping my arms against my sides my. We both laugh and he pushes me out of the way to get his bag. I grab mine which is next to his and we both run out of the room.
Both of us race to the front, and, of course, he wins. I was built for strength, Blake is quick and agile. “Beat you again.” He says cracking his knuckles. He wears a plain, dark red T-shirt with blue-jeans. He also wears a black coat to keep warm on this freezing Thursday.
I wear a long sleeved blue, plaid shirt with blue-jeans and brown combat boots. I wear a black zip up sweater that says 2039 on it in white letters over top of my shirt.
I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him. “So, I will beat you one day.” I reassure him.
“Oh yah, like you said when I beat you in how many fights?” He puts his hand up to his ear waiting for me to respond. Instead I take his head and wrap my arm around it in a head lock. He struggles to get free but I keep my arm wrapped around him and we both start laughing as he tries to pry my arm off him. “Get off!” He complains.
“Oh, and what did you just say?” I ask him still laughing as we wait for the bus to pull up. I soon release him. He gasps for air, “Okay, okay. We both have won in fights.” I grin and pull at a nail on my finger.
“What have you guys done to each other this time?” We turn and see Jason, his seventeen year old self. He wears a simple black T-shirt with a Michigan sweatshirt. He has on Blue jeans and Nike tennis shoes. He carries his phone listening to music with one headphone in. He’s about five eight, same height as Blake only maybe a little taller. I’m only five four.
“She tried to choke to my own death.” He answers pointing at me. I push his hand out of the way. “I wouldn’t kill you that would make me a terrible cousin.” I say making the tone in my voice should sweet and innocent.
“Yah, sure you wouldn’t, if I ever turned evil,” he turns to Jason who has his arms crossed, “Which I won’t, would you kill me then.”
“Let me think, if I had to . . . ,” that is a tough question. Would I kill my own cousin if he really did turn to a Union? I sigh, “No, I couldn’t kill you.”
“How can you say that?” Jason says walking to the edge of the curb where the bus pulls up to meet the kids waiting.
“How can I say what, Jason?” I ask sternly coming up next to him. Blake goes on the other side of him and we wait together.
“If you can’t even kill your own cousin, who you’ve only met about five years ago, how are you supposed to be able to kill your own dad?” He questions.
“That’s-that’s different.” I stutter on the words.
“How?” Jason demands turning towards me. “How is it different?”
“Because he killed my mom, he’s the true monster!” I spat. Jason just shrugs.
“So if Blake killed someone in our family, you would kill him?” He asks me changing the song on his iPod. I grit my teeth but don’t respond. I could kill Blake, but I won’t. Then it hits me what Jason is trying to say. I used to look up to my father, he was my hero. Now all I can think of doing is killing him for what he did to our family. Could I really do it, am I that strong? The scars on my lower wrist start to mentally burn. I clutch my hand to make it stop. No, not yet, but when the time comes when I have to be, I will be.
The bus pulls up when I conclude my thought. I shake it away and follow the kids before us onto the bus. I walk back looking for a seat. Many are already taken by the kids who got on the bus before it came here.
I find an empty seat in the back and squeeze into it taking my backpack off as I sit down. The bus doors close and it drives off. I stare out the window not knowing what to do for the next fifteen minutes. I sigh and put my earphones in connecting to my phone. I click a song. It’s about how someone couldn’t save their friends life. And their friend took their life because they thought they weren’t good enough for the world. The song is called what could I have done. I listen to the words as they play and think of my mom how I did nothing to save her life. I choke back a sob.
“Ah, is little Kimmy going to cry today?” I feel my whole body burn up instantly in anger. I narrow my eyes and slide closer to the isle. I look behind me and see Damien, on the other side of the buss one seat down from me, making a pouting face pretending to wipe tears from his eyes.
“I could say the same for you, when I pound you in the face, with my fist!” I clutch my hand showing it to him.
“Uh, Kimberley just threatened to hurt me!” He yells up to the bus driver. Luckily, he could care less of what the kids do in the back. All he’s getting paid for is driving them to school and back.
“Looks like you’re going to have to take this one yourself!” I grunt raising my arm back when someone grabs my wrist and twists it backwards. I screech. I turn around to see Jason looking at me sternly. I pull my hand away and rub my wrist. I breathe deeply looking up at him then turn my gaze to Damien. I want to punch him right now, badly. I want to pound him, but that would be unfair. One cause we’re in a bus and two . . . he would have no chance against me.
“Kids please take your seats,” the bus driver says on the speakers. I look up at Jason again. He crosses his arms and cocks and eyebrow. I huff angrily and take my seat again. I realize, when I sit down, everyone on the bus was watching us. Jason sits a seat up from me and looks back at me, but I don’t return the gaze.
“Wow, that’s pathetic. Kimberley, having her older cousin come to help her?” I hear muttering in the back of the bus. I pull my knees up to my chest sticking my finger nails into my arms, stopping me from pounding Damien.
I warp my arms around my knees and stare outside when I feel something in my boot. I put my hand on it. I freeze, I forgot to take out one of my knives when I was training with Blake. I can’t take it out now, people will see. I just won’t take it out at school, easy enough, and I will try to cross my legs when I sit to hide it a little. Or I’ll put it in my locker when I get to school.