"She didn't need a sword or a crown made out of gold, but only roses and bare fists to take on the world."
"His smile. That's it. One flash of those eyes lighting up, and I'm gone."
...
Ever since I found out my mother who I thought was dead, was indeed alive.
And on the run because someone was after her life.
A few weeks ago, my friend Sam was admitted in toe hospital after a near-drowning incident, and her doctor who introduced herself as Dr Saadeh told my twin and I that my mother wasn't dead.
We denied it, and asked for proof.
And the one I got that still made my blood run cold.
We broke into a cemetery, dug out her coffin and found another body that wasn't hers. Along with the clothes we'd buried my mother in and a pendant.
The same one that rested on my chest, having no answers to why any of this was happening.
Dr Saadeh said she was working on something dangerous which sounded ridiculous to me. She was a chemist who worked with dangerous elements every day.
But she wasn't just talking about acids. It sounded worse.
And we didn't know what.
Well...I didn't. My brother thinks she abandoned us and washed his hands off the entire situation. And we're arguing about it.
The only thing we agreed on was not letting our dad or our younger brother; Jason, know about it. The lie was for the best.
My skin crawled at the thought because it'it waske a drug. The more you do it, the more addicted you become, slowly beebeingten up by guilt.
But that fades away too.
It's worse than cramps. Wait, scratch that, it's not. Those tight pains that render me immobile are on another fucking tier of their own. In fact-
"Jaz!"
My eyes came into focus once more, a little bit too late, the well-executed punch landing right on the cheek, the force sending my head to the side in a sharp turn, losing my balance altogether.
Fucking Eve.
"Shit," I swore, bringing my hand up to the injured flesh bruand shing at my long ponytail that rested at my shoulder away on instinct with a hiss. "That actually hurt."
No matter how used I am to the pain, it didn't make it any less jarring.
"Where's your head at White?" Coach Trey towered over me, his trim brows furrowed, the tell-tale vein protruding at the forehead. "I don't remember daydreaming being part of the principles of being a fighter."
"That's because it was recently added," I told him, flashing a quick smile that fell with a curse. "You should check the book."
He crossed his arms over the wide chest covered by a wife beater having the logo 'Beat It' emblazoned in red letters, and I caught sight of the downturn of his lips hidden by the large beard he sported.
"I did," he said sternly. "You wanna know why? Because I wrote the thing."
I wagged on one my taped fingers in front of his face.
"Nope. Your dad did," I corrected. "All you did was add your name in toe dedication. How is that even legal?"
"Because my father didn't sue." A brow came up following his words. "And you're not focusing on the subject."
Fuck. He noticed.
He shook his head and turned over his shoulder. "Take five Kane," he told my opponent before meeting my eyes again. "You need to pay attention, Jasmine." I bit down on my tongue to correct him on for calling my full name, not fond of the Disney princess.
I asked my mum why she named me after the frail girl instead of Mulan or Tiana who were brave. She just smiled and said, they were brave in their own way.
"You're a princess, Jaz," she would say. "Never forget that."
But I guess like all fairy tales that was a lie too.
"Or do you want to forfeit the belt?"
His words jarred me out of the haze, but stiffened at his words, my body going cold at the prospect of that ever happening.
The Championship matches for the UFC U-17 started in two weeks, stretching on for three months. People that won set their sights on going higher and eventually creating a name for themselves in the industry.
And I wanted mine to be in big bold letters.
The cash would also be nice.
I've been busting my ass and knuckles for this. Sacrificed sleep, and cut down my Supernatural viewings to taste victory.
Balling my fists up tight, I met Coach Trey's dark stare with my own, knowing that nothing would stop me from getting that trophy.
Not even the woman who had a trail of mysteries that I'd sworn to find.
"Coach," I started with a smirk, the pain ebbing away to something desirable, almost to the yearning for winning against the lone jewellery resting against my chest, reminding me of yet another thing I needed to do.
"That belt is mine."
My name is Jasmine White.
And this is my story.
🌹🌹🌹
Hello everyone. I hope we are all good.
So...the first chapter. How does it look?
For clarity's sake, the U-17 doesn't exist. I did extensive research on it. But the IMMAF (International Mixed Martial Arts Federation) does.
That's all from me on that. Tell me your thoughts here, please.
And as always, vote, comment and share. Take care.
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