Sorry I'm Not Her

Chapter Two

"If you ever dream of beating me, you'd better wake up and apologize." - Muhammad Ali

Present: 2018

The sound of water dripping rang through the dark and dreary alley. Anyone would think that this place was the meeting of gangs or that it was where drug lords waited. And they were right; this is the place where mischievous people go.

These big, buffed men don't bring tears to my eyes. Their shining knives and loaded pistols don't mean anything to me. Because I know that somewhere in their isolated, cold hearts, there is truly someone they are protecting. Someone they love so much they are willing to sacrifice their life. And that's the difference between us.

A man wearing a biker jacket lunges at me. I dodge around him and elbow him in the head. The impact caused him to smash his face on the floor, busting his lips in the process.

One down, four more to go.

I grabbed a shard of glass off the ground and walked up to two guys standing closest to me. It was like fencing. I brought the glass towards him and they bounce back. I charged towards them and they ran forwards, ready to flip me over, but I'm not going down just yet. I surprise them and arch my back, missing the hit and punch them both in the groin. They doubled over and landed not far from the guy before.

Three down, two more to go.

A man with a long scar down the side of his face ran towards me. I dodge his arm and kick him in the legs, intending to knock him over. But my leg never contacted with his. He jumped before I could hit him. Fully aware, he draws a weapon out and slashes right across my arm. All along he had a knife hidden in his sleeves. Why am I not surprised?

It burnt like hell and blood was quickly soaking everything. I turned my arm over to spot the wound.

"The heck, man," I said to the man with the scar, "Now I have to deal with the hoe's bitching. Look what you did." I slowly turn my arm back around. I didn't clutch my wound because I knew if I did, he would know it hurt.

"How am I going to get this out now?" I said mockingly. He stares at me annoyed, like I was messing with him.

"I could always spare you the bitch and send you right to Hell." The man had a scruffy voice. He steps towards me, ready to send another slash towards my arm.

"Well, you've got to hit me first," I said using my good arm to twist his arm around and stabbed him in the back with his own knife.

Pathetic.

Four down, one to go.

I watched as the last man stood cowering in the corner. His faced told me he did not want to find out what I would do to him.

I marched towards him, letting my injured arm fall at my side. With a finger, I forced him forward. He slowly followed and crawled forwards. I yanked at the collar of his shirt and pulled him close to meet his eye level.

"Next time you try targeting a poor girl," I spat as I pouted my lips impersonating a tiny good girl, "It would be best if you attacked her all at once rather than one at a time."

I slowly got up dropping him to the ground.

"It's just smarter that way," I said as I started making my way out the alley. Before I left, I turned around to look at him and his group one more time. His friend decided to stand up at that moment earning a stomp, pushing him back down to the concrete.

"But if I were you, I wouldn't try it though."