Identities

Training for the Unexpected

Focus is everything when you're trying to become better at something. Aspiring to be a great philosopher? Start reading others takes on life and what they've been through to get into that mind set. Want to become a great musician? You sit down for hours on end and practice with a metronome on.

I want to be great, not just at knife throwing but at all aspects in my life. That's why I make sure to keep myself sharp.

No breaks, no half assing. The way I've been practicing my knife throwing I'd say I've been getting exponentially better. Pretty soon I'm going to start picking up the pace and I'll try blindfolding myself. Then from there I'll try other methods like doing it while I'm sitting down. Knife throwing is practical, it's not as complex as fighting. With knife throwing it's all in the way of how smooth your body moves along to the path to your target. *Thwack thwack thwack*

Each knife sinks in deeper and closer together than the last, my arm may be getting sore but as I continue my process to better myself it'll be worth it.

My ears start to ring as my headphones switch from In This Moment to my alarm. I check my messages and all I get is a brief text. "Warehouse. Medic. Now." I never let myself have a phone for more than a week so the number is unknown to me. I tie the knives to my stomach just in case anything happens. That's my train of thought at all times. Train for the unexpected, train for the unexpected, train for the unexpected.  It's ingrained into my mind so much that sometimes I'll find myself mumbling it to myself. Now to see what they got themselves into.

As I arrive to the warehouse I find the car that my crew took from the previous job, looking inside I found splotches of blood bottles of antiseptic and some blood soaked towels that were thrown in the backseat. 'Shit, this is bad.' Screams from inside the warehouse brought me to my senses and I rushed in ready for anything. Knife in one hand and a flashlight in the other I rushed in cautiously to the sterile room where we fix any injuries. Blood leading into it I see four of my crew hunched over someone. Chuey gripping the edges of the table as one of my guys pops his shoulder into place and another is sewing a huge gash in the side of his leg. 'Chuey what happened man?!' 'It was Carlos and his crew, they showed up at out of nowhere and start kicking the shit out of me while I let everyone else get a head start to the car. When I was able to run they started shooting and I fell down a hill and dislocated my shoulder.' 'You take too many risks shithead.' 'Sorry boss, I know you would done the same for us.' He's completely right but I disregard it all the same. 'Just go to sleep for now while I talk to everyone in my room.'