Dice [h.s.]

77

"Nobody is coming to save you, get up." -Unknown

-

My heart pounded fast in my ears as beads of sweat dripped down my forehead. I could feel sweat building up at the nape of my neck and the tip of my hairline.

My hand slammed against the punching bag, protected by only a bandage. Words that had angered me in the past played on loop through my conscious thoughts, I punch harder.

I heard no sounds, just my hands colliding with the bag. I silently gave myself commands from the back of my head, but I was barely listening. The commands slowly faded away as anger began to boil and escape through every punch.

Flashes of my mother, my father, Leonardo, blinded my eyes. I squeezed them shut as I kept punching, harder and harder. I couldn't really feel my hands, but I kept punching.

I bit down on my tongue as I opened my eyes. When I looked down, my hands were bleeding. Quickly, I stopped punching and stepped back. My hands were slowly beginning to be covered in blood.

"Shit." I whispered to myself as I rushed to the other side of the at home gym. I wrapped my hands in a towel and sat down on the chair in the corner of the room. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the disgusting thoughts running through my head.

"Kennedy?" I heard Harry yell from upstairs.

"Down here!" I yelled back. The basement door was open. I never even knew he had this at home gym, but now I nearly go every morning or night.

"I was looking for you." Harry came down the stairs and looked at me in the corner of the room.

"I got a little caught up punching." I held up my hands in the towel that was slowly being covered in blood.

"This happened yesterday too. What do you think about when you box?" Harry grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet beside the entrance and walked over to me.

Harry kneeled down in front of me in nothing but his pajama pants, something I see he has more of now. He ran his fingers through his hair as he opened the kit and looked at my hands.

"You know, the usual." I shrugged.

Harry shook his head and unwrapped my hands. Open wounds were bleeding from my knuckles. The bandages that were supposed to help my hands were wet and covered in red. Harry began to slowly unwrap my hands.

"I need to buy you gloves." Harry chuckled while disregarding the first bandage and moving to the next hand.

"I won't use them." I shrugged again.

"I know." Harry sighed.

Harry gently turned my hands over so my palms were resting on my thighs. Harry gently cleaned the cuts with an alcohol wipe. I wanted to react, but it didn't hurt that bad.

Harry applied some cream to the cuts then wrapped a bandage around both hands, covering the knuckles. He cleaned up his stuff and got up. He took the rag from under my hands and threw it over his shoulder.

"No boxing tomorrow." Harry rolled his eyes while holding his hand out for me to take.

"No promises." I took his hand and allowed him to help me up. I wiped my forearm across my forehead and followed him out of the basement.

"I mean it." Harry warned.

"Okay dad." I winked at him as he walked around the kitchen and I sat at the bartop. He tightened his jaw then poured a cup of scotch.