7 comments/ 32051 views/ 17 favorites Fighting For Her Ch. 01 By: YoursTruly101 Hello again readers. I've been quite busy, but I've spent my little free time typing up stories. I've noticed that some of the stories in the site are about sex, sex, sex, and, oh, more sex. I know most people here seek these kinds of stories, but there are people like me who thinks everything is not necessarily about sex. Sure, I realized that this is a Lesbian Sex section, but I love stories that don't resolve around and focus in sex a lot. So, I came up with this story. So, if you're looking for a quickie or a lot of sex scenes, then this story is not for you. This focuses more on the emotions and conflicts within the main character . I do hope you like it and I'm thinking of making more chapters afterwards. Tell me what you think J -YoursTruly101 _________________________ Love. It's funny how one word can change your whole life around and can change a person. It can both break you and complete you. Sometimes at the same time. I punched the heavy punching bag harder and harder, beads of sweat running down my face. Panting, I did a round-kick, a jab, and a hook. You see, I'm not an emotional person; most people call me cold hearted or 'too rational' for their liking. I don't really care, it's just who I am. But I am not entirely robotic. I do have feelings, but do not act upon for the fear of being rejected. I don't do rejection. Then again, it feels like rejection, hatred, and sadness is the only emotions I feel. Faster, I thought, faster, harder. I kneed the bag twice and did a flying back fist. To each punch, I hissed through my teeth. Faster. It has been two years since the murder of my family. A murder I have seen through my eyes. First, he slashed my father's throat, butchered my younger sister, and raped my mother while I quietly stared through an open crack of a closet door. A Red gang member. The bastard. I remember silently sobbing in the close spaced closet, putting my hands over my mouth. "Hide in here," my sobbing mother had said minutes before," and whatever you do, do not make a sound." She closed the closet with me inside. "Mom, wha-" "Cara!" my father had shouted from another room," I called the cops, but I doubt it if they can make it in time, especially in this type of neighborhood." Faster, I thought, punch faster. I panted. "Jesus!" my mom had said, panicked," Where's Alison, Pam?" "I don-" I had replied. I heard the front door crashing down, my mother screeching. I opened the closet door very slowly; I can see through a small crack. Alison came running into my mom's room, my mother hugging her closely. A second later, my father and a tall man were fighting, punching at each other. Then, a shining object was at the hand of the man and with that he slashed my father's throat. My father, who I admired and love, came stumbling down. Blood, I never saw a lot of blood before in my entire life. Kick faster, I thought, kick harder. Then, the man laughed, pointing the knife to my younger sister Alison. He called over his other gang members to come inside. My mother hugged Alison closely, sobbing. He grabbed Alison by force. Even though my mother fought back for her daughter, she wasn't physically stronger than the man. Faster. He cut Alison repeatedly. Again, again, and again. "Harder," I hissed through my teeth. My mother, crying, shaking, crawled to a corner close to the closet. The man walked over, throwing the lifeless Alison out of the way. He walked to my mother, unzipped his pants and my mother's pants. Then... "Come on..." I hissed as I did a double hook on the bag. I heard cheerful shouting and encouraging remarks from the other members.The police came ten minutes after... "Come on..." I grunted as I elbowed the lifeless bag. A police officer found me in the closet, and gently helped me out. Three bloody body bags were being taken away. "Come on..." I cried as I did a turning back kick and a double round-kick. "I'm...sorry," the police officer had said as we made it outside. From there, I cried and cried until my eyes ran dry. "Come on!" I shouted as I did a tornado kick, my voice echoing through the large dojang. "Pam!" Mike shouted from his office, his voice firm and hoarse," Take a break! Even if you think you don't need it, your body and muscles do after three hours of non-stop training!" Panting, I put both hands on my head, inhaling and exhaling oxygen deeply. My tan skin was glistening with sweat and my body was shaking. Mike is my adoptive father; he took me in a couple of months after the murder of my family. My only family. We used to live in Cook county, in Wicker Park. Then, we moved to the Back of the Yards neighborhood. Let's just say it's not one of the friendliest neighborhood you'll ever encounter. Mike was an owner and instructor of a large Dojang, a place where Tae Kwon Do was practiced. I was a depressed 16-year-old; who wouldn't be after such a tragedy? He was a single parent, his wife Mona died of breast cancer a few years back. No family either, something we had in common. Probably the reason why we become close. Misery loves company, they say. Since I had nothing better to do, I started training. I begged him to train me and finally agreed under one condition: I wasn't his adoptive daughter during training. I was a warrior, a soldier training mentally and physically. I didn't object, but, oh man, he put me through a lot of hell. But the results were great. I got really toned and have lean muscles; I do have a bit of muscles, but not to the point that I look like a bodybuilder. Not only we trained during the day, we trained a lot at night. Even though I don't really consider him my "dad," he was close. We really bonded. I looked up to him. Classes were held during Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Even though he mainly teaches Tae Kwon Do, he trains me with different martial art styles outside of class: Krav Maga, Judo, Boxing, Muay Thai, and basic self-defense. We live in a small apartment, which was the second floor of the dojang. Small, but it feels like home. He taught me about courage, strength, and the spirit of a warrior. And love. "Everything we do is because of love. I became an instructor because I love to teach and pass my knowledge to others. If it's not love, then, damn, I don't know why I've been teaching for the past twenty years." Love? What is love? I didn't feel anything but sadness in my heart. I got my blue belt a couple weeks back and I was pretty proud of that; I can feel Mike was proud, too. "You leaving tonight?" I asked loudly. He replied yes. "You know the drill," he said as he walked out of his office," One week for each month; bonding time with my boys. Just make sure you don't burn down the place." I chuckled under my unsteady breath. Mike and I had a routine: one week in each month, he goes to Wisconsin, see his best buds, gamble and get drunk with them. Honking, a car was waiting outside of the dojang and Mike was off. And I had the place all by myself. It was snowing hard outside; our dojang was located in a bad neighborhood in Chicago. I always got scared if someone tries to break in and try to hurt me, but not anymore. Not anymore. I got to the point where I drove fear out of my mind. I got use to being alone in a huge dojang, while maybe a gang war was being held near outside. Walking to the locker room, I decided I had enough training for tonight. I stripped my soaking clothes away, and showered. Standing at 5'6, my long black hair and layered side bangs annoyed my somewhat slanted eyes. Calming. A very hot shower always calms me down. After I showered, I got my clothes out of my own locker and changed into my black tank top and black pajama pants; thank god the dojang had a heater. Starving, I walked upstairs and headed for the kitchen. I looked around the almost empty fridge, found some cold Chinese takeout, and put it in the microwave. I turned on the lights.We didn't own a T.V. since Mike thinks it's a waste of money; I walked over the bare living room and began eating while reading "Antigone." Since it was Christmas vacation, I had nothing else better to do than to train, read, study, or do homework. I had nothing to study or work on so my only options were either reading or training. Christmas isn't really my thing, I just consider it a normal day. Well, probably the big reason was that my family was killed two days before Christmas and...well, you get my drift. After the murder, I just don't consider it as a holiday. I didn't really have a lot of friends, just a lot of acquaintances; I was too serious most of the time. Two years before, I wasn't like this. I was care-free, free-spirited, 16-year-old-everyday-teen-girl. Even though I absolutely didn't have a lot of crushes towards boys, I hanged out with my guy friends a lot. Since then, all I care about is training and school, nothing else. I put on some music by my favorite band Garbage; I absolutely love their music and I think Shirley Manson was and still is stunning. Putting the volume on low, I sat on the couch Indian style, ate, and began to read. I was in a world full of imagination while I heard a scream just outside of the dojang. I snapped my head up, and quickly looked outside the window. Even though it was dark out (it was almost midnight), the white snow made it easier to spot anything out of the ordinary. I looked down and saw a group of people. Well, actually, a group of three armed people; they were wearing hoodies. And a girl. I couldn't see any of their faces, but I knew that the people belonged in a gang. And the blonde girl was their victim. I rushed to get my cell from the kitchen counter and dialed 9, then 1, then stopped. The memory of my father's voice rang in my ears... "Cara!" my father had shouted from another room," I called the cops, but I doubt it if they can make it in time, especially in this type of neighborhood..." My body froze, my thumb barely touching the '1' button. Press it, I thought to myself, press the damn number! The police came ten minutes after... Don't you dare get yourself involve, I thought to myself, nothing get ever happens in a real fight. Especially with a gang. He cut Alison again. Again, again, and again... "God damn it," I whispered," this is a dangerous situation. Call the damn police!" Raped my mother... The police can't do anything. Especially in this kind of neighborhood. God damn it, I thought, this ain't your fight! Killed my family..."Cara!" my father had shouted from another room," I called the cops, but I doubt it if they can make it in time, especially in this type of neighborhood..." He cut Alison again. Again, again, and again...the police came ten minutes after... raped my mother... Killed my family... Something inside me snapped and before I knew what I was doing, I was running downstairs, barefooted. Muscles clenched, I unlocked the door, opened it ,and found myself facing three hooded figures; the figure in the middle was holding the girl, clutching