Loving the Fighter

61

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I knew my arm was broken the second I hit the ground but that didn't seem to stop the boy I was fighting.

My arm screamed in agony as the kid crawled on top of me. My good hand went to block my face as I curled up in a ball, trying to protect the arm that I couldn't move.

My legs kicked out on instinct but it didn't help me win the fight but it was enough to keep him away from me as the countdown ended which made him the winner by default.

The crowd erupted in cheers and curses while I lay there on the cold ground trying to calm my nerves.

I had lost fights before and while my dad hadn't liked it, he understood it happened from time to time. With that in mind I pushed myself off the ground with my good arm and walked over to my dad. An unreadable expression covered his face when I stood beside him but he said nothing as he walked to the car, expecting me to follow.

The car ride was silent but awkward. I kept waiting for him to start nagging on about keeping my hands up or how much money it was going to take to fix my arm but nothing was said until we pulled into the driveway.

"Aren't we going to the hospital?" I asked as my dad got out of the car.

"Why would we go there?" he grumbled as he walked into the house.

"Because there's something wrong with my arm," I stated as if it were obvious. "That's kinda the whole reason I lost tonight."

"No, you lost because you are too lazy to get out there and practice. You would go to school or be in your room all day than practice so you can help out around here. You think I can afford to send you to the hospital when you won't be able to fight for a few weeks?"

"So you would rather I sit here without going to a hospital, hope it doesn't heal the wrong way, and go back to fighting in three weeks?" I asked in a condescending voice, which only made my father angrier.

"No Jaxon," his voice was too calm given his body language. "I would rather you still be fighting right now instead of sitting here acting like a spoiled brat." He voice grew louder with every word; he's never acted like this before.

"If I hadn't been there in the first place none of this would have happened! I could have helped get money some other way!"

"You asked for this!" He reminded me, his eyes showed nothing but hate as he snarled at me. "You were the one who wanted to start all of this and now that I'm trying to help you get better and get more money to put you through college you want to blame me?"

"I never asked for you to send me to college and I never asked to get better! I only do this because you drag me down there every other week like some sort of sick machine!"

My father goes silent as he stalks towards me.

I had never been afraid of my father, not like this at least. Nothing but rage filled his eyes, his jaw was clenched and his fists were balled up. Everything about him screamed 'threat'.

I was on the ground before I was able to piece together what had happened. Pain erupted from my temple and for a moment I couldn't see or hear anything.

"You ungrateful brat!" I curled into a ball, my hurt arm in the center while my other tried to shield my face from any more damage. "I've never asked you to do anything you didn't want to do and now that I need a little help around here, you treat me like the bad guy?" His breath was ragged like he was out of breath but he seemed to be just getting started.