Packed a Punch
Chapter 1: Reasons
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight i only own the characters i have made up.
I felt nothing when I would catch my reflection around the house mirrors. I didn't flinch or grimace. Outwardly, that is. Inside my head I was cursing myself out.
Telling myself I should have seen it coming or I should have fought harder. My busted left eye was a temporary reminder of my first real street life.
My name is Dulce Fierro and about 2 days ago I had been jumped by a bunch of girls. Why? For a stupid guy.
I rolled my eyes and tightened my mouth as I began to practically throw my clothes inside random travel bags. I felt angry tears prickle the back of my eyes as I went back to that day and what had led up to it.
I had lived in Southern California all my life and tried my best to just stay as the bland wall color, hoping no one will notice me so I wont get any trouble my way. Well, my personality changed once I got to high school. Once I started high school I got louder, taller, skinnier, and more upfront.
Hello! It's called maturing!
Okay, so I matured, you know, all that and so I spoke up. I was just so tired of not telling people how I felt that it just mounted up and I had had it.
That's how I got my big mouth. So, the shy, quiet girl turned into a loud, upfront bitch. Sort of.
Because of this, I have been on many peoples shit lists. I've even been on my school's burn book on Facebook.
This was towards the end of sophomore year and all my junior year. Now it's just a week from the start of my senior year. On year that I will not be attending at the high school that has been mine for the past 3 years.
Tomorrow I will be leaving to La Push, Washington for 2 reasons. The first reason is because my dad, Armando Fierro has diabetes, and so he decided he wanted to move to La push where my mother comes from. My dad is 40 years old and recently he found out he had diabetes, and his favorite thing to do is fish. I don't know why, it just is. To make it easier for him, we decided that it would be best if we moved to La Push. It was perfect, my mom could see her family again, my dad could fish and I could see my older brother again. Gabriel was 22 and lived in Seattle, he was going to school there full time and never had any time to visit us and had said that he would take a break from school and stay with us at La Push for a while.
My brother and I have only been to La Push once when I was 7 and he was 12. We had gone to visit my grandma, the only living relative from my mom's side.
Now on to the second reason, as I had mentioned before, I talk, a lot, and have gotten in trouble with many people and I'll admit it, I was scared. I decided not to be as… upfront so I wouldn't get my ass kicked. Just to feel safer, I decided to take boxing lessons.
And since I have been talking forever, I'll just speed this up. I went to the local sports center to find a trainer. At first some didn't want to teach me but then I found a guy who didn't seem to mind. His name was Jason. Jason was a pretty tough teacher. He had me change my diet and start lifting weights. I had to start cardio. It was then that I realized I was in horrible shape. Slowly, I started getting into it, I felt stronger. I could jab quickly and strong.
What I didn't know was that Jason was also one of the girl's who I would talk shit to, Jenny, and she didn't like me training with her boyfriend or whatever and I think you can see where I'm going.
2 nights ago I was walking home from getting some soda and milk from the corner store when I got jumped. It was like 3 girls and one grabbed my arms and held me as I was being punched. It took awhile but I managed one arm to escape and punched one girl in the stomach and heard her gasp loudly and groan but with a kick to my chest I was down. They ran and I was left to limp back home.
I had to tell my parents and they added another reason to why it was good to move to La Push.
So here I am, packing away the last few of my belongings. I think a lot of people would feel sad or nostalgic if they had to pack they're things away and move to a different place but I'm just not feeling that. Maybe I was still bummed from getting jumped.
I mean, come on! What happened to me was embarrassing! It was horrible, and what really gets me mad is that I know those girls are fucking laughing and feeling proud at kicking my ass.
I finished packing my bags with all of my clothes, some new and some old with a angry and hard hand and went to grab my Jansport backpack that I would be taking with me onto the plane. I put inside a blanket, some books incase I get bored, and my journal. I trudged the pack next to my door and threw myself onto my bed, my injured eye hit the pillow and a pulse of pain overcame me.
I wasn't sure what to expect but I had a feeling it was going to be ok, I would see my brother and grandma again, my parents would be happy, and I could start all over at a new school.
I stopped from thinking what would come tomorrow by pressing my pulsing black eye to my pillow and closing my eyes, pulse after pulse hitting me as I went into a nothingness sleep.