Father finally got me my first contract. He said it took some time but he wanted to surprise me with it. Good thing too, because I wasn’t’t having a good day from what I remember.
I’ve been working as a bartender to pay for my last year of college. A couple of drunk men, thought it would have been a great idea to start getting frisky. Thanks to Ava I had been able to develop a proper feminine side to myself. But many people don’t know that I have been boxing since I was fifteen. Stepping away from the bar, a hand had grasped the back of my thigh. I pushed away their hands, ignoring the anger bubbling up in me. However it only provoke the drunk guy to grab at me more aggressively. I had grab his hand, and twisted it into an uncomfortable position.
“I will personally throw you out myself, if you don’t keep your hands to yourself” I warned him. Pulling his arm away he looked the other way, embarrassed to be handled by a girl. I was on a very thin line with the bar. Since I don’t let myself get mistreated, I usually ended up fighting with the customers. So I had to be on good behavior, other wise I would have thrown him to the floor.
“Your fight is in a month, so we are going to start training you to fight against who they have set you up with” he explained as he showed me the contract. “Seriously!” I scream out in excitement. I was already of thinking of packing my bag and hitting the boxing gym to practice. “Tomorrow morning we can start” he explains already sensing that I was ready to run to the gym if I needed to. “The gym won’t close for couple of hours, I can start training now” I tried to explain while avoiding my other reason for wanting to hit the gym and release my stress.
“Not tonight, go get your gun, we are going to practice your aim” he told me. “I really rather just go to the gym” I said a bit more aggressively. His mood shifted at the tone of my voice. “Get your gun” He ordered me, but I didn’t’t understand why he would want to focus on shooting instead of fighting.
“No” I insisted, I had found a good way to let out my anger and it was something I really needed at the moment. “Susan, I am not saying it again” he warned me. Warned Me. I was still treated roughly, unlike Ava. I always had to be father’s little soldier. After our incident a few years back she no longer had to practice her shooting, but I was still forced to go. “Then don’t, I am going to the gym” I spit back.
I hated talking to him like that, but sometimes I react before thinking. I only made my way halfway to the door before he yanked me inside again.
My thoughts went back to my first night here, and it felt so wrong. I was no longer that girl, so why was I still treated like this. Grabbing his wrist, I twisted it behind him in an effort to push him down. He still had the upper hand on me, and soon had me pin down to the floor. “Don’t you ever raise your hands at me again!” he yelled at me as if I was actually a soldier and not his daughter.
“Get off of me!” I screamed back, tears appearing in the corner of my eyes. Mother had run down the stairs to check what was going on. As we made eye contact with her, he slowly released me. Getting up I stretch out my arm, trying to relax it. My breathing was heavy as I tried to calm myself down. Everything in me was telling me to throw myself at him and give him a good beating. “You started it” I accused. His eyes narrowed down on me as if I just threw him in a bigger heap of trouble.
Mother motions for him to follower her upstairs. Thirty minutes later, he had come back down stairs. My gun in his hand, and mother right behind him. He motioned for me to follow him outside.
Still grumbling about his recent behavior I followed him still trying to calm myself down. Mother held me back for a second. “He didn’t’t mean to push it that far, he is regretting it” she whispered to my softly. “You’re his tough girl, don’t think it because he doesn’t’t love you. He isn’t always right, but he does love you” she said, hugging me before pushing me outside to follow him.
The next morning we were once again on better terms. He had taught me how to control emotions, to be patient and handle disappointment. Took us almost four hours to catch a damn rabbit, and it got away.
He had schedule for me to fight someone for another gym. It only made sense since I was already one of the best in the gym. Getting into the ring after warming myself up, the fight started. I tried to be as serious as I could be, his punches weren’t much stronger than mine. But speed was way faster than what I expected.
I lasted thirty seconds the first round before he manage to pin me down. Angry I get up putting more force into my punches the second round. I only ended up exhausting myself. Falling to the floor I try to steady my breathing. Completely forgetting he was so close, his punch caused a gash on the right side of eyebrow, blood blinding me. The second hit caused me to bite my lip, busting it open. I fell back and he was on top of me trying to pin me down again.
“Fight!” I heard my father screaming at me from outside the ring. The fight had caused a crowd to gather. I tried to pull away but couldn’t get out of the grip fast enough. One more round, but he obviously the winner by then.
Approaching my father, he handed me a rag cleaning the mess my face was. Grabbing my face he look at me with all the seriousness he could muster. “Are you weak Susan?” He asked me in his most serious tone. Pulling away from his gaze, I still felt slightly dizzy from the hit’s.
“Even if I win this round, he pretty much won the fight already.” I mumbled. “That’s not what I ask” he says forcing me to look at him. “Are you weak?” he repeated himself more insistently. “No” I say shaking my head. “Then get up and fight” he told me. Forcing me back into the ring
The third round was the hardest. My body was aching and equally exhausted, but something in me, had me willing to put everything in it. I fell twice and fought hard to stand up. With some sort of luck I had won the third round. The second I had pin him down, he had tapped out. He was out of breath and visibly exhausted. Getting up I shook his hand, and made my way off the ring.
It wasn’t until I made my way back to the locker room did I stop to punch one of the lockers. “Susan!” Father called out to me. Sitting on one of the benches, I pulled my head between my legs, wallowing in embarrassment. “Hey, what’s wrong you did good? He said standing next to me.
“Good?” I scoffed, “I had my ass handed to me out there, if I can’t take on someone my level, how am I supposed to win in an actually match!” I yelled. Tears were ready to fall as I bit my cheek in hopes of distracting myself. Father still had something of a smirk on his face.
“If this is some game to you, I’m not playing” I cried out my voice cracked.
“Susan, that guy wasn’t on the same level as you, he had been a few matches already” he explained. That only made me feel more angry. “So what, you purposely wanted to embarrassed me”
“No, look” he says explaining to me. “Yes, I wanted you to understand the chance of always losing, the last time you had lost in a ring, was a years ago. You can’t let yourself get cocky” he said. “You have weird ways of teaching me shit” I mumble walking away from there. I needed to get out of there and breath.
Mother was wrong, he didn’t’t care. I’m just a puppet to him. Always pushing me, only to shove in my face I wasn’t good enough. Jumping on my bike I hit the road back home.
Little did I know with that fight, I actually trained harder, became more modest and stayed alert, learning to deal with disappointment. When the time for my match showed up, I actually won with ease. Father had made me trained with guys that were already experienced, forcing me to learn faster, under more aggressive circumstance. It got results and I begin to officially trust him.