|Sparks Fly| A Hawk/Sam Fanfiction

Chapter 63: Catharsis & Conversations

*Eli's P.O.V*

Man, it was like the weight of the world was on my shoulders as I swung my fists at that punching bag. Each punch, a release of the pain and sadness that consumed me after the breakup with Sam. Thoughts of our time together, the laughter, the love, it all swirled in my mind. But now, it's all shattered. I couldn't help but wonder what went wrong, what I could have done differently. The bag absorbed the force of my punches, but it couldn't take away the ache in my heart.

With each strike, I could feel the anger and frustration building up inside me. How could something so beautiful and promising turn into such a painful mess? I thought we had something special, something that would last. But now, all I have are memories and a broken heart. The rhythmic thuds of my fists hitting the bag echoed the rhythm of my thoughts, a constant reminder of what I've lost.

As I continued to punch, a mix of emotions flooded over me. Sadness, confusion, and even a tinge of resentment. I couldn't help but question myself. Was I not good enough? Did I do something wrong? The pain in my knuckles served as a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil I was experiencing.

But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope. A small voice inside me whispered that this pain would eventually fade, that I would heal and find happiness again. So, I kept punching, not only to release my pent-up emotions but also to remind myself that I am strong, resilient, and capable of moving forward.

Then I started to kick the punching bag.

As I kicked that punching bag, I could feel the power surging through my legs. Each kick, a manifestation of my frustration and anger. The bag swung back and forth, absorbing the impact of my blows. It was like a dance, a fierce battle between me and my emotions.

But after a while, exhaustion started to creep in. My muscles were burning, and my throat felt parched. I knew I needed to rehydrate. So, I took a break, grabbed a water bottle, and took a long, refreshing drink. The coolness of the water washed away the sweat and helped me regain some energy.

It felt good to take a moment and catch my breath. The combination of the intense workout and the emotional release left me feeling both physically and mentally drained. But I knew deep down that this was just a small step towards healing. I had to keep pushing forward, one punch, one kick, and one day at a time.

"Eli?" I heard my mom's soft voice from upstairs.

I'm currently in my basement and that's where I put the punching bag at. So that I'm able to have some privacy if I'm training.

"I'm down here mom." I yelled out so that she knows where I'm at.

As I caught my breath, I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. I turned my head and there she was, my mom, Lydia, with a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of concern and pride as she took in the scene before her.

She walked over to me, her steps light and graceful. I could feel her warmth and love enveloping me as she reached out to touch my sweaty shoulder.

"Eli, my dear," she said softly, "I see you've been giving that punching bag quite a workout."

Her voice was filled with a mix of admiration and motherly concern. She knew how important it was for me to release my emotions in a healthy way, but she also wanted to make sure I was taking care of myself. With a gentle nod, she handed me a fresh water bottle, her eyes conveying the message that hydration was just as important as the release of pent-up energy.

She also must've figured that I was still thirsty after my workout and gave me another water bottle.

I took the water bottle gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing that she was always there to support me, both physically and emotionally. In that moment, as I drank the cool water, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for my mom and the unwavering love she showed me, even in the simplest of moments.