Fighting, Surviving, & Hopelessly Lost

Chapter 3

"Juliet! Sweetie over here!" my aunt called as she saw me walking through the sea of people. I had no idea how she recognized me. I was wearing my old sneakers, jean shorts, and tank top, and one of those caps that I always wore backwards. It had a Keep Calm and Fight On saying which fit me perfectly. My hair was down which was pretty rare considering ninety percent of my life is fighting and training so I always tied my hair up. I finally saw my aunt come into view. She was wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, and cowboy boots. Her greying hair was up in a bun.

"Aunt Hanna! It's so good to see you again!" I forced out. She embraced me in a tight hug and when she let go, she sighed loudly.

"You have grown so much! I barely recognized you. And look how fit you are. What sport do you do honey?" she asked.

"I uh, do street fighting," I squeaked.

"Oh that's cool. I'm glad you're here! Let's go, I want you to get settled so you can go down to the lake," Hanna said.

"Oh um, Aunt Hanna. I don't really like the water." After what happened with Gabe, I was scared to even look at large bodies of water.

"Well I can show you the horses and farm. And Juliet, honey, you can call me Hanna. Aunt Hanna makes me sound old," she joked. She lead me out of the airport and we hopped into her truck. "I live only fifteen minutes away so the ride shouldn't be that bad," Hanna said. I just nodded my head in understanding while I looked out the window. Wyoming wasn't really a country state. It was more tribal with forests and national parks such as Yellowstone. But my aunt did own a farm and so did some of her good friends.

Once we arrived at her house, I hopped out of the car to grab my suitcase from the back. Hanna lead me into the house which was actually pretty big.

"Your bedroom is the last one on the right," Hanna said as she closed the door behind us. I walked up the stairs and down the hall until I reached the last room. I opened the door and was greeted by a room that could fit in my living room in my house in Iowa. I had my own full sized bed, a desk with a comfy looking chair, a big closet, a shelf with pictures, drawers for my clothes, and my very own bathroom. I was amazed by this. My room in Iowa was half the size of the bathroom. I set my suitcase down by the foot of my bed and headed down to the kitchen.

"Hanna, I'm going down to town. Is my BMX bike in the shack?" I asked.

"Wow, I'm surprised you still remember about that old thing. But yes it's still there," Hanna replied. I brought my hair up as my hair was bothering me like crazy. As I turned around, Hanna gasped. "Juliet! What happened?" she exclaimed. Crap. I shouldn't have put my hair up. Scars and bruises littered my entire back, shoulders, and arms. My cheek was covered up with makeup so that was good.

"Um, nothing. I uh, fell on some rocks," I said quickly. "I'll see you later Hanna!" I ran out of the house and into the shack. There I found my old BMX bike leaning against the side of the shack. I also found my dad's old jacket too. Regardless of the warm whether I put it on and I rode of. My brother taught me a few tricks on this bike and I was so happy when I got it for my 12th birthday, before all the bad things happened. I rode of to the town that was about twenty minutes away but it took me half of that time. The real reason I wanted to come to town was because I wanted to find the Wyoming fighting team. Town wasn't that big anyways. One small mall, schools, a couple of stores, an old theater, and a park or two. I rode down the main street and turned to the left in hope of finding the building. After a few minutes of pointless riding, I came across a pretty big abandoned building. There were only several cars parked in the lot so I figured this was the place. I placed my bike in the bushes and walked over to the door. I could faintly hear the sounds of weights, yelling, grunting, and footsteps. I didn't waste any time and I pushed the door open. Inside, I saw a bunch of young guys, aging anywhere from fourteen to twenty. They were all exercising, lifting, running, and having small duels on mats. Some stopped and gave me weird stares, some whispered to their neighbors and pointed at me. I ignored all of their stares and walked to the man standing in an expensive suit. He turned around and raised his eyebrows. He looked no older than 25.