Here Comes A Fighter (GirlxGirl)

Here Comes A Fighter (2)

Shellys POV 

. oh lord dear god, think Shelly think. What to say. Oh gosh I probably look like an idiot right now just standing here with my mouth open.

“Umm no sorry” I said and scurried away

What the hell is wrong with me!? I’m usually cool, calm and collected when it comes to women. I was never the type to run away from anything. There’s just something about her when she had me under that cold calculating gaze I couldn’t think clearly, it was a struggle for me to even move my mouth. Dammit. All right deep breath in, exhale it all out.  

This was a challenge. That’s all, nothing I’m not used to, nothing I can’t conquer. This woman had just turned into another goal on my list.  I went over to the punching bag and started doing what I did best and after the first few minutes I lost myself in a flurry of angry kicks and punches.  

After I was done I went out in search of the mystery woman only to see near nor hide of her. Shed left. Tomorrows another day I guess. I trudged my way back to my crappy apartment and flopped down on the springy mattress. I hated this place, I tried to stay out as much as possible. Me and my mother were always together and a little on the poor side, so when she god diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 16 I did everything in my power to get money to pay for her treatment.  

She was all I had, my father was someone I never knew. I had started training in MMA from the little dojo up my block and the sensei agreed to teach me for free when I was 13 once he heard my financial situation, and he saw I had a lot of potential. After about 3 years of training I was a red belt, I was proud of myself but my mother was getting sicker, I needed to pay for her therapy and her job as a waitress definitely wasn’t paying the hospital bills. This is when I started street fighting, I was a 16 year old girl who had only had 3 years of fighting training going up against big bulky men. Needless to say I didn’t win very much.

 I kept trying and I kept getting better, after getting beat up so many times I learned how to analyze my opponent. I could see when the muscles coiled up in their arms and legs telling me what limb they were going to use next. I also learned to target weaknesses by simply looking at them men, seeing what side they favored, what spots they left open. I attacked those. By 17 I was making about 600-1500 a fight and paying for moms therapy. She passed away a few months after i started fighting. The foster care system is no fun place. I only had to stay there for about year and I was out, all alone, by myself. I got a job at the dojo I was taught at and that was just enough to make rent and buy groceries. I still fight sometimes when I need to, which is often.

After work the next day, I went to the gym as usual. There she was. Only this time she was on the bag, MY bag. She was throwing punches left and right with perfect precision. Her back leg always came up on her cross, her hips always turned on her hooks, her heel always turned towards the bag on her round kick. Wow. If I didn’t know any better Id say she topped me. Yeah right. This was my element, and I was not going to let her sabotage my workout!  I walked up to her and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

“You wouldn’t mind sharing a bag would you?”

She simply shook her head. And that’s how we started. Kicks and punches started slamming down hard on the bag for a solid of hour neither of us willing to quit and give the other the satisfaction. When we were done we both bent over on our knees panting, trying to regulate our breathing. Then she did something that sent tingles throughout my whole entire body. She turned to me and she….smiled.