Hana Saleh's life was a symphony of tradition and quiet contentment. At 20, she was a tapestry woven with the threads of her faith: the warmth of family dinners, the gentle rustle of her hijab as she walked through the bustling streets of New York...
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——————————————————————————— "Huff...Huff..." I kept going, this wasn't the time for me to stop.
"Huff.." I grunted.
In the dimly lit gymnasium, the rhythmic thud of leather striking flesh echoed through the air. I sparred effortlessly against a burly opponent. Each punch carried the weight of my formidable reputation.
"One! Two!" The ringleader starts to count down my victory.
"Nine! Ten!" As the round ended, I emerged triumphant, my opponent sprawled on the canvas.
I exit the ring, strolling to the changing rooms where i'm ushered by my first hand man and best friend, Luca.
"What a match." He laughs as he leans on one of the lockers.
"You left him battered and unconscious, that's the reputable of the mafia boss."
I look at him and scoff.
"It felt like i was fighting a mere teenage boy. No sense of power or stamina, I wasted my energy on a stupid fight." I saw the look on Luca's face as he shrugged his shoulders. I button my black shirt and left the last two around my chest. A singular rose tattooed on my chest, reminding me of the length I had to achieve to where I got from now.
"They say, they found the man." Luca says casually and my eyes quickly darted to his.
"Is this true?" I look at him impatiently. I was ready to tear the head off the man I have been searching for. 3 long years I waited and I was finally getting the revenge I deserved.
"Yeah, apparently he moved to New York. Got a whole life there with his two kids." My face furrowed. This man was living a happy life while I was waiting for the day I could watch the life slowly decline from his eyes.
"New York huh?" I let out a sneer. "I guess it's finally time to pay our dear friend a visit. Get the plane ready for 9 sharp." Luca nodded his head and left the room.
I control my breathing by thinking of the things I like. Guns, violence, money. Yeah, just a few more days and i'll have the man begging me on his knees.
As I grab my bag, my opponent from the match stands before me. "Look who woke up." I snorted but freeze as his left hand goes for a swing. I dodge, grabbed his face and smashed it on the wall. I felt the warm sensation of blood oozing down my hands. This is what i needed. The feeling of someone else being hopeless in front of me.
