The Gangleaders Angel

6

I was almost to the park when a strange vibe came over me. I figured I might as well just walk along the roads or find another park to go to. There was just something so peaceful about putting in your earbuds and blasting music while kicking rocks along the road. Before I knew it, I was running. It felt like an escape from my life, from everyone, it was nice.

The loud buzzing from my phone was the only thing that had woken me up. I checked my phone to find it bombarded with texts from my mother and sister. Well shit, didn't know I was this damn popular. All the texts were about my mom working late and my sister going out, nothing I really care about.

I called up an Uber from the park where id fell asleep. The driver had shown up within a few minutes and I was set to go. I texted my manager and told him to bring me my spare bag and to schedule me a fight for the night.

A few minutes into the drive, the driver started to tell me about his kids. Don't get me wrong, he seemed like a nice guy, but I wasn't in the mood to chat. I just wanted to get to the gym and fight. He didn't seem to care that I looked kinda grumpy, the old man just continued to tell me all about his son and how he had won awards for his high school track team.

Eventually, the ride came to an end and he dropped me off a block from the ring. I learned to start doing that as a safety precaution after a bunch of guys tried to jump me. Well, that and I needed the exercise, those calories from the fires I ate earlier don't burn themselves. 

The trainer that my manager hired is a bitch, she made me run two miles at a time, and if I stopped then I had to restart them. Needless to say, it ended up being a lot more than two miles. After an hour, she gave up and moved on with our workout routine. Ms. Bitchy also told me that if I cant run two miles by the next session then she'll make me run till I puke. No wonder she doesn't have a boyfriend.

At last, we moved to the punching bags, something I know how to do well. I was wrong, according to Bitchypants I'm hitting the bag wrong. Yeah so wrong that I made it fling off the rack and break because I wasn't hitting the right part of it, right part of it my ass. It's a punching bag, there is no right part to it, it's all filled with fucking sand!

My manager called me over after a few hours of that madness and told me to get ready for my fight. He said I was going up against a big opponent, coming from him, that's not good. Ben has been my manager for a few years, he knows my limits.

He was right, my opponent is big, six-foot and approximately 300 lbs. I don't think I've ever gone up against someone as big as this guy. He was pure muscle, his thighs were bigger than my entire face. I turned to look at Ben with pure horror written all over my face. Usually, I can keep my cool while facing a bigger fighter, but this dude was a giant. My manager just smirked and walked away as the bell do begin the fight rung.

Twenty minutes in and I'm getting my absolute ass kicked. Every move I make this guy can block it. Ben calls a timeout and pulls me aside, I know my ass is about to get lectured about this fight. I drag my feet and walk over to him, he starts telling me about how I'm too cocky about winning my fights and this fight is a lesson to never be cocky. Now see that really pissed me off, I may be a bitch, I may be weak, but I am certainly not fucking cocky.

I walk back up to the ring, the giant is looking at me with a sharp smirk. The bell dings, resuming the fight and I immediately land a blow to the side of his face. Shock is written all over the crowd's face and I continuously throw punches at him. I spotted a weak spot in his right leg and took a swing at it, knocking him down. Everyone gasped as I beat him unconscious. 

The ref comes up to the mat and declares me the winner of the match and hands me my earnings. I gladly take them and hop out of the ring and to the back of the bar where my bag was being stored. Swiftly changing out of my outfit, I come back to the main room of the fight club. Everyone is aghast that I could be that violent in a match if you want something bad enough you'll do anything to get it. I wanted to win that match and I did, simple as that. 

I slip past everyone and start to walk to the Uber that I ordered after my fight only to have clashed in the head with a heavy object seconds later. Black dots swarmed my vision and I began to go in and out of consciousness.