her arms. The figures chuckled. "What do we have here?" one of them sneered, slowly approaching me," Don't you have somewhere to b-" Fast as lightning, I kneed him where it hurts, elbowed his nose, and did a round kick to his head. The other guy raised a knife above his head, and brought it down. I blocked his attack, elbowed his nose repeatedly, took his weapon away, and kneed him to the groin. Both that I attacked managed to scramble away and ran; I saw some dark spots in the snow that I guess was blood. I threw the knife far away. Panting, I looked to the figure who held the girl. It was still dark to see their faces, but I heard her whimpering. Foolish, I thought to myself, look what you have gotten yourself into. The figure was choking her, and something inside me crumbled. "Release her and face me, you fucking coward," I growled, my body shaking from the cold. "Hmmp," I heard him (I think it was a male) say in response. Quickly, he pushed the girl on the side and began charging towards me. Prepared, I dodged his charge, but I underestimated the dark; before I knew it, I came crashing on my back. With a loud oof! I felt two strong hands trying to choke me. "Remember to think of this as the real thing," Mike had said, straddling me while pretending to choke me with his hands during training," If your are on your back and someone is trying to choke you..." Gasping, I brought my two calves to his neck, making a V and starting pushing it forward. While doing that, I pulled his thumbs, freeing myself from the death grip. I punched his nose, pivoted my upper body to the right side, making him lay down to his side. "Stop," he gasped, clearly in pain, "Stop! Please! I won't do it again!" "This is the hard part: the fate of your attacker is your choice," Mike had said, "Make sure your choice isn't made by rage, but the communication between your head and heart. I know this is hard to understand since the attacker wants to kill you, right? And in self-defense, your life comes first, right? But there is a difference between self-defense and complete annhaliation. Do what you must to protect your life, but don't cross the line of massacre. Do only enough to protect your life." My eyes widened, my muscles relaxing. I got up to my feet, and kicked the man to the stomach. "Get the fuck out of here!" I yelled. Groaning, the man got up to his feet, clutched his stomach, and jogged away. Gasping, I felt a pang of pain on my left arm; my left shoulder is dislocated. Again. Won't be the last either. Painfully, I personally put it back in place. Frozen, I was about to go into the dojang when I heard a sobbing noise. I've almost forgotten about the girl. Shaking, I looked frantically for her and found her curled up in a ball a couple of feet away from me. What should I do, I asked myself in my head, do I leave her? Out here? Alone in a bad neighborhood at the middle of the night? I did what a responsible person would do: I didn't get involved any further. I was about to open the door when a feeling of guilt crawled into me. You little ass, I thought to myself, you were about to leave her alone all by herself! God damn. I walked slowly towards the sobbing girl, her body shaking. Even though it was dark, I can see that she was wearing some kind of school uniform. She must be a rich kid who goes to private school. What in the world? Why is she here in this kind of neighborhood? I crouched down and touched her hand. "Get away from me," she sobbed, and I automatically removed my hand away from hers. I cleared my throat. "Look," I said calmly," you're not exactly in a safe neighborhood so leaving you out here by yourself isn't a good idea. There's a heater inside, some food and drink, and warm clothes. And a cell phone you can call whoever to pick you up." I slowly reached my hand to her. "How about it?" I can feel her eyes on mine. Seconds went by and she said," How do I know you won't kill me when I am inside?" Rolling my eyes, I replied, "I just saved you from being killed, if you don't mind me saying. I think your trust for me just increased even if only a tiny bit." With that comment, she immediately took my hand, and stood up. She then walked over and picked a school bag next to the entrance. "Thank you," she whispered while I was about to open the door for her, "really. Thank you." She gave me a faint smile, lips curving. My stomach lurched. As she walked inside, I replied, "Anytime." (To be continued...) Fighting For Her Ch. 02 Once we got inside, I never realized how cold I was until my body shook uncontrollably. I noticed she was shivering, too, by the sound of her shuddering breaths. As I turned on the lights in the main entrance, I finally got a good look at her: she looked similar to actress Kristen Bell, but her hair was a bit darker and her blue eyes lighter. She was a bit shorter than me, maybe at about two to three inches shorter. From my observations, she's wearing some kind of school uniform. She wore a black jacket, and some kind of white shirt inside. To my horror, she was wearing a skirt; not too long, but not too short. How in the world does she stay warm, I thought, if she wears skirts? Oh, the wonders of the world. But I got to say, she has one killer legs. She looked around the building, a hint of comfort showered her eyes. "Aren't you cold?" she asked suddenly while she taking off her bag. My body shook. "Yea," I said, shuddering, " a little bit." "Your clothes," she chuckled," aren't exactly for winter." I was going to respond, " Yours aren't exactly for winter either," but I decided not to. The look on her eyes made me speechless. Snap out of it, I thought to myself. "Um," I said, " I have my phone upstairs and a little bit of food and pop. If you want to, I can run over to a nearby store and get some more food." She quickly grabbed my right hand, her hands cold as ice. I shuddered at the contact. "No," she said, almost too low for anyone to hear, " if you don't mind, can you stay by my side until I go home?" The gentleness in her voice melted my heart; I wasn't really used to gentle affection. I cleared my throat and replied," No, I don't mind at all." She gleamed and showed me her wide smile; I swear my heart just skipped a beat. "The stairs are right over there," I stuttered, pointing to the far back, "I need to lock up completely and check if everything down here is good." She bit her lower lip. "Is it okay if I just stay by you? I don't want to go upstairs without you." I raised my right eyebrow, amusement and happiness fluttered throughout my body. She looks really cute, I thought, those lips, eyes, breasts...she's attractive... Whoa, I thought, what are you thinking? For crying out loud, she's a girl and if you haven't noticed already you are one, too. I scratched my head in frustration. "By the way, my name's Amy," she said, interrupting my thoughts," what's yours?" "Pamela and I don't mind you staying by me." "Hmm," she said, smiling," Pamela. Fitting name for my knight in shining armor." Hiding my blushing face, I walked slowly to the door and began locking it. I locked all the windows and turned off the lights. Since I already have a mental map of the place, I can usually go upstairs without any lights on. I was about to reach my hand to Amy to guide her when I felt a gentle tug on my right arm. She hugged it, feeling her breasts rubbing up my arm. "We should probably head upstairs," I said nervously, " and call the cops of what happened tonight. Sounds good?" Several seconds went by before she replied yes. Slowly, I guided her upstairs, opening the door that leads to the small apartment. Fortunately, the light was on in the bare living room; to my dissapointment, she let go of my arm when she saw the light. She went to the living room and sat down on the couch, looking through "Antigone." Breaking my eyes off her, I rushed to the kitchen and found my cell. Before I could dial 9-1-1, she called my name from the living room. "What's up?" I asked, phone still on my hand. She was sitting on the couch, showing a worried expression on her face. "Can you not call the police?" "And why not?" "Because..." I crossed my arms, waiting for an explanation. "Well?" "I'm a runaway." "What?" Her head dropped, her lips quivering. God, I wanted to taste those lips, but I contained myself. "Do you have a minute?" For the next couple of minutes, she slowly explained and opened up to me. She explained the hatred she felt towards her family; it came to the point that running away was the only option. I listened intensely, sitting Indian-style and facing her: she came from a very rich family (apparently, her father owns a huge industry.) Her family and herself weren't emotionally or physically attached to one another. Everyday was business day for them, not a single kiss goodbye or hello, no dinner meals with the family, or anything at all. Just business. She described her father. Boy, he sounded like a hard, cold man from the way she described him: no affection, moral support, nothing. One day, she couldn't take it anymore. She was tired from her family that wasn't family-like. She was tired of going to a private school, doing hard classes just to please her family, even if a little bit. She was tired of having only a little bit of social life since she was busy most of the time with her school work. I stood in front of her, unmoving. Should I call or not? Sighing, I flipped my cell shut. "I swear, if I get into more deep troub-" "You won't," she instantly said," I promise." A thought occurred to me. Does she have a place she can stay? I couldn't possibly leave her alone on the streets at this time of night. Hell, she'll be slaughtered when she takes twenty steps away from the entrance door. I scratched my head in frustration. "Do you have a place to stay for tonight?" I asked nervously. She shrugged. "Not really, to be honest. I never thought running away was so hard. I had a bag full of clothes and money with me, but the money got stolen from the guys you saved me from." I leaned against to the nearest wall. "Why don't you stay here?" I asked while looking down at my feet." Until you find a place 'till then, I mean. My stepdad won't be here until next Sunday. I- I mean i-if you don't have anywhere to go." I looked at her. She had a relaxed, peaceful expression. Her eyes pierced into mine. I never felt so... vulnerable. "I'd like that," she softly said, " that's very generous of you." "Well, um," I said," there's only two bedroom here, but Mike's, my stepdad, is off limits. He hates it when someone goes in his room. I'll sleep out here and you can sleep in my room." She bit her lower lip and said," Okay. That sounds good. Oh my god, are you okay?" I realized I was grabbing my throbbing left arm. Instinctly, I sat down on the couch, side opposite from her. "Uh, yea, " I lied, wincing as I tried to massage the damn arm," I'm good." "Oh, please." She chuckled, shook her head, and went to the kitchen. She came back with a bag full of ice. Gracefully, she sat