Before I met you

Chapter 2: Training

My fist made contact with the flour-sack-like punching bag for the hundredth time. Dust puffed out from the bag. I just froze, not moving a muscle. It was almost as if my fist was glued to the punching bag. The sweat trickled down my forehead and onto the dirt below me as I just stood there panting. 

"Good, Annie," My father said, circling around me. "good if you want to get yourself killed." I groaned and stepped away from the punching bag. I looked down at my hands, staring contently at my bruised knuckles. I'd been training for five hours straight now. But it wasn't just today, it was everyday since before I could remember. 

"Annie!" My father yelled, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

"Sorry, father." I mumbled, straitening myself. He let out an annoyed sigh. "Do it again."

I gritted my teeth together, not bothering to talk back. I approached the punching bag. I squeezed my eyes shut as I threw another punch at the thing. My knuckles stung from punching it over and over and over again. I screamed as I punched the bag once more. The pain was like nothing I'd ever felt before in my nine years. 

"Stop complaining, you'll go through worse pain in your life, especially if you don't shape up."

"Shut up!" I screamed at him. My eyes widened at my actions. I'd never screamed at my father before. And I screamed two words at my father that you where never supposed to scream at your parents. His expression changed from a rock solid angry expression, to a softened surprised look. 

"Excuse me-"

"Just shut up! I don't understand why you want me to do this!" I took a step back as he approached me. The tree behind me kept me from running away. 

"Listen, Annie, you have an extremely important mission ahead of you, that's what you're training for... do you not understand the consequences of this?" My father asked, bending down to me and placing his strong hands on my shoulders.  

"I can't do this!" I screamed, tears brimming in my eyes. "I could never do this on my own! I don't understand why you think that I could! I don't even want to do this whole mission thing, and I don't understand why you want me to!" He looked hurt. The look on his face at that moment was like nothing he'd ever looked like before. A twinge of regret sparked in me, but it was quickly replaced with the anger I felt towards my father. 

"Well..." He looked at the ground, avoiding my gaze. "I'm sorry to hear that." He stood back up and turned away from me. 

"I thought that you'd want to carry out my one wish for you... but I guess that I was wrong." His last words hung in the air as he walked back to the house. The sound of the slamming door echoed through the dense trees but quickly blended in with the birds chirping. I stared at my now bleeding knuckles.  He had done this to me. Not directly, but he had done it to me, pushed me to my very limit until I finally broke. I let out a long sigh as I looked out into the forest around me. I was tired. I was so tired.