hit so hard you see the stars
Jun 9, 2014 8:46:19 GMT -5
Post by Axelle Flint on Jun 9, 2014 8:46:19 GMT -5
Axelle carefully went through her pre-boxing ritual. She changed into her clothes, pulled her hair back and sat down to carefully wrap her hands the way she'd been taught when she first started training. In front of her the punching bag hung still, it was heavy. Heavy enough that Axelle could hit it as hard as she wanted and it would only swing a little. The trainers wouldn't tell her how heavy it really was, probably because they didn't want her to try and surpass it as a goal.
Because she would.
After she finished her methodical wrapping for both her hands she pulled on her gloves, one of the most expensive things she owned and stood up. She was alone today because all she had wanted to do was hit something. She was restless, she was getting antsy and angry, she wanted to let go and use that strength she had to keep under control almost twenty-four seven. She knew why...she'd broken yet another glass. Her grandfather had helped her clean it up and even though she KNEW he wasn't angry there had been that look on his face as if wondering why she couldn't control herself. He KNEW it was an accident, but one accident too many and it starts looking like something on purpose.
She hated it.
Taking a deep breath, she did a set of several warm up punches and then approached the bag. This was safe, this was okay...shaking herself out she began to hit the bag, grunting with the effort it was taking to even more it that small fraction. Usually it made her feel good, like she was safe, this was her stopping point, she could go has hard as she wanted and she wouldn't hurt anyone.
Today it just made her angry. She kept hitting, grunting with the effort, soft puffs of breath turning into ragged pants as she kept hitting, even though her arms were screaming. She was still angry, still upset, still frustrated...having hit a wall, almost literally, Axelle did the only thing she could think of that was in her power left to do.
She SCREAMED.
Because she would.
After she finished her methodical wrapping for both her hands she pulled on her gloves, one of the most expensive things she owned and stood up. She was alone today because all she had wanted to do was hit something. She was restless, she was getting antsy and angry, she wanted to let go and use that strength she had to keep under control almost twenty-four seven. She knew why...she'd broken yet another glass. Her grandfather had helped her clean it up and even though she KNEW he wasn't angry there had been that look on his face as if wondering why she couldn't control herself. He KNEW it was an accident, but one accident too many and it starts looking like something on purpose.
She hated it.
Taking a deep breath, she did a set of several warm up punches and then approached the bag. This was safe, this was okay...shaking herself out she began to hit the bag, grunting with the effort it was taking to even more it that small fraction. Usually it made her feel good, like she was safe, this was her stopping point, she could go has hard as she wanted and she wouldn't hurt anyone.
Today it just made her angry. She kept hitting, grunting with the effort, soft puffs of breath turning into ragged pants as she kept hitting, even though her arms were screaming. She was still angry, still upset, still frustrated...having hit a wall, almost literally, Axelle did the only thing she could think of that was in her power left to do.
She SCREAMED.