I just Don't Understand

I'm standing in front of the punching bag in the weight room, I'm not hitting it yet, just watching it as I tape my hands up and ready myself for a well needed work out. A few moments later my hands are taped and I'm moving around a bit to get my body warmed up before I take my first punch against the bag.

As soon as my fist connects with the bag it moves away from me and sways from side to side as I try to concentrate all my thought into each hard punch I through against it. Trying to control my breathing, make everything breath count as I try to keep myself from getting out of breath as I begin throw harder and faster punches.

Hit after hit I feel the pressure build in my arms as my muscles flex and bulge and move to transfer all the power in my arms, through to my fists which pound the hell out of the bag. I try to maintain my footing, make sure that I don't loose my concentration, making sure that my rhythm is consistent and unchanging as I throw punch after punch.

My pace quickens as I feel the memory that I'm trying to fight out of me being ignorant and consistent on my mind. It's starting to take control of me, her face her eyes the softness of her skin. The softness of her lips when she kissed me that night, and also when she was violating my mind.

I can't help but remember that she did kiss me when I was asleep, when I thought I was dreaming, when I thought that those mind blowing kisses were just a dream I open my eyes and push her to the floor. It hadn't occurred to me that Emma was actually kissing me when I was asleep, I guess she was lucky that I didn't know it yet, cause God knows that I'd probably make her cry even harder then I did before.

I hit the bag harder and I feel the anger flow from my heart all the way to my arms, to my fists and ending up in the bag. The bag is swaying more violently as I begin to feel the anger push it harder.

But soon enough the anger coming from my fists change into something else. Something that I don't know how to explain, I guess it was confusion, yeah it was confusion I'm hitting this bag for a different reason.

I hit this bag faster as I jab it with my left then come around for jab from the my right, then I jab the poor thing so many times with my left before I finish it off with a knock-out from my right. To bad knocking out this bag, pretending that it was my enemy didn't really get rid of what I was feeling. Nope, still there, like an ignorant bitch it's still there, no mercy.

I just don't understand it, that's probably why I'm holding on to the bag with my right while I jab at it so many times with my left that I swear that I can feel a tear from the skin on my knuckles.

But that doesn't stop me as I hit the bag harder, letting out grunt after grunt of exertion but going faster and faster. I switch positions as I feel my knuckles hurting on my left hand.

So I keep beating the living hell out of that bag with my right as I feel tears flooding my eyes as I try to get the image of Emma's crying out of my head. It's killing me, she's killing me, and what the hell did she do to me.

I stop hitting the bag for a moment as I try to control the flashes of memories of Emma's crying and her yelling out of my mind. I take a breath and let it out as I hold onto the bag for balance, as I feel dizzy with all these images flooding my mind. I close my eyes and try to control my breathing, I try to stop them but they keep coming, those images of Emma on top of me kissing and touching me.

Her giggle that made me smile, that question that I didn't understand since I was so God damn drunk. That hand that placed itself so close to my head, that hair of hers that rested itself against my skin that tickled me, now that I think about it. Her face that looked at me through the dark, and those fingers that touched my lips before she kissed me.

I feel more frustrations as the images come from calming me to irritating me as I realize that I'm thinking of her in a more than friendly way. So I push my self off of the bag and demand my body to work like it should as I try to warm myself up for another round with the bag that doesn't have any arms to punch me back.

I start out calmly as I try to get my momentum back, then I start to hit the now beat up bag a little faster. Faster and faster until my fists are like silver bullets as the white tape on my hands move through the speed of light to hit that bag as if my life depended on it. I keep my momentum, moving jabs from the left to the right, then two to the left and then three to the right coming back to two lefts before hitting the bag with a knockout punch from my right.

I smirk through controlled intakes of breath as I try my hardest to imagine that I'm fighting the best boxer in the world for the title. It's stupid and kinda lame, but it keeps my mind off of Emma so I enjoy the false sounds of people cheering for me in the stands as I pretend to avoid my opponent's fists.

I'm hitting my opponent with my best combo and as I'm about to finish my interpretation of how his face should look like after I'm done with him I hear a voice call me out. "Hey Shalimar! Are yeah listening to me?" the voice keeps calling out to me in my mind as I finish my opponent off with my right hand knockout punch.

I turn away from the bag and try to control my breathing as I look around for the voice that called out to me only moments ago. After a moment I look up to the banister above me when I hear the voice say to me, "Hey, Shalimar, enjoy your workout?" It's Jesse and I smile at his question before saying, "yeah, more or less".

I look up to him as I grab the towel off of its place on a chair and begin to dry the now cooling sweat off of my face. "Well you looked pretty hot, I'd think twice if I were your opponent after watching that." Jesse comments as I laugh at the flattery.

"Thanks for the compliment" "no problem Shal, ah by the way Adam wants to see you in his lab right away." "Yeah?" I respond, automatically thinking of the worse. "Ok, I'll be there in a minute". I reply as I move to walk up the stairs and head for the lab.