Liar, Liar (ON HOLD)

Chapter 5

I woke up to see that I was in my mother's room.

So it wasn't a dream.

I was about to move until I felt like something was pushing down on my chest, so I lifted my head up to see.

Wide eyed, I carefully got out of the bed from Lauren's grasp and stormed out the room.

What happened last night?

All I remember was that I had a breakdown, I got on the bed and I mumbled something.

Most of it is a blurr to me.

I guess that's what happens when I sleep walk, my mom would usually remind me what I would do when I sleep walked.

But I have this weird feeling that something happened.

I went into the restroom to do my business and do whatever I needed to get done.

Once I finished, I realized that there was no food in the fridge.

And I have a feeling that the food Lauren brought won't last very long.

I'll just wait until she wakes up and make her go to the store.

But I'm not just going to sit around and wait for her to wake up.

I'm not going to even ask her what happened last night, she'll just have to find me.

So I'm going to do the grown-up thing to do and hide in the basement.

I then walked out the back door and opened the door to the cellar.

I coughed as some dust flew around.

"I guess now is the time to get my mind off of it."

I walked down the stairs and into the middle of the room.

I lifted my arm up and pulled a string that was dangling above my head.

The whole room lit up and next to a small window illuminated rays of light and revealed my punching bag.

Once I reached the bag, the lights flickered and went out.

"Of course." I sighed.

At least the bag is next to the window.

"Haven't done this in a while." I said as I started to punch the bag.

It hurt just a tiny bit for the first few punches, but it faded as I kept going.

I kept punching harder and faster.

The more my anger grew, the more violent my hits were.

I punched and I kicked with all my might.

Most people would grow tired from this, but I felt as I could keep going for hours.

I felt as if I was gaining more energy instead of wearing myself out.

My adrenaline was racing and my heart was filled with too much energy that I couldn't stop.

I'm already starting to break a sweat and it feels as if the temperature in the basement went up to a hundred degrees.

This shirt wasn't helping either, so I took it off and threw it to the side.

I sighed with relief and continued to punch the bag.

I remember how I used to tell my mom when I was little that I was going to be a fighter.

She always admired how big of an imagination I had, so she let me hold onto that one hope of mine.