down Indian style in front of me, facing face-to-face. Our knees were touching. I gulped nervously. Carefully, she placed the bag on my arm. I flinched from the cold contact. I held the bag, our hands made contact. "Does this happen that often?" she asked almost in a whisper. "Well, yea," I replied." My shoulder has been dislocated millions of times and-" "No," she said, chuckling a bit." You saving random strangers." I smiled at her, but responded no answer. "It has been a long night," I said, "and I know you're tired. You can sleep, I can heal myself." We both smiled. "So let me get this straight, " she said as she stands up, "You saved a girl whom you never even met before, then you bring her to your apartment, and offer her to stay until she finds a place?" "Pretty much," I said, looking at her. She showed her most perfect smile, and shook her head. "You're something else." After seconds of looking at each other, I slowly stood up. I ditched the ice bag, which I regret very much since my arm still hurts like hell. I gave her the tour of my small apartment, which lasted for 3-5 minutes. I made my bed on the couch, showed her my room and gave her some of my clothes to change in the room. After she changed, she looked marvelous. She had a red tank top on with blue sweat pants. Her hair was a bit messy, but she looked sexy as hell. After gawking at her while sitting on the couch, she looked at my way and approached me. Blushing, I pretended to stare at something else. I felt her standing by the couch and looked up. "Thank you." "For what?" Her eyes were watering, voice quivering, " For everything. Good night." Slowly, she leaned into me and I surrendered into her loving hug. Her soft, golden skin was intoxicating. Her hair, lips, eyes, everything about her was intoxicating. She would be the kind of drug I would gladly be addicted to. And I might as well be. Our hug ended, and she smiled at me. Afterwards, she walked towards my room, and closed the door behind her. And there I was, laying on the couch, eyes wide open. I have never felt excited for morning to come. Fighting For Her Ch. 03 I woke up with a loud bang! on my head. That is, I rolled over to the edge and ungracefully slipped out of the couch, leaving my face flat on the floor. Moaning, I slowly got up, shrugging off the blanket off me. I normally have 4-6 hours of sleep and, trust me, that's a blessing. After my family died, I had 3-4 hours of sleep each night. It's funny what on can miss, especially as simple as sleep. I looked at my cell; it was 7 a.m. Time to train. I changed my shorts to sweat pants, put on socks and shoes, and tied my hair up. I was about to go downstairs when I realized I needed my hand wraps. They were in my room. I tip-toed to my room and gently opened door. What I saw completely grabbed my heart. There she was, her serene face facing at me. She was laying on her side, her chest heaving up and down. The blanket was on the floor, leaving her body exposed. Her body was in a curled-up position as if she was cold. I slowly got into my drawer and grabbed my wraps. Then, as I was about to exit, I looked at her one last time. Sighing, I slowly got down to grab the blanket, and put it on top of her. As I did, I felt my heart was about to burst. I looked at her luscious lips, oval face, and long eyelashes. I had a huge urge to just kiss her right there on the spot, never letting her go. But, of course, I didn't. I'm no perv. And, even if I did kiss her, I'm pretty sure she'll think I'm a disgusting moron. No, I'm more than that, god damn it. I gave her a pitying smile, and slowly went out of the bedroom, never noticing that she slowly woke from her slumber; she opened her eyes and smiled as I closed the door. ------------------- I didn't give my 100% during training. First of all, my body was sore, especially my left arm (damn shoulder). Second, I couldn't concentrate when Amy's face was in my head. I laid myself down on the middle of the boxing ring (I know Mike makes enough money from teaching, but it seems to me that there were a lot of expensive equipment in the place. I guess I won't ask where he gets some of his extra money from). Trying to catch my breath, I inhaled deeply and slowly while listening to Break by Three Days Grace through the booming stereo. "Seems like you had a tough morning!" Quickly, I shifted my head to the direction of the voice. It was Amy, grinning as she hopped on to the ring. She sat next to me as I pushed the off button on the stereo's remote. As I was about to sit up, she placed her head on my stomach, leaving me more breathless than ever. I placed myself completely flat on the floor. "Let's go somewhere today," Amy said as she looked towards the ceiling. I shifted my body nervously. "Uh, what?" I felt her head turned to me. "Yeah. Show me around." I laughed, and sat up, expecting her to do the same, but didn't. Instead, her head laid flat against my lap, and those gorgeous ocean eyes stared up to mine. "You serious?" She smiled, showing her glistening teeth. "Dead serious." I gave her a doubtful look. "I'm a stranger to you." She shifted her head. "Then this is a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other." I pursed my lips together, full in thought. There were some places I like to see, but to her it might be a bit boring. Unexpected, too. I mean, everyone knows downtown Chicago and the beauty of it; the fast paced luxury life, concerts, parks, shops and stores, all that good stuff. But no one sees the beauty of unknown, beat up places like my neighborhood. I raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Let me shower first and I'll show you around." I waited for her to move. When she didn't, I gently lifted her head, while I squirmed my way out. Chuckling, she got up and headed upstairs, while I walked towards the shower room. ------------------------- Sighing, I put my forehead on the wall while hot water shimmered down my body. It has been a long and unexpected night. Very unexpected. Well, not the gang stuff , but meeting and saving Amy. I never felt as vulnerable, transparent before and what I mean by that is there isn't one person who actually looked at me in the eye and see what's actually there: a true person, not a broken girl who lost her family and lives in a beat up neighborhood. I like that. I smiled as I thought about her beautiful smile. Heck, she was just marvelous outside and inside, but it made me think. I miss my family and she doesn't. Oh, what I would do to be closer to them even though they are workaholics or just plain cold. I can't be biased, I haven't even met her family, but still. People have weird ways of showing their love to their loved ones and I can't imagine a parent not loving their children. I scratched my wet hair and sighed. Then, I heard noises on the other side of the wall (the shower room has individual walls for privacy, but exposes your little behind. I always complained to Mike that we should have doors, but he said that no one's complaining but me.) Cautiously, I peeked around the corner of the wall. "Can you pass me your shampoo please?" a familiar voice asked. I whipped my head back around to my own space and hugged the wall. What the hell!? When did Amy come in? "Pam?" she asked again," Shampoo?" Panicking, I picked the shampoo up and handed it to her over the wall. "Um," I said after I cleared my throat," here." "Thanks!" After she grabbed the shampoo bottle, I turned off the shower, grabbed my towel, and hurried to the locker room. My mind was racing as I wrapped myself with my towel. Millions of images of Amy naked popped in my head. I shrugged the thoughts off. Jesus Pam, I thought to myself, get a grip! Shivering, I half walked and half ran to the locker room. "Hey Pam?" Amy asked quietly, barely audible," Can you bring me a towel? I forgot to bring one." Sighing, I looked down at my feet, feeling my heart beat faster every second. I told her I'd be back; I rushed to the locker with my towel on and walked back with hers. As I did, I heard a new noise, not the shower or the water rustling. It was more of a soft sob. Concerned, I walked to the source and found out that it was coming from Amy's shower space. "Amy?" I asked quietly. No answer. Gulping, I quietly and silently went to her space. She was curled up like a ball naked on a corner with her head down on her bended knees. She was violently shivering, and sobbing nonstop. I rushed over and kneeled besides her, not caring that my towel touched the water on the ground. I threw her dry towel on her back and around her, rubbing it gently; her back was facing me and she was facing the corner. "Jesus," I sputtered as I turned off the shower, "Amy? Amy, come on, talk to me!" Hearing the urgency from my voice, she slightly turned her head and gently leaned her back and head to me. Sobbing quietly, the back of her head nestled on my stomach. Then, almost in panic, she sobbed her heart out.. Still kneeling down with my back straight, I cradled her head. I held back my own tears while I felt hers rustling down my hands. "Shhh," I whispered, my body shaking, "it's okay. Tell me. Tell me why you are crying." Jesus, I thought, please tell me. Tell me how to make it stop, I can't bear seeing you like this... "I keep thinking about last night," she whispered, "t-those guys were about to k-k-kill me. I-I don't- I don't know what I'm doing...what the hell was I thinking?!" She continued her sobbing and babbling for a few more minutes, while I continue to hold her. I rested my right side of my face to the wall. God, I thought, I wanna stay like this forever. I want to hold her, and, God, so much more. Most of all, I want her to be happy. Her sobbing became sniffles, and I felt her body relaxing. Eventually, my hands started rubbing the sides of her arms. "Hey," she whispered, trying to look up. "Hey," I said, "feeling better?" She chuckled. "Yea, I guess." "Good," I said, smiling," because I promised you a date." We both chuckled and a few minutes later she eventually got up and walked towards the locker room. And there I was, still kneeling from the same spot, wanting to hold her again. ---------------------- Actually, hanging out with her was fun. First, we hopped on a bus and went to downtown Chicago, the place she wanted to go the most. I've been to downtown Chicago many times, so I know my way around. By appearance, we didn't clash together. She had her fancy school coat, and faded black pants she borrowed from me. She barrowed my new boots and she looked marvelous in it. Her curly, dirty, blonde hair made her look angelic and elegant. Plus, the makeup she borrowed from me made her look like a goddess. Straight to the point, she looked like a celebrity walking through downtown Chicago. For me, well, I look like any ordinary civilian. From my previous classmates, they told me I was a combination between Michelle Rodriguez and Eliza Dushku. Relations? Both of them are beautiful and can kick major ass. I had my dark grey trench coat