Up, Up and Away

20// victorious

20: victorious (warning: this chapter gets very emotional and violent towards the end. if you're not a fan of cussing, I advise you to not read.)

   HOLLY is kicking ass. Winona's, to be more specific. She has been boxing for the past month, it was the only way for her to let her frustration out; sexual and mental. Her heart is burning all of the time, and the only way to make it numb is to get stronger physically, because on the inside: she is slowly combusting and there is a fire growing, she cannot stop it.

    "Angry, today, aren't you, love?" says Winona, spitting into a small bucket near them. She fixes Holly's gloves and watches her hit as they've practiced.

    Holly doesn't answer, because all she can see is Walt. She sees him being trailed by Ana as if he is a little dog, she sees him barely look at her anymore, she sees him forgetting about her. Out of all the days in this blossoming year, this is the one that makes her burn, because Walt, today, was hell.

   After waking up and realizing she had kissed him, she ingrained the thought that he didn't see her in that way in her brain. He didn't reciprocate her feelings for him, even though she liked him. A lot. More than she'd liked anyone else. That thought came to her rescue when he sat with Ana at lunch, and stayed with her friends, the nicer jocks who watched him get beat up.

    Ana is a bitch, she knew that for certain from the first time she saw her. Walt was brainwashed by a witch and refused to get better. He was like a lost puppy worshipping a queen. He followed her everywhere, took in every feature of hers when she spoke to him, kissed her as if she was Princess Peach.

   For every kiss she sees flashing before her eyes, she hits harder; pushes her muscles to limits they never reached. Holly isn't in love, she tries to remind herself. She isn't in love with this Walt. Her Walt doesn't push her away, her Walt doesn't stop calling her, her Walt doesn't change for a girl. Then again—did she ever really know him?

    The boy she knew wouldn't watch someone get pushed to the ground, books fallen, and do nothing. He wouldn't stare for just a moment then walk away. He could help, she knew that. He could've gone to help the freshman, or even stopped the bullies. These talking buffoons were all shorter than him, and she knew of his thicker arms, his sturdy stomach. He could've told them to stop.

   Instead, he walked away. And with every step he took, Holly felt her heart break. No, it didn't break—it hardened. A broken heart was for the weak, a heart of stone was for those who wanted to live. She went to help the freshman, of course. She stepped closer to the small girl's body and pointed one finger into the main asshole.

   "Come close to her again," she felt her breath get cold, "and I will make sure you don't graduate. I'm sure the school board would love to know that their favorite soccer meathead has been cheating on the past five exams."

   His eyes narrowed, and Holly had to stop herself from breaking his nose right there and then. "You have no proof," he said.

   "Don't tempt me," she tried to remember his last name, but realized she didn't care enough about him to know. "The day you come near her again will be the last you spend in this school."

   Holly wasn't surprised that he left. She had realized, a long time ago, that her eyes were magnetizing. She could get anyone to do what she wanted by staring them down and threatening them. She felt power doing so, invincible. She couldn't fight people's battles for them, but she could help them stand on their feet. So, she helped the girl up and gave her a few pointers on how to defend herself. Telling an adult would've been pointless, the education here was as full of the shit as the students.