Dangerous Needs (Isaac Lahey Fan-Fic)

Chapter 3

I swung my right leg out to hit the centuries old punching bag. Well, not centuries, but you get me. My body was covered in sweat, only wearing shorts and a sports bra. My fists had heavy layers of athletic tape wrapped around my knuckles, going down to my wrist. For the first time in weeks, I was able to let out my anger and pain from memories that began to haunt my dreams once again.

"Please! Stop! I'm sorry!" Punch, punch.

"I'm sorry! It'll never happen again!" Kick, punch, punch.

"Please- OW! That hurts!" Kick, punch, kick, punch.

"Please! I'm bleeding! Stop! Stop!" With a punch and a swift forceful hit of my palm, the punching bag went across the room, breaking from the chain that connected it to the ceiling. I sighed, frustrated. I wasn't done. I know the man at the front desk said that the punching bag was old, but I didn't think that old!

I grabbed my water bottle and towel from the bench and made my way out of the old dusty gym. My breathing was heavy as I walked to the weight room. I placed my things down and hopped on to the treadmill. If I couldn't get my anger out by punching a few things, heavy running should definitely help.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my body. After my twenty minute run, I went straight to the showers. It was only about 6:15 by the time I was dressed in my bummy clothes. It was about a fifteen minute walk back to the house, so I'll have some time for make up and decent clothing.

I gathered all my things, telling the man about the punching bag. He looked surprised as to realizing I was the one to break the centuries old punching bag. I alternated between jogging and speed walking to the house, knowing that Stiles was there and probably second guessing where I am.

It took only 10 minutesto get to the house because of my speedy transportation. I walked in and went straight up the stairs.I could hear the footsteps of the oh-so-famous Mr. Stilinski following me. Sarcasm on the famous part. The kid was so annoying and sarcastic, I don't even know why I love him so much.

"Where were you motor?" I heard him say as I began to strip out of my clothes upstairs. I could hear Scott moving around in the next room. I knew Stiles didn't care about me standing in just my panties and bra in front of him. One reason because Lydia Martin was really the only girl he ever really cared about. Another because I've known him as long as I've known Scott, so he's seen my bare naked when I was only around five years old.

"Motor?" I asked as I slipped on a pair of dark blue denim jeans. I went into my closet to look for a top.

"Yeah. Like Harley Davidson Motorcycles. Your name's Harley, and Motor, like motorcycles. Cool right?" He said, sitting at the edge of my bed. I scoffed, looking through my closet.

"That's both creative and completely, and utterly stupid, Stilinski," I answered, grabbing a dark blue t-shirt. The shirt was insanely beautiful. It said, "Sticks and stones may break bones, but words HURT TOO."

I smiled as I pulled it over my head. The money I paid for this went to help kids being bullied and other charities and causes to help stop bullying. I bought it for a kid in my school two years ago who comitted suicide. I wasn't close to him, but it still hurt to know someone was hurting someone so bad that it killed that boy.

I rolled the sleeves up two times on each side and tucked the end in my jeans. I grabbed my black and white converse before walking out.

"It's not stupid!" Stiles said as I sat next to him, pulling my shoes on over my white socks. My hair was in pretty waves, cascading down my back. I was probably one of the luckiest people in the world. My hair was always natrually wavy and always cooperated with me. I went to my vanity to put on mascara and slight eyeshadow. I wasn't one for lots of makeup. Sometimes I added eyeliner, but not today. I grabbed my bag from where it was hanging by the door.