The Fighter

37. Fighter

EDITED 29MAR22

"What about him?"

"The police department notified us because Cameron is under our custody. He is being taken to the hospital. He was showing signs of delirium tremens."

"What is that?"

"It is a possibly deadly result of sudden alcohol withdrawal for severe alcoholics."

"Well is he going to be fine since he is at the hospital?"

"I'm not sure. They didn't say."

I run my hands through my hair and over my face. I am so done with this bullshit.

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know. I'll head there now."

I finish up my hour with Cam before leaving for the hospital. My brother is my actual family. That man in the hospital can wait. They are doing everything he could need anyways. On the way, Officer Rodgers calls me. I can tell he is taking the primary point of contact for all my cases. He has seen my life turn to hell over the past couple of years. I can feel the slight amount of guilt he felt for not doing more over the years. But how much could he really have done? What could anyone have done?

When we arrive at the hospital, Lahlea is there, meeting us at the door. She was already working and stayed later after her shift when she heard my last name.

"Koda, I need to tell you something."

Her face is serious. She was never serious. Even when she was concerned she always had an air of optimism about her.

"What?"

"Your dad."

"I heard he was having alcohol withdrawal. That's why we came in."

She grabs my hand as we continue to walk down the hallway. "He started to seize, then went unconscious."

I should feel scared. Or guilty. Or upset. But I felt nothing about it. Nothing about him.

"We aren't sure we can bring him back to consciousness."

I pause. Lahela almost trips in her step forward. Eli knocks into her back as he wasn't prepared for the sudden halt either.

"So he's pretty much dead?"

"Not exactly."

"What am I supposed to do here?"

We arrive at his bed. The curtain is open enough for me to barely see him. Laying on the bed, unmoving.

"You have to be notified as his next of kin. We've been doing what we can. But his liver is extremely damaged from years of alcohol abuse. It has shut down and will not function on its own. He, he might never recover."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a deep breath. What am I supposed to do about this? How am I supposed to feel about this? Earlier my insane ex-boyfriend broke into my apartment, tried to attack me, and I pushed him out of the window to his death, then I had to tell my little brother he is going to live with a foster family, and now Frank was unconscious in the hospital because of his drinking problem that caused all of my problems. The shittiest day in my so far, pretty shitty existence.

"Honestly, I no longer care. If he is close to dying let me know. I'll bring Cam in. He deserves to say goodbye to his father. As for me, I lost my parents the day my mother died."

Eli grabs my shoulders so he can look squarely in my face. "Koda, are you sure you don't want to talk to him? You might regret it if you don't."

I shake my head. "I'm sure. Thank you Lehla for staying, but I'm done here. I just want to go to the police station, and then go hit a punching bag until I can't feel my hands."

"Koda!" Eli calld out to me as I begin walking down the hallway.

"What does she mean at the police station? Eli what is going on?" Lehla shouts as he chases after me.

"I'll explain later. I'm going to call dad when we get there."

The car ride to the police station is silent, I think Eli is too afraid to say anything. Like breathing in my direction might set me off. He would be right. I felt like my brain is being powered by pure adrenaline and anger.

At the police station, I answer more questions. More questions, the same questions to more people. They took more photos of my bruises and have me wash my face off. They even photographed the scar on my abdomen. Two hours later, I am done. Both of Eli's parents show up after Eli called them. Costa claimed to be my lawyer. They said it wouldn't be necessary, it was a self defense killing, so no charges would be filed against me. And with his history, it wasn't surprising his violence had escalated to this.

When we left, I told Eli I wasn't ready to go home yet. He told me he already has a plan. So instead of driving back to his apartment, we arrive at a small storefront, in a single story strip mall. It is the only store with lights on inside still.

"Recovery?" I look over at Eli, did he really bring me to a recovery center?

"Recovery Fitness. Come on. I packed you a bag, let's go inside."

Eli grabs a duffel bag from the trunk and pulls me inside. A short woman with a pointy tail and workout clothes greets us at the door. "Jess? I'm Eli, and this is Koda. I'm the one who called earlier."

"It's nice to meet you." Jess, shakes our hands. "So, this is my gym. It had a full free weight section, cardio equipment, a studio for yoga and dynamic classes, and what you're here for. The MMA room, a thousand square feet with mat floors, a mirror wall, and six punching bags."

She gives us a tour of her small gym. It is pretty impressive. Especially the MMA room.

"This is very impressive. Is this going to be your new gym?" I ask Eli.

"No, it's for you."

Jess interjects. "My gym is female only. It is for women who are recovering from domestic, sexual, drug, or alcohol abuse. My gym provides them a safe environment for them to learn healthy coping mechanisms and recover from their pasts. I actually posted a job opening online for a new boxing instructor. Eli gave me a call about it last week saying he knew just the person."

My jaw drops. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to accept it yet. Feel free to try out our equipment, and let me know what you think." Jess turns and exits the room, leaving Eli and I alone.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping. Leahla told me about this place, and I saw the job opening when I looked it up."

I fling my arms around his neck. "No, it's perfect. Thank you so much. For everything. I love you so much."

Eli's bright smile lights up his face. "Thank goodness. Now go get changed, time to see if this gym is up to your standards."

After changing in the locker room, I get back to the empty room. There is a speaker system in the corner, I hook up my phone to it, and press play on my favorite playlist. The sound comes through the speakers, the bass thumping against the walls. I wrap up my hands and approach the bag that hangs in front of the mirror. I can see myself here. My skin is bruised, the skin under my eyes is dark and sunken. My eyes are dark, filled with every broken emotion I have lived. I am tired of them winning, tired of the monsters that rule my life, tired of not being in control of my own life.

I swing at the bag. Once. Then again. And again. I hit the bag with everything I have. Like the bag was Frank. And Felix. Like it is filled with all the alcohol that makes Frank the monster he became. Like hitting the bag could undo every bruise and scar that tarnished my body. Like if I hit it hard enough, Cam could grow up like a normal kid. Like I could bring my mom back, and make her free of illness.

I am fighting the bag like it will fix everything. Like I always have. I fight the bag like I used to fight on the street. I collapse on the floor. Salty tears and sweat drip down my face and body. There is something different in my eyes, a fire, pure determination. I am ready to fight for something different. Instead of fighting against all of my problems, or fighting trying to solve them. I want to fight for my future. I want to fight for other women's futures too. I want to help them like how Mrs. Williams helped me. How Diane helps me. How Lahela helps me. I want to help make sure other women never feel alone, and know they can fight their situation.

This is what I always did. This is what I do. I am a fighter.