Last match

One

I pop another ibuprofen into my mouth  sending a silent prayer that this one would work, my latest match bruised me badly, i rub my finger tips along my temple, with a painful wince. I could already feel a headache coming on. today simply was not my day.

This was just another misfortune I've had through the years, due to being an underground boxer.
I knew of the precautions before i signed up, but fuck.

The guy I had went up against tonight was huge his physic was bulky, it wasn't  a natural kind that you get from working out a lot though , I'm was more than sure that he took steroids to get to the way that he was, which should be against the rules, but then again there's no rules to underground fighting which was already illegal within itself.

Sure this time I reigned victorious but at what cost. Mom's going to see me and bombard me with an absurd amount of questions , questions I have the answers to, but just can't tell her, Lying my way out won't work this time. This was hands down the worst beating I've taken throughout my career, in the past two years i would walk away free of bruises, with the exception of the tiny ones below the neck, that could easily be covered with baggy clothes.

'The stores are most likely closed right now' I checked my watch, that confirmed my thoughts. the time read 1:56 am. I won't be able to get the makeup to cover the visible bruises, which I had already known, most likely littered my face, after all it's the first thing I felt once the adrenaline wore off. i have yet to look in a mirror, but from the pain alone, I could tell I was in bad shape I walked into the ladies room, sitting in one of the unoccupied stalls.

'Mom cant see me like this' I pulled my phone out of the pocket of the pants I had just changed into. Tapping on mom's contact, and waited for the ringing to stop.

"Hey mom" I said sheepishly when the call was answered.

"Baby where are you it's late?" mom's southern worried filled voice spoke through the speakers.

"I'm not going to be home tonight I'm closing today " i lied biting the skin around my nails, a bad habit I use to cope whenever I'm lying to mom.

"So you're going to be late coming in right?" Mom asks completely ignoring the part, when I said I wouldn't be back.

"It going to be late by the time I'm done" I looked at my now bleeding fingers trying to collect which words to say that would make mom feel more at ease.

" I was thinking about staying the night at Angela's since it's closer to my job, I'll be back in the morning I promise."

'Another lie'

Truth be told I don't have any friends, Angela was a twisted truth, I am staying at Angela's but it's a not an acquaintance's home like I made her think it was. It's a name of a motel that's close to the ring I fight at, And the perfect place for me to seek refuge tonight until the stores reopen.

She sighs before telling me to be safe, we exchanged love you's, and she eventually hangs up, I run my fingers through my tight coils throwing my hair into a quick messy bun I was beyond stressed, lying to mom, it gets harder each time.

I take a deep breath, ready to finally inspect the damage that has been done .
Looking in the mirror, It was worse than I expected. My right eye was swollen to the point that it was nearly shut, it had already began turning a dark plum color,my lips were chapped and busted, and a lastly a deep gash sat upon my cheek, below the un swollen eye.

I wasn't in the mood to deal with my injuries  at the moment, I exited the bathroom with the duffle bag full of cash that I had earned for the night, and made my way out the back of this dingy building.

The cold air nipped my skin while I walked, it felt great. It numbed the aches from all the cuts and bruises. My walk was cut short when I heard a familiar voice.

"god Celeste you look horrible" they all but screamed, the shrill in her voice only aided in giving me a bigger headache. It was the local prostitute named cinnamon, that for some reason always sought me out to make conversation.

"Gee thanks how sweet of you to say" I reply sarcastically which earned me an eye roll on her end

"Seriously I mean it, you gotta be more careful hon" she says in all seriousness.

'Here I was getting lectured by a prostitute this is a new low'

" what do you think your mom would say she's going to eventually figure out what's going on" she nags.

I was beginning to regret opening up to her about my home life.

"You know I need the money cinnamon" I groan hoping she won't meddle any further.
She nods her head before walking back to the corner she was working.

'Thank God'
All I wanted was a hot shower, and maybe a decent nap.

As soon as I made it to the motel, and booked a room, I threw my winnings down, and jumped on the first item of furniture I saw, which happened to be a broken down couch, my leg banged against a piece of wood that stuck out of the arm rest, sending a painful jolt through where it had been touched. Yet a sigh of relief still escaped, because I knew that soon I won't have to do this anymore, and all this will just be a bad memory. That thought was enough to lull me to sleep.