Girl Gone Bad (18+)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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Morgan's POV

I grunted as she right crossed me in the face. The crowd erupted into cheers, some encouraging me to keep going.

I could barely walk, let alone stay awake. It was late at night, and she was beating the crap out of me.

I haven't fought in a year. No practice. No training, nothing.

It was Kathryn. She always beated me. Every I time I went up against her, she would win. And I would lose. I always did.

"C'mon M!" My instructor, Tim encouraged.

"I-I can't." I whispered, spitting blood onto the concrete.

It was only 12:00 AM, and I was too tired to fight. I wanted to stop and tell Tim, but I would look weak in front of everyone, and ruin my reputation.

"Fuck!" I hissed as she kneed my stomach.

Reputation of Losing to her.

"You can do it M!"

No. I can't. It's impossible. She's a 9 year champion. I can't beat her. I never can, never will.

I give up.

A final hit in the jaw and I fell to the ground, begging for oxygen.

The crowd cheered, and Tim ran over to me, putting a cold washcloth onto my forehead.

I watched as the black haired girl with braids and a pink sports bra, Kathryn, High five her instructor.

I got angry, so angry that I didn't even realize I was stomping over to her, fists clenched tightly.

"I hate you!" I screamed in her face, as tears threatened to spill.

"You're only saying that because you lost, again." She smirked.

"You-You..." I tried to think of a good comeback before I embarrassed myself. "...You cheap version of Amy Winehouse!" I hissed, stepping closer to her.

"What are you gonna do? Hit me? The fight is already over, just accept the fact that I'll always win. And you'll always lose." She laughed wickedly, walking away.

I pulled one of her pigtails, bringing her onto the ground. She tried to get me off of her as I shook her head wildly, my fingers holding her hair tightly, screaming profanities.

"Morgan Stop!" Tim yelled, running over to us.

"Control your fighter!" Kathryn's instructor yelled.

"C'mon, M, let go. This is a bad look for you." Tim said lowly in my ear.

I looked up and saw that everyone was staring at us. No, they were staring at me.

I untangled my fingers from her hair, my face red from the amount of eyes on me.

"Crazy bitch." Kathryn murmured, touching her head as she walked away.

"You got beat up pretty bad, you sure you're okay?" Tim asked me, eyes filled with concern.

I nodded my head, "Yes, I just wanna go home." I whimpered, as tears gathered in my eyes.

"Let me drive you home, Kid." He said soothingly, rubbing my back.

I nodded, my head hung low as we walked to his car.

"Uhm...Crap I forgot our bags, I'm gonna go back inside to get. Wait here for me."

I was almost there when I heard a terribly familiar sound that scared me.

Sirens.

I saw as people who stayed to watch the fight, piled into their cars, speeding away.

Some people ran out of there, their legs moving fast after 2 giant steps.

I froze, not knowing what to do. I didn't have the keys to Tim's car, and I was not a fast runner.

I needed to think fast and I only thought to hide behind the corner of the fence.

The sound neared, and stopped as the red and blue lights shined against the wet concrete.

I quickly put my hand over my mouth, to stop myself from screaming as I heard footsteps approaching my direction.

Black shoes is all that I saw and closed my eyes tightly. I hadn't realized that I was crying, when I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

"Are you sure? I didn't see shit." A deep voice said.

"I'm sure." Another voice said.

There was silence until I heard them speak again.

"Well they sure as hell aren't here. Let's go." The footsteps faded away as I sighed in relief.

I climbed over the fence, my sore muscles aching as My feet landed on the ground lightly.

My bloody hands shook as I threw the hood of my black hoodie over my head.

I tip-toed towards the shortcut in the back that led to the downtown river.

But suddenly, I was tackled onto the ground, but stomach hitting the floor. Hard.

I coughed until blood came out. I struggled against the person's hold.

"What are you doing here this late at night?" A voice from above asked me.

"Jesus?" I asked eyes closed and tightly as my head pounded in pain.

"You must be really drunk." I looked up and saw a tall man, with blonde hair blue eyes.

I was lifted from the ground, and I hadn't noticed that my hands were behind my back, handcuffed.

"Wha-" I sighed. "I'm not drunk."

He raised both of his eyebrows, crossing his arms. "Really?"

"Yes! You can even test me." I said.

"Take her in." He said walking to the police car, getting inside.

The policeman behind me, harshly pushed me inside the backseat, nearly crushing my foot as he shut the door.

"What's wrong with you?!" I screamed. "I didn't do anything wrong! Tell me what I did wrong!"

"Well you see," He says, bringing his face closer to mine.

"We got some complaints about Illegal street fighting from the houses a few blocks from here. Something about 'People were cheering too loud'." He said driving.

"I was just-"

"I can tell by your black and blue bruises that you participated in this Illegal activity?" He turned his head to look at me.

I nodded my head, rolling my eyes. "Do your parents know about this?"

I shook my head frowning. I frowned from the memory of his words when I asked him if he even loved me.

No, I didn't.

"You're in alot of trouble, you know that right?"

"Yes, I do."

No, I'm in deep hell.