on with black gloves, a hat, and beat up sneakers. I know, I'm very fashionable. While I was trying to survive the cold, Amy was walking through the crowds like a model would on the catwalk. We started chatting away, not really going in to any stores, but just walking around and through the busy crowds. Eventually, we sat down to a nearby bench and chatted away. I told her mostly everything about me; my likes, dislikes, fears, goals, etc., but I left out the murder of my family. I told her that Mike was my real father, my mother died of breast cancer, I'm the only child, and I didn't have any relatives. "Well," she said ," it's a good thing you're an only child. Siblings suck." I replied no answer and looked down. "Hey," she said in concern," are you okay?" "I want to take you somewhere," I said as I looked up to those blue eyes, "and it's a little less... fancier than downtown Chicago." "Oh?" she said while tilting her head," And where is that exactly?" I smiled and looked at her seriously. "Somewhere closer to my heart." Her face softened, peaceful. Moments later, she smiled, and broke off our stare by looking down to the ground. Eyes widened, I looked down, also. Oh god, I thought, did I just say that to her? Did I? Idiot! Hiding my embarrassment, I cleared my throat and stood up. I felt something pulling my right hand. "Oh, no you don't Ms. I'm-too-cool-for-emotions!" she said, chuckling," Sit your ass down. I want to sit for a couple more minutes." To my surprise, I did just that, but this time my body was closer to hers. We talked more about our dreams of the future, and random facts about themselves. Just normal chatting. We must have been there for an hour or so as I noticed the sky getting a bit darker. "Hey," I suddenly said," we should probably go. Dark skies is a sign for 'let's get the hell out of here'" She giggled and agreed. I guess we really did chat too long since when we arrived to my neighborhood, it was pitch black. Not good. -------------------------- "Shit" "What's wrong?" I grabbed her hand and took her behind the bus stop. Paranoid, I carefully looked around. Clear. "Take off your clothes." Shocked, she quickly took her hand from mine. I quickly shrugged off my trench coat, hat, and gloves. I gave her a pleading look. Please, I thought to myself, this isn't the fucking time to ask these types of questions. "What!? What is-" "Quick. Just trust me on this...okay?" She gave me a paranoid, confused look. Slowly, I leaned to her, my body almost touching hers. To my surprise, she didn't back away, but stood perfectly still like the night. I whispered to her right ear. "This is a very dangerous place to be in the middle of the night, as you may already know. People aren't people here during the night. They become murderers, looking for blood. Blood for blood." I gave her my trench coat, along with my hat and gloves. She didn't take it. Instead, she gave me another questioning look. "Listen, there are more than one gangs roaming around the streets at night here. Especially the Red gang. They're...ruthless, Amy. Just take off your coat, okay?" Without any hesitation, she took off her fancy coat, and gave it to me. While taking the coat, I nudged her to put on my coat along with my gloves and hat, which she did. "The kind of clothes you wear makes you a target. This coat of yours is a perfect example." "What are you doing?" Even though she was a bit smaller than me, her coat fits perfectly on me. A little bit tight, but still fits. "Becoming the target. People here judge the way people wear. If I didn't have any coat on, I'd be attack. If I wear this coat, I'd be also be attacked. If it's a beat up looking coat, then it's all good. I don't know why, but that's the way it works. Okay, here's the plan: don't look down at your feet, but don't put your chin up high. Don't make eye contact to anyone." Our bodies were still close, perhaps an inch apart. I can hear her breathing heavily. She's scared. To be honest, I was scared, too. There was this kid at school. Jason was his name and he freshly got promoted to be a red belt. All those six months in waiting, he finally got the belt. I remember him from my history class. He always paid close attention to the females in class instead of the lectures. Stupid kid always bragging about his belt. Figures. Then one night, one of the gangs from school decided to test his fighting capability. It was around midnight, if I remember correctly, when Jason came out from Uncle Phil's Mart and came face-to-face to five members of the Red gang. Jason always liked a challenge, especially in the ring, but this time this it wasn't the ring and there are other alternatives than a pair of fists. Instead of fighting fair, the gangs decided to fight dirty. Jason got his pair of fist out, while the five guys got their handguns out. Jason didn't have a chance. Tonight, I felt the overwhelming emotions Jason must have felt that night. The fear that ate away the body bit by bit, and the adrenaline rush that rushed throughout the body. I looked at Amy square in the eye. "I go ahead of you first and you follow me. Here." I gave her the key to the Dojang and carefully put it in the coat's left pocket. God, I thought, this is going to be a bloody night. "The Dojang is not hard to find. I'm pretty sure you know where it is, right? Good. Whatever you do, lock the door right away once you're inside. If I'm not back for 10 minutes...just call the police." "What!?" "Shh! Not so lo-" "What the fuck do you me-" "Just trust me on th-" "No! This is fucking crazy!" I closed my eyes for a second and sucked a mouthful of air, feeling it going through my lungs. "Trust me. This is the only way." "The fuck it is! There are other ways, I'm sure. How about you don't wear the fucking coat!?" "You don't get it, don't you?" I hissed. "Gangs have eyes on the streets. They probably saw someone with a fancy coat walking out of the Dojang. Well guess what? They're expecting someone with the same coat going back." "Well whatever!" she hissed back. "Why don't we sneak pass them, act neutral instead of this sh-" "You honestly think this is just because of a coat, do you?" I asked almost chuckling. "Gangs fuck with anyone walking on their streets, with or without a fancy coat. Just the way it is." I thought of Jason. Hell, I thought of the other kids in school that were innocent victims of gang violence: Andy, Jasmine, Ashley, Bobby, Josh, Leigh, Will, and I'm sure there are many more. Jasmine stood out in my mind. She was only seven years old who just wanted to play with her new Barbie doll that her mom got from the Dollar Store for her birthday. She played with her toy everywhere, from school to the little clothing store her mom worked at. One night, when her mom was working and she was playing outside on the sidewalk with her Barbie doll, she accidentally bumped into a young boy. No, not just a young boy, a boy who was a member of a gang. The boy called over his friends from across the street to come over. A couple of hours later, Jasmine's mom looked for daughter. She found her alright, on the middle of the sidewalk, naked and had multiple stab wounds all over her body. No, there aren't any other ways, I'm afraid. (He walked to my mother, unzipped his and my mother's pants...) I painfully shrugged the memory away. "It'll be alright," I whispered, more to me than to Amy," I promise." We looked at each other, carefully analyzing the possible outcomes of the night. Her gaze felt heavy on me, like boulders being put on my shoulders. But my pounding heart became at ease, and I felt comforted. I couldn't read her; most of the time, I can read other people's expression and body language. She slowly looked away. "Let's just do this thing," she mumbled, as she put her hands in the pockets. "Remember don-" "I know, I know. Don't look anyone on the eyes, don't look down to the ground, but don't put your chin up high either." "You're a fast learner," I smiled. She gave no reply, but gave me a worried look instead. At that moment, it seems that she wanted to say something else to me, but hesitated to do so. Instead, she unwillingly put the hat on, and resumed to put her hands in the coat pockets. "Twelve feet. Leave a gap between us for at least twelve feet, no more, no less. Follow me." And on we went. (To be continued...) Fighting For Her Ch. 04 Hey readers :-) Please please please forgive me, I promise I'll make it up to you guys one way or another. Now, someone asked me what inspired me to write this story. Like the rest of my stories, in my dreams and music. Yep, you heard right. I dreamt most of my stories, and music that somehow relates to the dream inspired me even more. In this case, it was Hollywood Undead. Enjoy ;) ----------------------------------- ~ Let's watch this city burn From the skylines on top of the world Till there's nothing left of her Let's watch this city burn the world ~ (-City by Hollywood Undead) ---------------------------------- Streets have different kinds of smell. The smell of hot dogs right by the hot dog stand. The smell of various people with their cologne and body odor. But aside from all that, there are other different kinds of smell. The smell of happiness in a neighborhood. Despair, peacefulness, and wealth. In my neighborhood, it reeks the smell of blood and war. Women going against women, men going against men, women going against men. People against people. For children, the monsters and demons they read about in books were already roaming around the streets even before they were born. For some of them, their parents are the demons. Tonight, the smell of blood blanketed around me, clinging for its life. -------------------------------------- I shivered. Mike told me to never, and I mean never, roam the streets at night. People fuck with other people's problems, and guess what? They all eventually get killed, which makes Amy and I vulnerable. Just keep on walking, Pamela, I thought to myself. Just keep on walking like it's a normal thing. A gunshot was heard somewhere deep within one of the alleys, and the night awakened. I shivered again, and kept my eyes averted from direct eye contact from anyone. From that moment on, I was aware of everything. The half-dead woman laying by the curb, a car's radio cranked up to the maximum, group of teen girls smoking with their too-revealing outfits, and a group of mixed women and men walking across the street like rulers. I felt sick to my stomach, this is not good. Some one was laughing, and I hope to God Amy was alright. In instinct, I turned my head around to see if Amy started to walk, which was a grave mistake since I made eye contact with one man. That man was in a group with other suspicious looking men huddled together. Curious, the man shifted, and cocked his head to his men, and all of them looked in my way. Smoothly like nothing happened, I slowly turned my head towards the front, and walked a little faster subtly, but I can feel my blood running hotly through my veins. It's