Chasing Reality

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Two hours later I am surprised to see that the gym is almost empty. There are a few old people running on the treadmill but besides this everything seems normal.

"Hey, Havana! Sup?"

I hear a familiar voice behind me. As a turn around I spot the gym's owner, Kyle. We used to be very good friends since I moved here. But not the kind of friends who hang out and watch movies , but the ones that help and secretly hate each other.

"Where's everyone?"

"Do you even look at your clock?"

He asks amused.

It's almost nine in the evening. For me is something normal but yeah...am I normal? I don't think so.

"Do you want me to lock the door after

I leave. I'll spend some time here. Maybe more then usual. You will be long asleep in your comfy bed by the time I'm done here."

Because I can unleash the angry animal that lives inside me without carrying about people starring. My alter ego, the feral creature.

"Sure. Thanks a ton, Shepard. But anyway after eight PM the gym is rented by Peter Levisnki and his fighters. If you leave before them you can give the keys to Pete."

"Sure thing."

I say as I head to the treadmill. I run while the the sound of the fighter's erratic breathing fusions with the toe curling sounds of their fists hitting the punching bags.

Two hours pass and the noises become angry growls and pained moans. I hear someoene-maybe Peter- shouting instructions.

For the first time I'm glad the treadmill is not in the same room as the rest of the gym stuff because I feel like an intruder. Mental note: never come to the gym after eight. Checked.

After sweating two T-shirts and discarding the third one , I finally stop. Damn I already feel my muscles becoming sore. As I'm heading to my bag I hear a loud pained scream and their coach shouting at someone to stop. I'm so focused on what's happening behind the wall that I don't see the huge spider hanging above my head. And holy cow, looking up was the most stupid thing I've ever done in my life. As the spider lands on my face I start screaming like a bitch and somehow I mange to trip over a bench and fall like a potato bag.

"Fuck!"

I shout as I fall over the wooden thing.

In less than thirty seconds, five sweating hulking men are at the door . On of them, -the oldest- helps me get up as the rest are looking around searching for the reason I disturbed their practice.

I get up and I try to recompose my face into looking somehow normal and not like an idiot

"I apologize for my disturbance. My clumsiness stopped your practice."

"Nah, our practice is over."

Says one of the guys while smiling. His lip is bleeding and there is a huge bruise under is eye. There is an unspoken invitation in his eyes that I refuse to acknowledge.

I inspect all of them, expecting bloody faces and bald men with tattoos. But I am positively surprised to see that none of them looks like a serial killer. If my mind wasn't so screwed up I could like them and eventually date one of them. Gah! What am I thinking? Date?! Holy flippin' cow! What's wrong with my brain?!

"Ah...oh...well ...uhm....thanks for helping me."

I say looking VERY uncomfortable. Sometimes I feel ashamed of my own thoughts. Pfft.