Boxing Academy

Chapter 1

I ignore people.

I try my best to.

But its like a mosquito bite, no matter how much you try to ignore its itch, you itch it eventually. People are like mosquitoes. Annoying little insects that try to suck the life out of you. They fly around you trying to find a weak spot and take what ever they need until they've had their fill and leave. Until they want more.

You can't ignore mosquitoes.

Just like you cant ignore people.

I stood still, arms lazily holding onto each other as I stared at the ground in front of me. The grass was long, uncut and unkept for a neighborhood as nice as this one. There were little white clovers growing out and you could see where some were squished under peoples weight. Right now a girls shoes were stomping on them out of anger as she yelled and moved her arms around, balling her fists and directing a very well done blue acrylic nail. I looked at her shoes, examining the little smudge of dirt on the tip of them and saw how worn her write Vans were. Then i went to her ripped washed out jeans and her uniform shirt that had our schools logo on her left collar bone.

Her mouth was moving, yelling at me, calling me who knows what and accusing me of a rather long list I had long forgotten. I was bored. I hated talking. I hated having the crowd around me because they heard the angry high pitched tone the girl continuously threw at me for the past 10 minutes. I hated the underlining need of attention this girl, or any girl, needed, she was here to waste my time. She announced to anyone who would pay attention that she was going to beat me into next week and run me out of town. How desperate for attention did you need to be to put your business out for all to hear? I could never understand that.

She kept yelling, waving and pointing her finger at me as i just stood there. Bored. Until she flipped her unnecessarily long black hair over her shoulder and pushed me. See i can take yelling. I can take obnoxiously loud over dramatic girls making drama manifest itself out of nothing, but touching? But touching me? Pushing me? I can't handle that. It's like a switch. I can be calm and collected, until I'm not. She does a little smirk and glances at her friends that are stilling yelling for her to punch me but i beat her to it. My fist smashes into her jaw line, turning her head and forcing the rest of her body to follow.

She falls onto the uncut grass, eyes slightly closed as she struggled to pull her arms from under her and push her upright. Her friends start surrounding her, and through the 'oh my god's and the 'holy shits' I make my way out of the crowd. She's now out cold, easy. I pull my throbbing fist into my pants pocket and make my way towards home, staying any longer would mean I cared enough to see if she was ok or act as if maybe I didn't mean to knock her out cold. Only, that's exactly what i was trying to do.

Hitting girls who were all too keen on pulling chunks of your hair out was too easy for me. None of them could ever land a hit right. And if they did it was a lucky one they had improvised. I was too good at hitting. With a slight angled fist and a perfectly placed jab, you could knock out even the largest of guys. The only problem was getting close to them, but when it came to a girl about the same size as me who barely knew how to evade a punch, they were no match. I could care less about the after math, though it would mostly consist of others trying to pick another fight with me because I had taken it 'too far'. In reality I had just saved a bunch of time. Not that I was a busy person but my mom was expecting me in 20 minutes and if I was late I would receive yet another warning of being shipped off to a military school.

I've heard it so many times I had stopped believing her but recently I started to see tabs on her computer that gave endless information on how to control an out of control teenager. It's not that I looked for trouble everywhere I went. It's more of how trouble always found me. Somehow someone would always find a flaw in me they didn't like and would then decide that I was enough to gain their hatred. People seemed to never like me.