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𝙄𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨, the female protagonist always steels herself. It's a natural reaction when she wants to crumble. It's a natural reaction to something horrible when other people are watching. It's what strong, badass warriors do—they transform their bodies into steel.
That's the thing, though. Steeling yourself isn't a natural reaction of the strong, it's a conscious choice that requires follow through. It's not a reflex. It's Ripley coming face to face with a Xenomorph, or Katniss when she volunteers to replace Prim. Turning your body to steel isn't natural. It starts as a thought in your head, and your heart and body have to agree to the terms.
When a 230 pound guy flops down on your stomach, you gotta steel yourself just to brace for the impact. Back slightly raised, core tight, and arms taught. You know it'll hurt but you need to make it look like you damn near died. I go limp on impact and he hooks my leg for the pin because I'm so small, nothing else would make sense apparently.
A low, resounding "ooh!" comes from the boys around the outside of the ring a half second after impact.
My boot lace is untied and I try not to care.
Peter's somewhere downtown getting the shit beat out of him. Maybe dying. I cannot care.
The counting spikes my anxiety, especially when I don't know how fast our stand-in ref counts. His hand strikes the mat and it's a hollow sound, reminding me that Claudio never put down the stupid foam when they built this ring, the practice ring as opposed to the bigger, slightly better made ring in the old theater down the street. At least that one had a layer of foam.
Getting out of bed in the morning might be a challenge, but that's an issue for tomorrow's me — and probably forty year old me.
"One!"
Pause.
"Two!"
Oh, thank god. No fast counts today.
This is when I steel myself. It's a snap decision because it has to be. It always has to be. The guy pinning me mumbles something I don't catch, and I tense every muscle in my body. I remember that today I am more than myself.
"Thr-"
My arm and shoulder shoot off the mat and, for a moment, as the fifty-odd people gasp and cheer, I'm not some orphan to feel sorry for or a name on a file. I'm not a klepto, or a haphazard nurse, or the color commentary to someone else's story.
I am a motherfucking phoenix.
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YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐇!𝐓 ▪ peter parker ¹
FanficFoster kid Emilia Pérez is placed in a shiny new family and will be starting at a new school, but always finds her way back to her only home after the tragic passing of her parents years ago - the wrestling ring. Until a stranger falls through the c...
