Raven (NOT EDITED)

+ 5 Its all to Strange +

I gasp for breath trying to calm my racing heart. My red cheeks puff and pull in oxygen.

Sweat trickles into my brow and down my back. My clothes already damp with the smelly liquid.

Over and over my fist pound the same pattern into the punching sack.

Left left right left right right upper cut right

The bag wildly swings back and forth, the hinges supporting get it creaking from the movement. Dried and wet blood is mixed with the sweat. Combining a stinkier liquid.

My knuckles are taped and still bleeding. I've been punching for hours. Back and forth, a stress reliever.

I have an hour before we play in the games. I still haven't learnt much. The training I had to do was useless.

They showed me the stances and motions then set me up with a punching bag, they haven't been able to pull me off of it yet.

Once I started punching I couldn't stop, I didn't realize all the anger that had built up inside me.

They said tomorrow's training I will actually do something. I'm supposed to fight someone actually.

I was confused, half these people had special abilities. Shape shifting, strength, speed, one can shift into air, and even hypnotism.

I was just normal. I mean if you can call normal being how demons chase after you demanding to know this Raven kids whereabouts.

Very normal.

A rip is heard, but I continue punching, blocking it out.

More ripping sounds continue, until the bag falls from its hinge, flat onto the ground. A plume of dust and dirt shoot up from its impact.

I cough and look up at what supported the bag.

The cloth holding it had ripped off, worn down from my constant punching.

Taking this as a cue to take a break, I slowly walk to my shared room.

Amelia was gone, she had other training to do. I'm a newbie, I don't have anything other then training for an hour and games.

I pick out the only clothing I can wear, they provided a black fit top and also black tight bottoms. I was supposed to go for a fitting before the games started, so that I could get a uniform.

I check the schedule on the wall before making my way to the small bathroom.

I had a fitting in twenty minutes. I'm supposed to be shiny clean before then, I eye my sweaty and bloody broken self in the mirror. Like that's gonna happen, twenty minutes to look good? A voice scoffs in my head.

I ignore it and start to peel the clothes off of my body.

The shower water was a decent temperature. Blood and dirt washed down the drain.

My tattooed tag still stung, but my wounds from before didn't hurt.

I stepped out of the shower, and dried off. My hair still cloning to my face, black clumps of hair shooting out the sides.