His Red Rose

v

. . .

I finally made it home to be greeted with the most mouth watering smell ever. The guard has put my bags in my room so I headed straight for the kitchen.

When I arrived at the kitchen I see xavior cooking and singing along to the blasting music. I stand there leaning on the door, silently laughing until he noticed me. His eyes widen and quickly tried to turn of the 'Taylor Swift' blasting through the speakers.

I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach while he just sends me a playful glare.

"don't u dare tell anyone about this"

" I don't know, xavy. " I pretend to think for a bit, while xavior throw me a fake glare.

"so. What are you cooking "

" lasagna, I'll be ready in 30 mins "

"okay. Do u guys have a gym"

" yeah. It's on the 12th floor "

I nodded and headed up stairs. I grabbed my sgey sports bar, with a black skin tight shirt and grey leggings. All my tattoos are covered except my rib tattoo. I didn't bother to cover it cause I don't think anyone would be there.

I grabbed my black wraps, my head phones and a water bottle . Once I got everything I needed i made my way to the elevator, pressing the 12 button.

As I wait for the elevator, I wander if my brothers would remember me, or what they even look like. They would definitely remember considered they they were older than me. I can remember what they look like before but it's been 12 years so they probably changed alot.

I, for one, have changed alot. I have grown taller, and I'm rather more muscular than other girls. I mean it's probably the upside of all the fights.

My thoughts were broken from the sound of the elevator door opening.

I stepped out to a large luxuries room filled with gym equipment.

I set my things down on the seats on the side of the room and stared wrapping my hands. I head toward the lined up punching bags and started hitting.

Fighting seems like my only option nowadays. Not much of an option more like a release. Something that feels normal. Something that at least connects me to my past. Something that helped me push past the loss and the pain.

Through the years I've learned to endure, and suppress the pain. Most people break under pressure, most crack went applied enough pain.

But I've learned to thrive during the hard times. I've learned to channel that pain and turn it into power. But sometimes I feel as though the anger inside of me overcomes all that.

The anger from the lost in my Life, the anger of betrayal the anger of tears that's left behind.

The anger that I keep bottled up and suppressed and deep inside would explode. And I'm sure that that's one thing I will not survive.

Because my biggest enemy have always been myself. Suppressing emotions and denying the pain has always been my answer. But I could never grow I can never leave it behind.

I'm not so sure if it's because I can't or I don't want to anymore.

Tiny white scars litter my knuckles, from the years of fighting. Yet they don't compare to the scars left behind from the ones I used to love. the ones I'll probably always love for the rest of my life, even tho they're not with me anymore.

Punch

Punch

Kick

Punch

Punch

Kick

A punch for him. A punch for my mom. A punch to everyone. A punch to the world I was agree at the world. Angry at him at my mom for leaving me.

I didn't even realize there was another person in the room until a deep voice spoke up.

"who are you? What are u doing in my gym "

I turned around to be faced with a tall man wearing basketball shorts and and sleeve less hoodie. He had messy beach blond hair that looked like he ran his fingers through. He had a sharp jaw line that was clenching un clenching from my lack of responds. I would recognize that face anywhere.

I smile slightly at the confused figure in front of me

"atom"