March 9th 2008
Her head bounced on the concrete, she didn't cry from the pain of the impact. She just rolled over, pushed herself back up and took her attacker to the ground. She could control the fight better on the ground, she was a fairly small girl, with short arms and legs. She couldn't win a traditional fight, but she was strong enough, and good enough that she could choke this bastard out.
Her opponent was a bulky Mexican, who appeared to know nothing about mixed martial arts. This could easily work to her advantage. She closes her eyes and concentrated, like Juice had taught her. Get behind him, lock your leg under your knee, keep him from rolling towards you. She wrapped her right arm around his fat neck, until his Adam's apple was in the crook of her elbow. She brings her left arm up, putting her right forearm in the crook of her left arm, her left hand pushes against the back of fatty's head, pulling him tighter into her hold. She keeps squeezing until after his body goes limp. She pulls herself away from his unconscious form, and runs and hides in the bathroom of the science and tech building.
She notices the dull throb of her head, and realizes she might have a concussion when she has to type out a text to her father, brother and husband three times before it made any sense. She was going to need a rescue, she only had one clip on her, and she wasn't really wanting to shoot up her own campus if she didn't have too. She needed bigger guns in the literal sense of the phrase right now.
She remembered that Juice was still in Nevada after sending him the text. She knows that at the very least her father is putting her on lock down at the clubhouse after this. She texts her mother to please pick up Cissy from Neeta's house and take her to the clubhouse. She didn't want her baby to get caught in the cross fire.