Wherever it takes us.

My uncle gives me a suprise test.

"Breath," I murmur under my breath; as I stare at the old man."Let's finish up these exercises." He tells me as I drop a boulder that must have been at least two times my weight. My shoulders creaked painfully; as I took deep breaths to steady myself.

We stood in front of the house with the slight breeze from the nearby forest, which helped cool the sweat dripping off my face. My shirt was now officially a darker shade of white, and my army green shorts looked like I had gone for a swim. In front of me stood my uncle, barely breaking a sweat: you could even say he looked like he was taking a stroll. Since he was from the military, he taught me the way he would have trained a recruit.

After what felt like years but was a few minutes, I slowly walked towards him, attempting to walk the best I could with my legs being scarily similar to my mother's jelly.

"Any chance we can stop right now?" I ask, "I may collapse at this rate." He laughs at me and responds, "You always say that." "Anyway, let us have a look...." He checks his notes while I practice how to breathe oxygen. "Yep, we're almost done." He informs me, "You need to rest a while, then partake in your daily sparring; with yours truly." Compelling me to release a groan. "You know, after all this time, I thought you'll be used to all this." He asks, his voice not hiding his evident disappointment. I look over at him to throw him a glare, "You know...maybe it's because... you keep raising the difficulty: the second I adjust." I spat out with my body still getting up to speed: to which he responds, "I have no idea what you're talking about." After a few moments, I glanced at my uncle, lowering himself to the ground with his one eye scouring the environment.

I took this silence as a quiet break and maybe time to reflect. The more time I spent here, the more respect I had for Uncle Ben. He hurled random activities at me the second I was bored, telling me, "an idle mind is the playground of the devil." I slowly understood what he meant: There were days random waves of sadness would wash over me and remind me how weak I was on my birthday, from sadness to anger. Angry that my uncle and I were in this tangle in the first place: forcing me one time to slam the ground in frustration and another to release a river on my bed. Uncle Ben would walk into my room on said nights and tell me random stories or even talk. He once dragged my sorry butt for exercises,

I owe him way more than he believes.

"Alright, the break's over," He said as he stood up while stretching slowly. He takes a few steps to give some distance before spinning around on his back heel to face me. "Yeah, yeah..." I say as I get up as well. I knew this drill all too well. "Let's get this over with," I mutter, dropping my body to its fighting stance. "The rules are simple!!" He roars, causing me to flinch slightly, even scaring the birds around us. "Since we're both spent, it'll simply be the first person who hits the ground." He informs me while slightly staring at me intently, looking for something. I nod my head in response, prepping my mind. Another thing I'm grateful for that my uncle gave me,

Fighting.

According to my uncle: "Fighting is simply another way of expressing oneself, a simple yet dangerous form of art." For some reason, I preferred this art class over painting classes with aunt Lucy back then. The more I learned from my uncle, the more I understood that I enjoy fighting much more than I thought possible. I could release all my pent-up frustration with a few kicks. It helped me adjust to my bizarre lifestyle and provided an escape from reality at times. Anyway.

Alright, now to approach this.

My uncle stood in front of me with his stance lowered and his sight leveled at me.

I take a deep breath and calm my mind by listening to the croaking of our amphibian spectators. Why am I nervous? I thought before dashing towards him, closing the distance in mere seconds, and simultaneously preparing my mind to land the first hit. I instantly regretted my poor decision-making as I felt a gut-wrenching punch that felt all too familiar. The oxygen instantly fled my lungs as I took a step back.