Roll with the Punches

Chapter 1

I missed this feeling the feeling of being where I loved, of knowing how powerful I am here, of the damage I can do. People underestimate me, they think because of my size that I'm weak. Well let me tell you they couldn't be more wrong. They don't think that I know what I'm doing, they think I'm some silly little girl that is trying to recreate her fathers dream but that's not it at all, I do what I do because it's what I love, what I'm good at, and it's what runs through my veins, it's the only thing I've ever know, and I will continue until everyone who ever doubted me knows my name, knows how hard I worked and knows my story, because let me tell you my story isn't like any other teenage girls story, not what you would expect, but it's my story that makes me, me..

It started from the day I was born, I watched my father ad my uncle do something that they loved, something that they were good at and something that people knew them for. It's a tradition you see, a tradition that didn't even cease when I was born. You are probably wondering why that would make a difference, the thing is it's a boy's tradition. No girl in the family had joined in on the family legacy, but my father said that from the first minute he saw me with my little hand curled up he knew that I was meant to continue the legacy.. I was meant to be a fighter, and a great fighter at that just like my father, and his brother and their father before them, it's what I was born to do, and damn was I good at it.

On my 6th birthday my father handed me a pair of boxing gloves, and I knew what it meant, it was time, my time to join the family legacy. Nobody expected little me to be as good as I was, but from the first time I threw my first punch my family knew I had the gift and they made sure to look after this gift with all their heart as they knew that there would come a day when my gift would be needed and not just in a competition, but in life to protect the ones I love.

My father trained me 4 times a week in my uncles gym, that was around the corner from our house. He made me so good that at age 7, exactly a year after I picked up my first pair of boxing gloves that I started fighting in competitions. I had never lost a match, and to this day I still haven't and I thank my father for that because I had beaten everyone my age around my area, including boys, I moved up to older age groups, meaning that at age 7, I was fighting people aged 9 to 12, boys and girls. This continued on for years I would always fight a few years ahead of me. So at age 12 I was fighting 16 year old boys and winning. But by age 12 I stopped fighting, not for what you probably think like I got injured or just got bored with it, no not because of something like that at all. The reason is because on November 22nd at 11:23pm my while world flipped upside down and I couldn't face looking at anything to do with boxing again.

That night was my father comeback into the world of fighting, he had been gone for 15 years and he believed that his time had come to get back in the ring. People called him Roberto "El toro" Rodriquez. He was strong and powerful, and made any man scared of him. People feared my father but not me, to me he was the man who taught me to walk, held my hand while we crossed the street, taught me to ride a bike and most importantly to fight. He wiped my years when I was sad, but then told me to straighten up because I was his little soldier. That night my father was fighting a man that had been forever trying to beat him in the ring, we knew that he had been waiting for this moment to beat my father, but we also know that my father wouldn't let that happen or so we thought. As my father walked to the ring the crowd shouted "El toro" as people clapped and cheered for my hero.

We knew that my fathers opponent was a dirty fighter, but we never thought that anything would happen, never thought that he would pull a knife out of the waist band of his boxing shorts and stab my father, but he did. I ran into the ring and kneeled down bedside my father as the ambulance was on its way from the nearest hospital. I held his hand as he looked into my eyes and said to me "baby girl, roll with the punches" he slowly closed his eyes and took his last breath.
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This is a short story I'm writing hope you guys like it! Please let me know what you guys think :3