BOBCAT// Logan Howlett

CHAPTER ONE

Year 2000

The dirtiest white boys in America all surrounded me while I took a swig of a beer in a can. They were all chanting for the 6'6'' 300 pound man to beat the shit out of me. It wouldn't happen and everybody knows it. They were about to lose money.

"You gonna let a lil girl beat you?" I taunted the man, setting my beer down and straightening out my shoulders. "C'mon bub let's do it," I motioned him forward with my fingers which he took as an invitation.

The man ran into the metal cage, to which I attacked from behind. My fist made one contact with his skull and he was out like a light. Falling down in front of me. This was just the first of four fights.

"My my," the announced said as the man was getting dragged off the ring. "I think we made a match for ourselves." He motioned another filthy white up into the ring.

"Alright, you get the first hit." I smiled with teeth as the man hit me square in the face.

Blood ran through my teeth as I bumped back and hit him as he hit me. He stumbled black a ways and regained his balance. This one would be more of a challenge. He's leaner with more muscle mass.

"Think you're cute, don't ya?" The man said, to which I rolled my eyes and hit him square in the jaw and knocked him to the floor with one hit.

I spit the blood out onto the floor and walked out of the cage. Everybody watched, even the announcer.

"I need a drink." I told the man.

"But you got two more-" he interrupted me.

"I need a fuckin drink." We made eye contact and that was all he needed to let me go down to the bar and get a drink.

I sat down, tapping the wood counter for another drink. The man put down a shot glass and poured vodka in it. I didn't like vodka, and I couldn't touch the glass.

"Got a cup you could put that in?" I asked him. His eyebrows rose.

"Just take the shot?" He told me.

"Can't drink out of it," I paused, thinking of a good excuse. "Religious reasons."

He grabbed a solo cup from underneath the counter and poured another shot into the cup. It burned my throat when I drank it, but it was all I needed for the buzz to keep coming in.

In the ring again, my vision was blurry. Everything was spinning but just enough I still had focus on what was going on around me.

The lanky man swung at me and I fell to my hands and knees. Another blow to the sternum and it was my call to get back up and knock him on his knee.

One he was on his knees, another shot to the head and he was out like a light. I wanted to be done.

"Any more for Theis?" The announcer asked the crowd.

A man with darker hair and a scruffy beard started walking towards the ring. His eyes were dark and his bike was good. He didn't have any cuts or bruises anywhere.

Something came over me. I knew I wouldn't win and I wanted out. He would fucking kill me. He would kill me if I could die.

"No more. I'm tired." I told the announcer.

"Oh? She's tired, she says!" He laughed and looked around at all the other people.

I walked down and to the bar, sitting in my usual spot towards the corner. The man began to fight in the ring and I started to drain everything out with liquor. I didn't like fighting.

I fought because it's the only thing I'm good at. I'm good at absorbing pain and treating people like they don't matter. I didn't enjoy it at all. All I wanted was to go to college, get my degree in journalism and make a name for myself. All I am now is a traveling bum.

I still remember the night everything happened. I remember how my sister jumped in front of me, I remember my mothers scream of agony minutes before everything changed. I remember the revolver going off 9 times in one night. I remember everything vividly.

The fighting man sat a couple seats away from me, and I paid no attention to him at all. I was drunk and I knew it. It would wear off in minutes, but the buzz was good while it lasted. My body didn't tolerate liquor like most people's. I would have a low tolerance for life.

"I think you owe me my money back." A guy tapped on my shoulder, sobering me up and getting me out of my trance almost immediately.

I smiled, looking down and taking another drink out of the solo cup. "Blow me."

"C'mon dude. She's not worth it. Let's get outta here." His friend tried to pull him away, and I just sat there like nothing was happening.

"Nobody takes a beating like that and doesn't leave without a mark." He walked back up behind me. "Where's the money?"

I smiled once again. "In my ass. Why don't you dig it out, broke boy." I didn't even look at him as I said it. My back was turned.

"Bitch got a real mouth on her." His laughter faded as he started to walk away, but I've been through this a million times.

He pulled a knife from his pocket and lunged at me. I could his fist with my bare hands, looking him straight in the eyes. "I thought I told you to blow me?" And pushed him back into his friend.

"Now, you've lost some money, don't lose anything else would ya?" I sat back down and finished my drink.

"I know what you are." The man whispered in my ear.

I turned around and sat up, raising my eyebrows at the man. "Really?" I walked towards them. "What am I? Huh?" My voice was calm and collected even though I wanted to rip their heads off.

"Why don't you back the hell off?" The man from the bar got up and was now standing beside me. "You lost some money, so what?"

"Oh my fucking god." I mumbled, hitting one man upside the head to the ground.

He fell. His friend was about to pounce when the foot long glass knives emerged from my knuckles. The dark haired man looked confused, and the other two looked scared shitless.

"Be careful with who you fuck with." I retracted the knives and looked at the bartender. "I'll see myself out."

Walking into the snow I felt cold as ever. My heart was beating out of my chest and I couldn't get air in my lungs like I usually could. My head was spinning and all I wanted was a warm place to sleep.

"Hey!" I turned around and it was the man from the bar, still looking confused and curious. "You need a ride?"