Fresh Wounds

Fight Night pt. 2

!!NEW STORY IN THE MAKING!!

**The picture in the media is how chyenne looks at her "meeting". As you all can see, I have switched the character looks. I just feel that it'll be better this way for the direction of the story. The photo in the media of the first chapter of Kimberly is updated.**

Kim

I roll over in my bed feeling next to me as I squint my eyes and to my surprise, Liv isn't laying here. I check the time on my phone. Dang, it's 11 in the morning. That's late for me, I usually get up between 7 and 9. I yawn. There is a sweet and familiar aroma in the air that makes me sit all the way up, stretching in my attempts to get up. "Mmm," I groan, holding onto my side. I lift my t-shirt up and my eyes widen as I stare at a big reddish-purple bruise on my right side, directly where my rib cage is. Shaking my head, I pull my shirt back down and slide out of bed. The smell in the air is only increasing in intensity as I limp down the stairs, peeking into the kitchen to my right. Olivia is in the kitchen, on her knees in a chair over the stove, making the French toast recipe I taught her last winter. She tilts her head looking at me, smiling, before going back to flipping the toast she has in the pan. My eyes wander over to the counter where she has the sugar, eggs, cinnamon and three different bowls and the blender. She blended the sugar into powdered sugar the way I showed her, and has some in one of the bowls. The other two bowls contain cinnamon and the egg mixture for the toast. I laugh and shake my head. She is so extra for that. Why in the world does she need to have the cinnamon in a whole bowl knowing she won't use it all? Little master chef set up.

"What?" she ponders, watching me laugh. "Is something wrong?" She completely stops cooking and eyes me curiously. I grab her head in my hands and kiss her forehead, smiling. "Nope. Nothing wrong at all kid, good job," I assure her, walking over to the cabinet for plates. I set the table for Liv and I, and make us both some homemade hot chocolate; it's her favorite. Olivia sets the plate of hot French toast on the table and places the syrup beside it. We bless our food and eat in silence, other than a few occasional giggles.

***

Olivia

"Nooo! That's not fair!" I yell, watching Kimmie place her next to last "pick 4" Uno card on the pile for me. She laughs. "Olivia, did you really think I would just keep letting you win?" She busts out laughing and shaking her head. I wrinkle my nose. "YOU WERE LETTING ME WIN?" I scream at her. This whole time, I thought I was actually beating her and I was so proud of myself. She's rolling on the floor, crying from laughing so hard right now and I feel my face get hot and I know it's angry red. My face turns red a lot so I name all the reds my face can do. There's crying too hard red, happy red, upset red and angry red. At least, that's all the reds I know right now. But what I do know is right now it's angry red. I throw my stack of cards down, gather the deck up and throw them into the air, watching the cards slowly fall everywhere. I grin, nod my head and sit indian style on the floor, eyeballing Kimmie. She's just watching them fall, lying on her back. One of the cards lands on her chest and she picks it up. "You're a sore loser Olivia," she says, flicking the card at me. I shrug my shoulders. I bet next time she'll play me like the intelligent young person I am instead of some baby.

All the cards are all over the floor. I scoot closer to Kimmie and lay next to her. She's just laying here with her eyes closed as if she's trying to relax. Her arm is covering her side and I've noticed her holding it for a while now. "Does it hurt?" I ask, looking up at her. "Yes," she answers, barely above a whisper. I get up and go the kitchen and grab a bag of frozen veggies out of the freezer for her. When she gets them, she smiles weakly and slowly places the bag onto her side. "Oh!" She jumps, pushing the bag away. "Kimmie, you have to heal it. That's what you told me, remember?" She nods her head and motions for me to get the bag. I hand it to her and watch her try again. She's reluctantly placing the bag onto her side and quickly moving it away. I shake my head and take it from her. "Here, let me." I Say, lifting her shirt. I gasp, staring at her big bruise. It looks really bad. I look up at her. She's got her head tilted back and her eyes shut tight. I take a deep breath and slowly lay the bag on her ribs. "Ooh, Liv, please-" she says in pain. She takes deep breaths. I hold her hand and put it on the bag so she can put hold it herself.