Straight through the Heart

Chapter 9

Save me.

This sucks.

I don't want to do this anymore.

Nooooooo.

I grit my teeth as I train. I huff as I dodge another knife she throws at me. 

"If you dodge one more time, then the next one will hit you." My mother threatens.

"You wouldn't." My mouth drops.

She smirks.

We are currently on day 2 of training. I am running on five hours of sleep. Day two started with my mother waking me up at the crack of dawn. I remember waking up in a start when a knife landed a couple feet from my face. It was a rude awakening. 

This part of the training is the hardest. We've been at it for three hours. I'm supposed to throw the knife straight at her knives to redirect the knives from my direction. If she was throwing one knife at a time, then I would be able to hit each knife she throws at me. However, she throws multiple at me. I am still not fast enough to throw at the speed and accuracy my mother throws. Thus, I dodge the knives I'm unable to knock down because I do not like the thought of knives in my flesh. 

"When I was your age, I could do this with two of your uncles throwing knives at me at top speed." My mother says as she throws four knives at me.

"I'm not like you." I huff as I knock down three knives but the fourth one grazes my left bicep as it shoots past me. I hiss in pain at the contact. I bandage my arm within a few seconds before my mother sends another round of knives at me.

"We haven't reached the hardest part of the training yet." My mother keeps challenging me. "You're doing well enough." 

"It's been three hours!" I'm beginning to get very impatient. Day one did not go any better than day two. She had me doing acrobatics and martial arts all day yesterday. In addition, I had to relearn and utilize my hunting, tracking, and reconnaissance skills. I haven't tapped into all these skills in a long time. 

I try to refocus once more as my mother continues throwing her knives at me. The short distraction slows down my reaction time to the point that a knife nicks my left thigh. A rip forms in my black bottoms along with a deeper cut. 

Fuck me. I wince and try to squeeze back the tears of pain in my eyes. 

"I'll give you time to rest and bandage that wound." My mother frowns worriedly as she glances at the cut. 

"Thanks mom," I sigh with a little bit of sarcasm leaking through my statement. I'm tired. I just want to go back to school and continue with my normal life. I never asked for people to target my life. 

I wrap a bandage around the wound before getting up again to train. "Must we continue with this part? I'm never going to be as skilled as you, or anyone in the family. I'm not born to fight like everyone." My feelings of frustration and exhaustion simmer beneath my skin. 

"Why do you think that?" My mother places the knives down and sits on the front bumper of the car. Motioning towards me, I come up and sit beside her.

"I may have been raised up to be able to defend myself, but I don't think I'm up for this challenge." I look to the clear blue sky above me, barely shrouded by the trees around me.

"You and dad by no means forced me into anything. You guys were good with letting me choose what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it. I just don't think i could actually make it out of this alive." 

"I understand where you're coming from." My mother pats my cheek before looking up at the sky. She looks far off in the distance as she reminisces to her younger days.