all in your head, Pamela, I thought to myself. All up in your head. But the realist side of me nudged and awakened, and warned me that the men are going to follow me wherever I go. I turned my head slightly, and I was right. The men were already following me with their hands in their pocket, a sly grin sketched on their mouths. "Yo beautiful, wait up for us!" one of them sneered. "Do I need to sign up for an appointment?" The men roared with laughter, my body flinched. I needed to get out of there and fast. Just as I was about to walk around the corner, another group of men walked towards me, all of Hispanic origins. As I was about to walk back, I stumbled into the previous group of men, which were for the most part of white origins. Shit, I thought. My heart stopped beating. I knew these groups. These were THE groups that had a strong, but violent history, and they absolutely hated each other. They're the guys you hear of starting a fight in the middle of the day. If one member, just one, walked up to the opposing gang, automatically guns, knives, and fists will fly everywhere. Pride is such a powerful thing. I tried going to the other side of the street, but I knew that will lead to my death. That was the heart of the neighborhood, others call it "The Belly of the Beast." Every civilian that wandered in that area was either severely injured or even killed. A name popped into my head: Cassandra. A punk rock teen, but an extremely intelligent student, she was the rebellious type. She cut her long red hair, layered and spiked it against her family's wishes. She didn't care, and she never did. We hung out throughout middle school and freshmen year, but it was then she decided that she wanted something more out of her life. She knew she wasn't going to find that "something" in this neighborhood. So, she decided to run away. I remembered it well. I remember sitting on her bed, trying to convince her out of it, but whenever Cassandra set her mind on something, she'll accomplish it sooner or later. "Well, what about your name?" "Psh," Cassandra had said, packing her Paramore Cd's (she got her haircut's inspiration from her favorite singer Hayley Williams). "What about my name?" "I don't know," I said as I was eyeing her at that time. "What if random people ask for your name? Real name?" "Hmmm..." she said, zipping her bag, "I'll go with Doe. Carrie Doe." I laughed, "Carrie Doe? Why Carrie? Just go with Jane Doe, dumbass." "Hey now," she said, grinning. "I like Carrie. It sounds sexy, dangerous and powerful. Like you have something to hide. Sort of like Stephen King's 'Carrie,' you know?" I shook my head, and she patted my shoulder. Then off she went. A week later, she was reported missing. She was last seen wandering around the belly of the neighborhood. She just vanished without a trace, and I guess the authorities just gave up. They probably had bigger priorities, you know? I mean, who would spend their time looking for a girl from a shitty neighborhood when they have to look for a millionaire's son that was missing for three days? Ridiculous. Hell no, I wasn't going through the belly. The other choice I had was to go through an alley, supposedly a shortcut to the Dojang, but I knew it was dangerous. Who knows who or what I'll encounter through there. But. I had no choice. With my hands in the coat's pockets, I walked through it with every confidence I had in me. There was barely any light except for a lone flicking bulb. With my cell phone, I let the display screen shine the way. As I made it halfway through the alley, I stopped when I saw a group mixed with teen girls and boys coming my way. Theses weren't just a group of teens; they had red shirts and red bandanas on. The Red Gang. I looked back where I came from and saw several members of the previous groups arguing heatedly with each other. I looked around the alley, desperate to avoid the Red Gang as possible. I saw doors, but I know for sure that if I came knocking on these doors, no one will be my knight in shining armor. Most people here are afraid of the Red Gang. I closed my eyes, and let out an unsteady sigh, feeling my body panicking. Please, I thought to myself. Let me get out of this alive. "Hey girlie!" a female voice with the gang said. "What you up to tonight, huh? Why you all alone?" "Someone might fuck with you," a guy's voice boomed. "Like me." I can feel my hair sticking up on the back of my neck, a sign of warning, but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't fight these guys without getting extremely hurt, and who knows what weapons they might surprise me with. I cleared my throat and walked to them, my eyes straight forward. Let's try to reason with them, I thought to myself. I silently scoffed. Yea right, like that'll happen. "No trouble," I said with confidence, gulping. The members simply just looked at each other and broke out with laughter. A guy around my age walked to me and literally stood an inch away from my face. He sneered, his dirty teeth covered in saliva. Suddenly, he pushed me with full force, but luckily I didn't fall down. Breathing heavily, I tried to keep a cool head. Relaxed. I held out my two hands in front of me, showing that I didn't want any trouble, but that angered him even more. He got something out: a gun. And he pointed it to me. His friends behind him chuckled, looking at me with interest. "Don't you see, bitch?" he said with so much pride in his voice. "We own this. We can do whatever we wa-" A gunshot was heard close behind me, and the other members got their own weapons out, ranging from a mere knife to a shot gun. I couldn't breathe nor move. You know those moments when you have so much adrenaline, but all you can do is freeze? That's what I did. Frozen like a statue. Firearms and I were never a good combination. "S-stay away!" a voice behind me said. My eyes sprung open. Amy? "Well hellooooo there!" the teen said, smirking. "Didn't yo' folks tell you never to ain't play with guns?" He pointed the gun at her, his eyes pleading for violence. Amy, on the other hand, stood her ground, her body fidgeting while holding the gun unsteadily at the teen. But this guy wasn't a dumbass. He knew Amy wasn't the type who would randomly pull out a gun out of nowhere. He spat on the ground, and pointed the gun back to me. "I know your type, girlie," he said, gliding his tongue across his teeth. "I know it ain't yo' nature or have the fucking guts to pull tha' trigger. But what makes this" he crushed the barrel on my forehead "piece of nothing so special to yo', hmmm?" "She-" she began to say, her voice breaking. Suddenly, there were gunshots and a couple of sparks flew everywhere. The teen along with his friends started shouting, and I decided that it was time to get out of there. I sprinted and took Amy by the hand, who was looking curiously at the top of a building. "Who the fu-" the teen cursed behind me. Amy and I were almost halfway through the alley. All we can hear was our ragged breaths and our shoes making heavy contact to the ground. And all I can do is pray that the previous gangs were gone. Well, I was half right. Once we came out, most if not all of the members were all down on the ground, either dead or not. I stopped for a second, catching my breath, while Amy went behind me and hugged me from behind. As her hands were gripping my arms, her body was shaking. I can feel her chest heaving violently against my back. A drop of sweat glided down my face when I cam to realize that I recognized some of the faces among the bodies. Lance, Javier, Jools, and Hanna. I knew them from school. I saw them most of the days walking through the hallways, always curious to learn. But I guess along the way, something happened. Somehow something blinded them to join this epidemic instead of being blinded with their studies. I wanted to do something, help them up, drag them somewhere safe. Something. But that'll just involve me even more, even Amy. But I don't see any bullet or knife wounds, I thought to myself while observing the bodies. They all look like they're all...sleeping? "Let's go...please...?" Amy croaked, putting her forehead on the back of my neck. Shit, Amy. "Let's go," I managed to get out, then grabbed Amy's hand. -------------------------------------- ~All together, walk alone all we've ever known All we've ever really wanted was a place to call our home But you take all we are, the innocence of our hearts Made to kneel before the alter as you tear us apart~ (-Young by Hollywood Undead) -------------------------------------- We finally made it to the Dojang, but to say it was easy was an understatement. It took us another hour to get there since we had to sneak around more. What a disaster. Once I opened the door, I pulled Amy into the building and I immediately put the locks on the door, checked all the windows, etc. The adrenaline rush was still there. Double checking the door again, I turned around and found of Amy, who ended up sitting in the middle of the boxing ring, shivering endlessly. I went to her without a moment's hesitation, knelt and hugged her, hopefully comforting her. She started weeping, and I whispered words that'll hopefully make her feel more at ease. "It's okay, Amy," I said, trembling while she rubbed her cheek against my shoulder. "We're safe now, they can't get us here. I promise." "T-they're outside," she sobbed, gently resting her cheek on mine. "P-pamela, they're o-o-outsi-" "I know, I know," I whispered, cradling her head. "But they won't get in, Amy. I will make sure they won't, I promise. God, Amy, I swear I promise." I hugged her tighter; I can feel her tears on the side of my face. She pressed her cheek against me and I closed my eyes. "I promise I'll take care of you," I whispered, pressing my cheek against hers. "Shhh..." Unconsciously, I straddled her, pulling my upper torso away from hers even though it ached to be closer. I put my hands on her face and looked at her closely, our faces a couple of inches apart. I held my breath and knew from that moment that I was falling for her. She was mesmerizing, and the way she looked at me with these tearful, terrified, but yet loving eyes made my heart leap. She whimpered when a tear slid down her cheek, but my fingers gently wiped it away. The side of my mouth twitched, and I put my forehead on hers to look at her eyes, she let out an unsteady rugged breath. Her mouth was a bit hesitant to move. But I knew from the way her mouth opened slightly, her jaw fidgeting, I knew. I knew that I wanted her right now. "I promise," I whispered airily into her mouth, her arms pulling me even closer. I kissed her. I kissed her like her lips and mouth were the only sources of living. I kissed her like I was devouring her oh so gently. A whimper erupted from her throat, and she kissed me back, her hand grabbing her coat I was still wearing, her other hand pulling the back of my head. I hissed, gently bit her lower lip when her hand glided across my chest. I can feel the urgency, the need from the way she was breathing violently. Her chest heaving up and down. Shyly, she started to take off the coat, her knuckles grazing against the side of my body. I helped and disregarded the coat, putting it next to her, our tongue endlessly trying to explore each others' mouths. The logical being sprinted back to me and back in its place in my mind, and I slightly gasped. What if I'm taking advantage of her? Her vulnerability... Grunting, I tried pulling back from her, my body resisting my plan. Unstraddling her lap, my bottom softly landed near her side, and I began inching my way out, but Amy had other plans. Sighing with a hint of desperation, she basically tackled me. She threw her body to me and laid herself on top. Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes that devoured and demanded desire. She stopped kissing me, put her forehead on mine, and breathed into my mouth. I shivered. There was so much intimacy between us, our bodies hot like two live wires. I needed her. I pushed my doubts, and all my thoughts out the window. "What are you doing to me..." I whispered into her mouth, her eyes closing. "What are you doing to me?" She looked at me again and started lifting my shirt up with her gently nibbling my jaw line. She sat up, put my shirt beside me, and slowly took her coat and shirt off. I shivered again, little sounds erupting from the back of my throat. Her skin was flawless, the texture of perfection. I tried grabbing something, anything, my nails digging into the mat. She gave me an unsteady, but seductive gaze, and unclipped her bra, letting it fall on my stomach. A little growl escaped from my throat, and I put my body on top of hers. Instead of her lips, I went straight for her neck, and gently bit it. A sound mixed between a whimper and a cry came out of her lips, she began to squirm underneath me when my lower lip glided across the base of her throat. I kissed her collar bone, and glided my lower lip down to her chest. It was then she lifted her hips, she started grinding against me, but I pushed her hips down. "Pleasepleaseplease..."she whispered repeatedly, panic in her voice. "Please, Pam. Plea-" She never finished her plea. My mouth was watering for her breasts. Gingerly, I sucked one of them without warning, Amy's back lifted off the ground. A whiny whimper filled my ears. As I continued on sucking, my fingers found her pants button and zipper. Quickly, I sat up and took it off except for her thong, and I went back to my task. Her body was covered in sweat, but it felt so good having her skin on me. Urgently, her fingers entwined with my hair, and tried to push me down. I had to smile. I never knew I'd be the one giving this lovely creature pleasure. Even though her hand urged me to go further, I stopped near her stomach. I licked around her belly button and her hands flew to the side, fingernails digging deep into the mat. "Soft spot?" I mumbled, biting a bit of her skin. Her head fell to the side, mouth open, eyes dark. "Yesssssssss," she hissed. Our eyes locked, and a mischievous grin appeared on my face. I slowly went down on her, my hand traveling down her thigh. Then, I let my hand rested on her inner thigh, so very close to her crotch. I sat up and devilishly glided my fingernails up and down her inner thighs, my fingers getting nearer and nearer to her crotch. "Please!" she cried, shuddering. "Don't tease...please. I'm-I'm going to fucking e-explode!" That did it. Smiling to myself, I went to her crotch, but hesitated for a second. I've never done this to a girl before. Well, to anyone. My actions so far were all based on instincts, but I guess they were pleasing to Amy since her thong was drenched. Gulping, I put the palm of my hand on her crotch, and her hips flew up again. I had to smile. I looked at her knuckles. Ghost white as she was still gripping the mat with so much force. There were multiple scratch marks on the mat near her hands. "Oh goddddd..." she whined, her voice cracking. I didn't know what it was, but the way I was teasing her made me so hot. If it was possible, my body would be the perfect demonstration of spontaneous combustion. I loved it. I pushed the thin cloth away from her clit, and oh so slowly, I licked around and near her clit, her body thrusting everywhere. She sounded like she was hyperventilating. I took pity on her, and started sucking on her clit like a baby would with a bottle. Drops of sweat slid down her forehead, arms, stomach, everywhere. There were drops of sweat on the mats. Her cries became even more urgent, and I knew she was close to an orgasm. Smiling a bit, I decided to suck even harder, her body jerked violently. Then, her chest heaved higher and higher, her back lifted off from the ground and moaned in escatcy. Her sweet juices came out of her freely, and I greedily lapped them. "Mmmmmahhh...ugh...mmmm," she responded weakly, her body laid flat on the mats. I sat up, and looked at her carefully. She was a complete and utter mess, but she looked gorgeous laying there in front of me. She was glowing, her hair all over the place, her chest heaving normally. She looked back, tried to sit up, but ended up flopping back down. She giggled and smiled faintly, her hand reaching for me. I smiled back, grabbed her coat and mine, rolled them up in a bundle, and put it behind her head. She closed her eyes as I snuggled on her chest. "That was amazing," she said intimately, her hand stroking my hair. "We should go upstairs," I said while my finger circled around her belly button multiple times. "It's going to get cold down here soon. Plus, we're in a middle of a boxing ring." We giggled. "I can't believe we just did that," she said quietly. "I've never done that before." "Orgasm in the middle of a boxing ring?" I asked, smiling. "No," she laughed. "Doing that with a girl." Fighting For Her Ch. 04 I looked up. "Same here," I replied as I inched my way up and kissed her. "We really should go up now." "I don't want to." Smiling, I began to stand up regardless of Amy's refusal. "Nooooooooo..." she groaned, trying to pull me down again. "No, no, no, Amy," I said, laughing, pulling my hand away. "Tell you what. We go upstairs, and I'll take you somewhere special tomorrow." She lifted her hand and smiled shyly. "Special?" "Yes," I replied, holding out my hand. "Special." Biting her lower lip, she looked at me from head to toe, and took my hand. I pulled her up, and she almost fell on me. "Whoa there!" I said giggling, helping her stand up. "You okay?" "Yea," she replied. "You didn't...you didn't orgasm?" I wiped a few strands off her face, and smirked," I didn't need to. I promised to take care of you." "Hmmm..." she hummed, her head near my neck. With that, we went upstairs, and slept in each others' arms. ----------------------------------- The first thing I noticed when I woke up was this heavy weight on my chest. And the first sight I saw was Amy's face, asleep and serene. The perfect angel. Somehow, the back of her head was resting on my chest. Somewhere along the night, we ended up holding hands. They ended up on top of Amy's naked chest. I tilted my head, and smiled. I could literally stare at the sight before me for hours. Carefully trying to slip out underneath her, she stirred. "No, you don't," she mumbled as she squeezed my hand, her eyes still closed. "Good morning," I whispered. She opened her eyes and smiled wide as ever. "Hey..." she quietly said as she stretched. "Good morning to you, too." "Come on, we have to get up," I said, squirming my way out of the bed. -------------------------------------- "Where are we going?" Amy breathed, putting her hands in her coat pocket. "You'll see," I replied as I was locking up the Dojang. Smiling eagerly like a child, I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the neighborhood. It was such a beautiful morning. Fresh snow from last night hovered the streets and sidewalks. "Pamela?" Amy asked. "Is this...safe?" I looked back at her as I kept on pulling her hand. I nodded. As we walked pass the empty streets and beat up looking buildings, we stopped in front of a building called "Mama B's." "What's this?" Amy asked with a confused expression. I giggled and pulled her in the building. You see, when you first walk into "Mama B's," the first thing you'd notice is the strong smell of lilacs and the overpowering atmosphere of comfort and peace. In other words, it felt like home. The second thing you'd notice is the kids running around, ages ranging from five through eighteen year olds, but theses weren't just ordinary kids. What makes them different is that little sparkle of hope in their eyes when you look at them, that they won't let this neighborhood get to them. Instead of guns, knives, and bandanas, all you'll ever find them carrying around are pens, notebooks, and books. As Amy was looking around the nicely decorated place, a slightly overweight, middle-aged black woman emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron and carrying a bowl. She smiled brightly, the little wrinkles around her eyes deepened. "Child!" she exclaimed with her southern accent. "You 'ere early! An' you brough' a frien'!" "Mama B!" I laughed and automatically went over to her and hugged her. "I want you to meet Amy." Amy walked over to her and held a hand out," It's nice to meet you, ma'am." Mama B looked at me amusingly, and started cracking up. "Ooooo child!" Mama B said, trying to stop laughing. "You aint from aroun' 'ere! Call me Mama B, everyone calls me Mama B. I don' do shakes, child. I do hugs!" With that, she opened her arms and hugged Amy tightly. Amy looked at me, laughing. "Hey, Mama," I said. "Is it okay to show Amy around?" "O' course, child! Everyone's welcome 'ere!" I grabbed Amy's hand and pulled her upstairs. Squeezing her hand a couple of times, we went to a room full of middle schoolers. All of them were on the floor with their heads down, looking at a text book. There were multiple papers, notebooks, and books laying everywhere on the floor. Smiling, I looked at all of them and one Hispanic boy looked up, meeting my gaze. "Hey Pam," he said grinning, and multiple heads looked up at us. "Hey, Alec," I said, nodding my head at him. "What are you guys reading? Or studying?" "Calculus." "Old English Literature." "Philosophy." "Physics." "French." "Political Science." I saw Amy blink in surprise. "Have fun!" I said and pulled Amy away from the door. We passed a lot of rooms full of children, preteens and teens either chattering, reading, writing, or drawing. I stopped by a door that said "Art Room." The door was covered with green, blue, yellow paint. I slowly opened it and saw kids of different races and ages painting on their canvases. Immediately, one Asian boy with an eye patch over his right eye came running to me, screaming my name. "Pammy! Pammy! Pammy! Pammy!" He hugged me tight on my hips, and I roared in laughter. "Little Carter," I laughed, hugging him back. "What have you been up to?" "Jus' paintin'" he