Dusk

Chapter 4- Training

Alex's POV

The house was still as it always is, I walked straight through to the kitchen without dropping the hanging backpack on my left shoulder. My routine was normal and a second nature, opening the fridge and grabbing the cheese then walking over to a draw underneath the counter to grab the cheese grater.

Carrying on with my snack routine it was then I saw my mother rushing past the open doorway. I scoffed, she probably didn't even notice I was here or worse, even know when the school times were. It was fine though, nothing I wasn't used to. Over the years my mom was never like other moms, at home baking nice fresh cookies waiting for you to come home tell you about your day, friends and life. The only times she notices is when it comes to my education, she asked the school that if I were to ever be missing a day or even a lesson then they would call her up and tell her about my skipping. It gets worse, if my grades slip anything lower then a C at best she gets notified about that too. That's why I have to keep up with my school work, not because I chose to but because I have to. I'd much rather workout for more and put the extra effort and time into getting fitter.

I took my small bowl with grated cheese to my bedroom. The sky blue sheets were a mess, the curtains were half-open and my wardrobe doors were wide open with my clothes dripping out and all around. The mess I created this morning in my rush to school. Debating whether or not to clear it up, I guess I could? Once I had opened my laptop and started playing the latest Phil Defranco video, I had come to the conclusion that I'll clean it up later after boxing training.

*

Knowing my mother had the left the house earlier, like she always does on Thursday, I had my keys in my hand to lock the door. Ever since I've started street fighting I've made sure to take extra caution in making sure the house was safe incase someone tried to get 'revenge' on me for kicking their ass.

I had also made a hundred percent sure that my mum also cared, at least, a little bit. She now locks the door at night whenever she returns and never went in another mans car. That's all I could convince her of.

Once I made it to the abandoned house for my 'fight tomorrow' routine, I took note of how the air seemed colder than before. I must start to wear a jacket. The small, very tiny, cool breeze moved and swished some of the branches of the bushes that lined along the dirt road, on both sides; Thus then making the house that bit more visible, slight worry filled me when I realized people could find the house easier. I hope not.

I was already dressed in my sports bra (and normal bra underneath) paired with my three-quarter length tracksuit bottoms covering my shorts, paired with oversized white shirt that had a Vinyl disc print on it but with the sleeves cut off.

As soon as I was ready and full of pent up energy, I took off my shirt and tracksuit bottoms and began to put the purple wrap around my hands at lightning speed and sharply began attacking the hanging 80kg punching bag.

I pummeled it.

Where the sudden rush of.. anger? Came from, I have no idea. Fortunately that happens a lot for my training.

This was only to release some extra energy before I began my preparement for tomorrow. The fight was a legal one therefore, the fighters (me) must follow every rule in the book. It was to take place at Albert Hall. The hall held many events for the town, weather it be a fair, sports event or even bingo, it was simply just a hall with toilets down a corridor. It would be decorated or made a custom to whatever event it was to hold.

After fifteen minutes of straight up beating the heaviest bag you could have, I moved on to my 65kg boxing bag and changed to my MMA knuckle gloves as those would be what I'd be using tomorrow.

The only information about the fight was that he was a beginner and I've been told to go easy on him, though I doubt I will. He was also said to be young and this was his first fight, his mum is worried about him and this fight is more of a.. trial.

As far as I'm concerned he's an easy fight. But then again, they always are I inwardly smirked.

After I was comfortably in my gloves and taken the 'on guard' position standing facing the right-hand side and fists up by my chest and just by my chin. Time to start the precision of my punches.

Front. I punched with my front left fist.

Back. I punched with my back right fist, making sure the back of my hand was facing the ceiling.

Front, back.

Back, back, front.

Front.

Front, back, front.

Front, front.

And so on. I kept mixing it up and changing patterns not having drinking breaks as you should always train harder than your fight. My arms began to ache of holding my stance, my biceps becoming sore from the impact of my fist against the slightly swinging punching bag, occasionally allowing time for it to slow down.

Too soon the sun had set and now moonlight took over the sky, at the sight of the stars I knew it was my regular time to leave. My lack of breath made me not so bothered about changing and walked straight out of the creeky old battered door with my earphones in place inside my ears.

I was too busy scrolling through the songs on my phone to notice the motorcycle tracks on the dirt road.