Vertigo

Chapter Eight - Ghost Of The Past

"What the hell were you thinking out there?" I heard Cassidy yell through the outside of the door. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton as I stared up at the white roof of the hospital room. I slipped my bare feet off the side of the bed, setting it down on the cold tiles. "Actually, no. I don't think you were thinking at all. I warned you it wasn't a good idea, yet you decided to do it anyway!"

"I thought she'd be up to it," He responded, his voice sounding slightly agitated. "Where the hell is Dr Adams?"

"Of course, she wasn't up for it, Damien!" She yelled at him. Damien, not Mr Grace, I noted. "Besides, why the hell did you send her through a full body scan and a blood test? You think she's on drugs or something?"

"I doubt it," A third voice spoke, coming closer to the door – I summed it up to belonging to doctor Adams, "Apart from the alcohol in her system, everything was clean."

"You let her drink?" My father bellowed, "She's underage!"

"I didn't let her do anything!" Cassidy responded. I bit down on my teeth as I felt the rage grow in me before grabbing hold of my jacket and leaving through the window next to my bed. The cold wind cut through my dress as I dropped off the balcony onto the grass patch bellow, nearly twisting my ankle when landing. I sighed, thanking the universe I knew the area as I slipped on my sneakers before breaking into a run. The streets around me blurred as I through street after street, stopping at the revamp facade of an old building.

I walked past the group of teens loitering around the entrance who nodded, stepping out of the way and opening the entrance to the building. The room was large and too dark to see at first, but I knew the layout. There was a boxing ring to my left, broken down from use, and another next to that where I use to practice in. To my right where the heavy bags I wished more than anything, I could punch right now.

"Nice dress, kitten."

"Shut the fuck up, Arti," I cut her off, walking further into the room. She laughed, hopping off the edge of the ring, playing with her knife. "Where's Big Boy?"

"Working a job with my idiot brother. Anything I can do for you? Or do you?" She smirked, earning a frown from me.

"No. My clothes still in the locker?"

"Probably," She answered, shrugging. "You know we don't clear those out."

I shuddered to the time I accidentally opened her brother's locker, remembering the scent of three-week-old chicken that instantly made me gag. "Yeah... Anyway, I'm going to get changed. Get me a sparring partner in the meantime, I have some steam to let off."

"Sure, shout if you need help stripping, hey?" She winked. I rolled my eyes, walking off.

"Go fuck yourself, Arti."

"Pretty sure fucking you would be more fun, rich girl!" With that, I shut the door, mumbling to myself that if she hadn't had someone in the ring by the time I was back, I'd use her as a heavy bag. I walked over to my locker, enter the passcode – 16-2-25 – unlocking it before pulling out some clothes and slamming it shut again. I made my way the showers, ditching my dress as I got there to trade it in for my old clothes – a black denim skinny, torn at the knees along with my white t-shirt with the words Rainbow Factory, printed across the front.

I walked back to the lockers, grabbing my gloves and throwing my dress back in, slamming it shut before locking it and making my way back to the main room. Arti was still there. Alone.

"What happened to get me a sparring partner?" I questioned, walking to her with annoyance burning in my eyes.

"You know I'd do anything for you, Kitten," She shrugged, "But, there's someone here to see you."

"Who the hell could be here to see me? And if they want to talk to me that can get into the ring with –"

"Hey, Dawn." A voice sounded from behind me, causing me to turn quickly on my heels as my stomach twisted sickly – I knew that voice from somewhere! But where? It belonged to a woman who leaned against the other ring, dressed in a brown leather jacket and white shirt. She seemed Asian, her black and lips redder than blood, but her accent had been English.

"Who are you?" I stumbled back, my heart racing with familiarity I couldn't place. My mind ran in circles, twisting sickly with each outcome – a scent, a sight, a sound. Red.

Arti noticed, jumping off the side of the ring, walking to my side, her blade in hand.

"I'm hurt that you don't remember me," She said, her lips creeping to a smile – a voice more venomous the a viper. I stared closer, trying to spot a slit tongue as she stepped closer, her black leather heels clicking on the concrete floor of the gym, echoing through skull – drilling unexplainable fear into me as I stumbled even further back.

"I suggest you leave now," Arti demanded as the woman ignored her. "Big Boy owns this place. He finds out anyone messed with us, they're dead."

"I know exactly who owns this place, Emma," She laughed, walking even closer. Arti's eyes widened at the sound of her real name. "But, frankly, I don't really care."

"Get out!" I yelled desperately as my back hit the edge of the ring.

"I'll give you a little something to remember me by." She spoke, now standing ontop of me. We were the same height, yet I felt like a mere child beside her as she raised her hand, extending two fingers, her middle and index, and placed it onto my left shoulder. My eyes widened.

"Bang."