said with a muffled voice. He broke away and looked at Amy curiously. He went to Amy and tugged her hand. "You're pretty," he said showing his toothless smile. Amy blushed," Awww thank you! You're a handsome little boy, aren't you?" She ruffled his hair, and he giggled in reply. "Yo' gonna be here fo' awhile, Pammy?" Carter asked, tugging on my coat. "My painting's almost done, bu' you aint cant see it 'till it's all done." Squatting, I poked his stomach and he giggled. "Well," I said, "show it to me wen it's all done then. Come on, finish it." He nodded, and eagerly went to his painting station. These kids went through so much... I shook my head, stood up, and grabbed Amy's hand, leading her to the roof. ------------------------------------ "It's beautiful out here," Amy breathed, looking out from the edge of the building. "So..." "Peaceful?" I finished, walking behind her. Amy looked back at me and nodded, then walked to me. "You're not telling me something, Pamela," she said carefully, looking at me with concern. I stopped, my eyes not meeting her. I turned my head towards a bench covered with a thin layer of snow. "Come," I said, nodding to the bench. After sweeping the snow off the bench, I began telling her about "Mama B's." Mama B's real name was Betty Cathridge, and she was a victim of a serious crime: she was raped by her own father. She was abused and treated unfairly while her mother did nothing but buy drugs in the streets. Once her mother and father found out she was pregnant, she got kicked out from her house and was forced to live in the streets. She gave birth alone in an abandoned home, only to find out she had a miscarriage. That abandoned home became "Mama B's," an orphanage and a place for kids and teens to escape from their own harsh worlds and to replace it with education and arts. How she got the building and supplies weren't easy. She worked hard working odd jobs to pay for school, and worked hard to get the top grades in class. "The kids in there...they were a mess before they came here," I explained to her, gazing up at the blue sky. "Alec, the one in the study room, was a victim of abuse outside and inside his home. His parents were drug addicts, and the older kids had nothing else to do other than beat the shit out of him." "Little Carter was...was something else," I continued, breathing out unsteadily. "He almost got killed by a hang member. He was walking home from school and this guy jumped him, and ended up stabbing his eye. A bystander saw the whole thing and tried to break them apart, but the bystander got killed right in front of Carter. Luckily, he got away, but the attacker is still roaming around somewhere. But apparently, he didn't have parents. Or a family for that matter. He was living on his own until Mama B found him wandering around the neighborhood, crying and bleeding. She took him in like he was her own son. He was six years old then. That was a year and a half ago." I licked my lips and shuddered, tears beginning to form in my eyes. Amy's hand rested on my thigh. I didn't dare to look at her. "And how do you know Mama B?" she whispered. I looked down, breathed in a handful of fresh air, and told her about my family in detail. I told her how I felt, what I saw, and what I wish I didn't see. Everything. "I didn't find Mama B," I said quietly. "Mama B found me. I remember... I remember walking around the neighborhood drunk that night. I stayed at another orphanage near this neighborhood, but the owner was never home at all. So there I was, half-naked, with a beer bottle in my hand. Then there goes Mama B, walking out of a store. She let me stay the night, and a couple of weeks later, she took me in. She was the person...that showed me hope was lingering around, waiting to be noticed. It was up to us to take notice of it. She helped me realize that." I looked at her, tears freely flowing out of my puffy eyes. She looked back, her soft eyes comforting me. Looking away to wipe my tears off my face, she grabbed my chin and wiped them off herself. "I'm so sorry..." she replied softly, cupping my face. I shook my head and stood up. "This neighborhood used to be so magical," I said, looking out from the building. "Now look at it! The souls of the used-to-be-happy-going citizens vanished only to be replaced by distrust." "Not every citizen," Amy corrected, walking to me, reaching for my hand. "This city's government is not doing enough," I mumbled as I pulled her to me. "It's never enough." "I know," Amy replied. She leaned over and kissed me on the lips. ------------------------------------- ~ Watch the beauty of all our lies passing right before my eyes I hear the hate in all your words, all the wars to make us hurt We get so sick of so sick, we never wanted all this Medication for the kids with no reason to live~ (-Young by Hollywood Undead) -------------------------------------- For the next three days, we weren't two, but one. I showed her the places that were still alive, but at night, we made heartbreaking, aching love. We lost count on how many times we made each other orgasm. "I think I made you cum perhaps fifteen times for the last few nights," she whispered between kisses. "And you...I think fourteen." "You're wrong," I purred, sliding a finger into her. She let out a rugged gasp against my lips. "Mine is going to be fifteen soon." She began grinding on my finger. "That's a tie," she huskily said. "I say we need a tie breaker." But I never realized that what we had would come to a crashing end. ------------------------------------ When I woke up the next morning, I expected Amy's head on my chest, but she wasn't in bed. That's strange, I thought to myself, yawning. Lazily, I got myself out of bed and went to the kitchen. As I looked around the fridge for some milk, I couldn't help but felt that something was out of place. I walked downstairs carrying my bowl of cereal, and looked around. Nope, I thought. Nothing's missing or anything. "Amy?" I called out. Nothing. Then, I looked at the door and saw a piece of white paper taped on it. Curiously, I walked towards it as I silently munched on my breakfast. I read it: Pamela- Something came up. I'm sorry. -Amy I read the note multiple times before I let it glide through the air, softly landing on the floor. ------------------------------------- To describe myself as a bit hazy the rest of the day was an understatement. I couldn't feel anything, or if I should feel anything at all. Perhaps I was immune to be heartbroken? For any emotions? Why the fuck would she leave so suddenly, I thought to myself angrily. Why didn't she tell me in person? Mumbling to myself, I went to the convenience store to get some groceries, only to find myself extremely lonely. I felt...empty without Amy by my side. "Cut the shit," I said to myself. "Amy was...she was just a fling. I guess..." The thought depressed me even more. On the way, I mumbled to myself, arguing between pro-Amy against the anti-Amy side. But I know deep inside, through the self-denial that plastered my body, is a heartbroken girl. The sun was almost going to set, which meant I had to take a shortcut going home. I gripped my grocery bags. My coat and hat weren't enough to keep me warm, so I shivered my way home. A soft snowflake made its way to my cheek. I looked up and saw a couple more snowflakes gliding down from the sky. Today's the 23rd of December, I thought glumly to myself. My family's death anniversary. Sadly, I pushed the thought away, even though I knew it'll catch up to me later. Lethargically, I went to a nearby alley, which I always take whenever I'm in a big hurry before the sunsets. Then, I noticed at least five guys and two girls leaning against the brick building. I was about to turn around when a familiar voice said," Hey, Pam." I knew that voice anywhere. "Jeremy?" I asked, taking a few steps forward, my knuckles white from squeezing the grocery bags. "Jeremy Hepson?" A bald man with a blue bandana on his head took a couple of strides towards me, a smile on his lips. Regardless the black puffy coat with a white shirt underneath and ripped baggy pants, this man was a good man. "Pamela Anne Sanders," Jeremy said, hugging me. "How've you been, lil' girl?" "I'm not little anymore, Jer," I replied hugging him back like a little kid. Jeremy Harris is his name and he used to be my father's best friend at work. He had a wife for five years and a son, but somewhere along the way, the Red gang was involved. One of the members raped his wife, who became so distraught about the whole situation that she killed her own son and then took her own life. That was three years ago. The last thing I remembered seeing him was an argument between my dad and him, but Jeremy was too stubborn to listen. "There's a better solution that this, Jeremy!" my father shouted as Jeremy walked away from him. He disappeared like a ghost, and no one knew where he was staying. No one knew where he was or if he was still alive. And now, he's in front of me, wearing a blue bandana, meaning... "The Cobras," I hissed, looking around and taking a couple of steps back. "Tell me it isn't true, Jeremy. Tell me you didn't-" "Become a Cobra," he finished, his hands in his pockets. He looked at his friends, and shook his head. Some of them looked at me curiously. They walked away from us in order to give us some privacy. "Pa-" "No, you listen! This is bullshit! Why are you one of them!?" "Because of my family," he said firmly. "Because the cops didn't give a damn about the neighborhood or the crimes committed in it! Do you know why, Pam? Why?" I didn't answer. My glare on him heightened. "Because we ain't worth it," he breathed angrily. "Because all they see in this neighborhood are criminals and they ain't worth it. Because they would rather go to richer neighborhoods since it holds this city together, but this neighborhood? And other neighborhoods like this?" He threw his hands up in the air, and snarled. "It's just shit on the ground. It's broken multiple times, so what's the use of fixing it? Why look at shit when there's a bundle of money beside it?" He put a hand on my shoulder, but I flinched it away. "Pam," he sighed, "we are alone here. There's no police You know that..." I looked away. "Someone has to fight back-" "Like the Cobras?" I spat angrily, glaring at him again. He didn't answer. He put his hands back into his pockets and said," the Cobras have something in common: we all lost something or someone by one particular group. The Red Gang. Sometimes we got to do what we got to do, an eye for an eye. And sometimes, it ain't pretty." "Jeremy!" a booming voice shouted behind him. Jeremy and I looked at the source of the voice, and saw a man, his face bloodied and bruised, sprinting our way. Jeremy met him halfway, and I curiously walked to them. "They're outta control, man!" he gasped, leaning against the building. "The Red Gang...drunk ones. They have gasoline and lighters, guns, knives, and who knows what else. Fuck! They're burning homes and buildings, man!" "Jesus," Jeremy breathed. "Where are they now?" "Shit if I know, man," the man said, shaking his head while wiping his face with his bandana. "Last time I saw 'em, they were near that gym martial arts place." Jeremy immediately turned his head to me. I dropped my groceries and sprinted to the Dojang. "Pamela!" Jeremy's voice boomed behind me. ---------------------------------------- ~ So we march to the drums of the dammed as we come Watch it burn in the sun, we are numb~ (-Young by Hollywood Undead) --------------------------------------- Panting. I was never of a sprinter, more of a distance runner, but I pushed my legs to their limits. Tears were running down my cheeks. The sun has already set, and the temperature dropped. Please tell me it isn't so, I thought to myself desperately. Please please fucking please tell me the Dojang is alright. But once I arrived, my heart dropped on the ground, and my knees crashed onto the snow. Multiple people were around, hovering around the Dojang. The Dojang was burning, the flames engulfing every wall, every spot. Everything. The Dojang, my home, was on fire. I started weeping. