Reddit Stories 2019

Gains

The doorbell's upbeat ding-dong rang through my house. This was it. This was the moment I got my life back on track. I made idle attempts at getting in shape, but my rigorous diet and exercise plans rarely lasted a week. I knew I couldn't do it myself. No matter how I pretended, I lacked the motivation. Paul had always been my guide. Now, he... he wasn't.

Gyms didn't work either. They cost a pretty penny and my wallet was already hurting. I'd made too many mistakes after things happened. My savings was dedicated to keeping the house. I couldn't add much on top of that. Fortunately, this mystery trainer wasn't much. He even mentioned that the first session was free, which was a godsend for me.

I paused at the door, a little concerned. The guy had no reviews on yelp. No presence outside of the private twitter he DM'd me from. If he was legit, why was he trying to find new clients from twitter of all places? My mother's warnings of axe murderers rang through my head.

With a mental shrug, I opened the door. The axe murderer already had my address.

The first thing I noticed was that she was barely five feet. And young. I'd been expecting some dude barely in his thirties, not a girl barely in her teens. Her reddish hair was ponytailed back and she wore some designer leggings and a plain tank top. A large black duffle bag lay at her feet. She glanced up from her phone, with no acknowledgement of my surprise, and turned the screen to me, showing my rather short twitter conversation with the trainer.

"You Cade?"

"I, uh, yes. You're Charlie?" I tried to indicate the sheer surprise in my tone.

"Uh-huh. Pick that up," she said, tapping the duffle with her foot. "You got a yard?"

"Down the hall, through the kitchen."

"Perf."

Without another word, Charlie stepped past me and disappeared into my house. Slowly overcoming my bewilderment, I stooped to grab the bag. It had been a long time since I last worked out my, well anything, but especially since I worked out my upper body. I did not expect the bag to be so heavy.

With several sounds that should never come out of anyone's mouth, I managed to pull the bag a couple inches off the floor and waddle my way out to the yard. Charlie leaned against a tree, casually eyeing me as I stumbled through the glass doors. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to me and grabbed the bag from my hand. With one hand, she swung it over her shoulder and with the other she motioned for me to follow.

The immense weight was replaced by immense embarrassment.

"Do you parents know you're doing this?" I asked.

Charlie laughed. "What?"

"I mean, isn't a little, uh—" I paused, trying to find the right words — "dangerous? You don't know who I am. I could be some weirdo."

"Are you?"

"No."

Charlie shrugged. "Then I don't see a problem."

"Yeah, well, what if I—" I didn't get to finish my sentence. Somehow, in the middle of it, I was on my back and the air in my lungs violently exited. I gasped for breath as Charlie leaned over me, brow furrowed but smiling.

"I can take care of myself, Peter."

I nodded. "Got it."

"Good. Let's start with some stretching. You're too stiff."

The start was basic fitness stuff. She walked me through some quick exercises, including several quick dashes across my yard and several quick dashes across my yard carrying heavy weights. She was tough and, by the midpoint, I was coated in sweat. My heart tried to hammer out of my chest. I could feel my lungs burning, angry that I forced them to finally pull their weight. My breakfast threatened join the revolution. Still, I kept going.

Then Charlie pulled out the swords.

She passed one to me, along with a padded jacket and fencer's helmet. Not that it would do me much good if she swung with all her force. The blades were dull but thick.

"Come on," she urged. "We don't have all day."

I had a lot of questions. All seemed equally important. I settled on "aren't you putting on any armor?"

"You won't hit me."

"Okay. Why the swords?"

Charlie's subtle grin faded for a moment. She shook her head. "Tell me about Paul."

The question hit me harder than anything else had. Through the black helmet, I stared at her, unable to form words. I had been very careful to say nothing about Paul after everything that happened.

I yelped as she whipped my arm with the flat of her sword. "Come on, Peter. Tell me about Paul."

"How do you know about Paul?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "I'm not a dumbass. I do my research before I hang out with strange guys in their backyards. Tell me what happened."

Mentally readying myself, I fell quiet for a moment. A moment too long, apparently. Charlie swung at me again, landing a blow on my unguarded arm before I could even raise my sword. "Alright, alright, Jesus Christ! Just stop hitting me."

"I will when you tell me what happened to Paul."

"I don't know!" I finally screamed. Charlie took a step back in surprise. She glanced to my hand, seeing my knuckles white around the hilt. With a sly smile, she lowered herself to a guarded glance and nodded at me. I took my chance and swung.

"It was late when I got home. I'd been traveling," I said. Charlie easily blocked my clumsy swipes, but stayed on the defensive. "I came home to blood. A lot of blood. It was all over the hallway and the floors and..."

"Come on. Stay focused," Charlie said as my last half-hearted swing went wide.

"He was in the tub, coated in it. He was so pale. His eyes were so... so lifeless. I thought he had killed himself. I called the ambulance, but it was useless. He was already dead by the time I got home."

Charlie nodded. She ducked under the wide swung of my sword and with a quick strike to my wrist, disarmed me. I fell to my knees, shoulders slumped. I was happy the mask was dark enough that she couldn't see me crying. At least, that's what I told myself to stave off embarrassment.

"He wasn't though."

I nodded. I wasn't even surprised at that point. She'd done her homework. "He wasn't."

"The police told you not to say anything."

"They did."

Charlie squatted next to me. She drove her sword into the ground and let the mask slip. Her green eyes were wet with tears and she sniffed loudly. "Yeah. Same thing happened to my parents."

"Charlie," I said softly.

"Don't." Her voice cracked as she spoke and she turned away. Her whole body shook and I quickly remembered that she was, despite the badass personal trainer persona, still a child. One far tougher than I. "Just don't. I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me. I need allies, Peter."

"Allies?"

"I'm going to stop them. I've already gotten a couple, but there's so many. I need people to help me out." Charlie stood, pulling her sword from the earth. "So, I guess this is the part where I ask if you want to help. We keep training. I have others. And when we're all ready, we kill those jerks."

Charlie wiped the tears from her eyes, swallowing her sadness. Despite the puffy red eyes, the mask returned. She stared down at me and whether or not it was just posturing, she had the confidence of a girl on a mission.

"Yeah, okay," I decided. I was supposed to get my life back on track.

Revenge was close enough.