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was about to ask someone if anyone called the fire department, but once I looked around, there were other buildings and homes on fire. People were panicking around me. My eyes widened and my body unconsciously sprinted again. My energy was drained, but I didn't care. Please tell me it's there, I thought to myself. I pumped my arms, passing and bumping into numerous of people. Please... Then I stopped in front of a building, and gasped. "Mama B's" was burning. "No!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, and ran inside the burning building. --------------------------------------- Heat. The walls, stairs, furniture, everything was burning. Coughing, I frantically looked around. "Hello!" I shouted, then ended up coughing. "Hello! Anyone still in here!?" Then, I tripped on something, and saw a body. The body stirred and I hoped to God it was one of the kids. I was half-right. Coughing, I stood up and tried pulling the body up, but felt a long slice on the palm of my hand. I screamed, and the body got up. It was the boy Amy and I bumped into in the alley. A Red Gang member. The boy stood firm and proud, then pushed me. My back made contact to the burning wall. Grunting, I immediately rolled on the ground, getting the fire out. It was a mess with the fire, to the boy. The smoke was getting heavier by the minute. As I was trying to get out, I saw the boy charging at me with a knife, and I successfully blocked his attack. Sort of. The tip of the knife made a wound near my hairline, and I shrieked. I palmed heel his nose multiple ties, and grabbed his knife away from him, but he didn't fall down like I hoped. Instead, he charged at me again, and I had only a half-second to react. I plunged his knife into his stomach. It seemed like time has stopped, and everything around me was falling in slow motion. There were tears in my eyes when I saw his. Empty. I saw nothing in his eyes. And I felt no remorse for him. Coughing, I stepped away, pulling the knife out, and he fell on the floor. I put the knife in my coat pocket and sprinted out of the building before the whole building was covered with flames. Fighting For Her Ch. 04 ---------------------------------------- Once I ran out, I saw the familiar faces of the kids, who were all huddled together. I ran to them and hugged them, weeping. All of us were weeping. "Where's the fire department?" I coughed. "And the police?" "They're not here yet," Alec answered unsurprised. "It's good to see you guys," I said truthfully, hugging each and every one of them. Then, I stopped. "Wh-where's Mama B?" I asked in a quiet voice, frantically looking around. "And Little Carter?" All the kids looked down. It was then I completely broke down and cried. It was then I finally heard the sirens. ---------------------------------------- ~ I see you, so please stay strong I'll sing you one last song and then I'm gone I don't wanna live this destiny, it goes on endlessly~ (-This Love, This Hate by Hollywood Undead) --------------------------------------- I didn't sleep the rest of the night. All I did was sit on the curb, watching. Just watching the house before me. The firemen came here too late. Too fucking late. The tears I've wept seemed endless. The kids and some hospitable authorities suggested on staying with them for a couple of days, but I lied and told them that I'll be staying at my uncle's house. As for the paramedics, I refused to let them touch me. I don't know where Mike was or if he's even going to come back. He hasn't answered my 100 missed calls for the past couple of hours. I felt alone. As I was hugging myself for warmth, I felt something sharp in my coat pocket. The knife. Closing my eyes, I let out a puff of fresh air as I realized fully that I killed someone. My body shook from the cold and guilt. "You okay?" a familiar voice beside me said. "I killed someone tonight," I said with uncertainty. "A Red Gang member...I killed him in there." I nodded to the burnt house of Mama B. The figure squatted in front of me, and a bruised Jeremy faced with concern. "How do you feel about that?" I looked at him square in the eyes. "I felt no remorse." He nodded and sniffed, he got a small rag out from his coat pocket, and tried wiping my face, but I waved it away. "You're blee-" "I'm fine," I firmly snapped. "I'm fine." He nodded again, stood up, and put a hand on my back. "You know where to find me if you need me," he said and walked away, leaving me sitting on the curb alone. ------------------------------------------ After attempting to clean myself up, I took a train to downtown Chicago, hoping to find someone to help my neighborhood somehow. Anyone. As I hopped off, I began searching for someone important enough to hopefully give a message to the authorities or the government people. My neighborhood was getting worse. I searched and searched, got kicked out of office buildings and restaurants, and begged for food since I forgot to eat anything up to that point. No one saw me. Instead, they looked through me like a ghost begging to be heard. A nice old couple was nice enough to buy me a meal from McDonald's, which I was extremely grateful for. But other than that, no one cared about the girl with her half burnt coat full of ashes, her gray face, and bandaged hand. No one cared. Before I knew it, it was almost six. I spent at least nine hours searching downtown, but my hands returned empty. I was cold, miserable, and still hungry. As I was walking to the train station, a group of teens came out of a French restaurant called "Tru." These weren't just ordinary teens for they looked incredibly handsome and gorgeous, not to mention rich judging from their jewelries, dresses, and tuxes. "Maybe they can help," I mumbled tiredly as I approached them. Taking a couple steps towards them, a red headed girl looked at me from head to toe, and nudged her other friends. "Please," I began to say, "I need help." "I'm sure you do," the red head scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Listen, sweetie, there's a nice homeless shelter a couple of blocks fro-" "Please!" I begged desperately, my hands clamping together. "Something terrible happened and-" I became speechless, my eyes widened. Coming out from the restaurant was Amy, laughing and clutching a guy's arm. Amy, in a long, beautiful green gown, her hair up and made, was right there in front of me. As she turned her head and made eye contact to me, she stopped laughing. "Thank god you're here!" I said, my voice shaking. "They burned the Dojang, Amy, and Mama B's place too-" "Whoa," the guy next to her said, his green eyes looking curiously at her. "How does this rat know your name?" Rat? "Disgusting, I got to say," another girl said, frowning disapprovingly. "And the smell? Yeech. Look at its clothes! It looks like its occupation is a chimney sweeper!" It? Chimney sweeper? "Whoa..." another guy said, looking carefully at me. "Is that...blood?" Panicked, I wiped my face, then my forehead, and sure enough there was blood. I thought it already dried, but I guess something triggered the wound to start bleeding again. I gave Amy a pleading look. "Please, you gotta h-h-help me," I said in tears. "They took everything away from me." Slowly, all heads turned to Amy, who was looking at me intensily. Her jaw started moving, but then looked at her friends. She looked at me with those green eyes, but something was different. The eyes weren't Amy's at all. "I'm sorry," she said matter-of-factly," I have never met you before nor do I know how you got my name. You probably have mistaken me for someone else." She cleared her throat and my heart went numb. "There's a shelter not too far from here," she continued, her eyes broke away from mine. "They can help you. I don't think we can help you any further than that." "Yea," the guy with deep blue eyes and black hair next to her said. "And judging from that blood on your forehead and bandaged hand, I don't think we want to be involved, right hun?" Grinning, her reached over and grabbed Amy's chin, then kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back, then broke away, smiling. There was guilt written all over her face. I can't believe what's going on. That little-! "Hey, sweetie," the redhead said," why don't you scram?" I glared at Amy, and anger took over my body. I sniffed, turned around, and walked to the train station. All I can think of during the ride home was Amy. Amy and how I felt utterly betrayed. ------------------------------------------ ~This love, this hate is burning me away~ (This Love, This Hate by Hollywood Undead) -------------------------------------------- It was the dead of night when I arrived. Home, sweet home, I thought to myself. It began snowing again, but that didn't matter. Loud music, gunshots, a couple shouting inside a home, a baby crying. My mind was set. I took a turn and went through a familiar alley. As expected, I found a group of people there. A lone figure took notice of my presence as I walked even nearer. Jeremy. I got the bloodied knife out from my pocket and looked at it carefully. The other members of the Cobras walked towards me, but Jeremy motioned them to stay still. Jeremy went even nearer, his face came in focus, his gray eyes looking at me. My blood, at that moment on, ran throughout my body carrying two things in replacement of oxygen. Hatred and revenge. I took a deep breath, determinedly looked at Jeremy, and whispered: "I want in." ---------------------------------------- ~ We are young, we have heart Born in this world as it all falls apart We are strong, we don't belong Born in this world as it all falls apart.... ...We will fight or we will fall till the angels save us all~ (-Young by the Hollywood Undead) -------------------------------------------- To be continued...