*Abusive Scene*

     I tighten my fists around the tangled sheets that are currently clenched tightly in my hands, my back arched off the bed I'm using to support my weight with.

     I'm currently halfway spread across my bed as Frances beats my upper back with his small, yet painful hand whip. My knees on the hard floor, my upper body up on top of the bed.

     This is the fifth day in a row Frances has ever-so-loudly stormed in here at five o'clock in the morning, jerking me awake from my dead sleep and sending my heart into a frenzy as he flings open my cell door and literally rips me off the bed, immediately going onto assault me with a relentless whipping on my clothed back before I can even comprehend what's happening.

    He's still standing over me, smacking me with that godforsaken whip. My back has thankfully healed from when he savagely whipped me last week - when I didn't have any clothes on to protect my back. But now my whole upper back is tender from these five days, obviously irritated even with the protection of clothes.

     And my quick check in the mirror yesterday confirmed my suspicions about it being red and swollen.

   Because it is.

   I grind my teeth together in a attempt to keep any noises from coming out. Because if that's another thing I've learned; don't make any noises or sudden moves.....don't flinch.

    Because he just feeds off that.

    I guess this is just one of his many strategies to rid me of my.....feelings.

    And it's working. Each day I can feel myself shutting off everything, my mind going on autopilot as I go through my now daily routine Frances has me doing.

     Which is what he wanted.

     The tears don't come as easily as they did before, and I've managed to contain all the panic attacks, the shaking, the memories.

     Keeping it all inside. Just like he wanted.

     I feel blood abruptly spill into my mouth as I bite my lip too hard, Frances hitting me a little rougher this time.

     I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing deeply in through my nose.

    Just a little longer Alex. You can do it. Hold it in.

    My chest grows tighter with each passing second, my mind not liking the predicament at all.

    Don't move. Keep everything contained inside and he'll stop.

    He suddenly hits me extra hard right over a particularly tender section on my shoulder, and I push my face down in the mattress in a attempt to stifle the small cry of pain I couldn't hold in.

     He suddenly stops.

     I keep my face down in the mattress, my hands tightening even tighter on the sheets.

     I wince as he suddenly grabs the hair on top of my head, painfully jerking my neck up to look at him.

    I breath through my nose, trying to mask my rapid breathing. My hands still balled up in the sheets.

    He stares impassively down at me, his right hand with the whip still posed up above his head. Preparing to strike.

    I keep my eyes on his face, already knowing that if I don't give him eye contact he'll just beat me up more.

    Because that's how he works. The complete opposite of....Razim.

    "Did I hear you say something, Alex?" He says my name like he's simply talking about a piece of trash.

     I open my mouth, licking my parched and cracked lips before I answer. "N-No, sir." I wince as I stutter, my tense body only tensing more. Heartbeat picking up.

     He roughly shakes my head, his eyes lighting in anger. "Not the answer I was looking for. And a stutter too. What a shame, I was getting ready to stop."

     I open my mouth again, only to snap it shut as I'm suddenly smacked hard across my right cheek, my head jerking back. I feel my skin rip open as the whip tears the soft skin at the bottom of my cheek. A barely contained shout of pain getting stuck in my throat.

   My eyes sting, my throat burning.

   He jerks my head back up to his face, my scalp screaming in pain.

   "No stuttering. No movements. And no noises." He sternly lists off. "I believe I made that perfectly clear to you five days ago." He throws my head distastefully down, tossing something down on the bed before walking away.

    My chest feels like it's going to explode it's so, so tight. A urge to completely collapse and cry like a three year old suddenly hitting me harder than Frances was.

    But I don't. I keep it inside. No matter how painful it grows and swells.

    "Bring him up in a hour, Felix." I hear Frances instruct, then his boot clad feet stomp down the hallway.

     I let a shaky breath out, carefully sliding down so I'm sitting on the stone floor. My back and cheek now numb. I stare down at my lap with empty eyes, the world not meaning anything to me at the moment.

     I jerk my head to the left as something freezing cold suddenly touches my stinging right cheek, my eyes snapping over to the right.

    Felix is standing to my right, a small ice pack in his hand as he lightly holds it on my cheek.

    I stare at him a second. Then taking it from him, I continue to hold it on my smarting cheek.

    I watch as he wordlessly exits my cell, shutting the door before he too leaves the area.

    So much for even possible thinking Felix might be on my side. He's done nothing since helping me that day, can't even look at me longer than two seconds. Always in the background unless Frances has him helping with something, ignoring me.

    Though I should be grateful for the ice pack I suppose.

    I slowly lift myself up onto the bed, wincing the whole time as my back flares with fresh pain. I stare down at the paper Frances had thrown onto the bed, gently picking it up.

    Numbers mark the whole paper. Bold letters spelling out 'August' on the top of the page.

   My eyes slightly widen as I realize it's a calendar, shock running through me as I finally figure out what the exact date is.

   Sunday, August seventh.

   My chest grows heavy.

   It's been over two weeks since that day. I'd already guessed it was somewhere around that number, but I didn't want to be right.

   I sigh, looking it over again.

   Bold red lines cross out the numbers one through six, a big circle going around the sixteenth.

   My breath catches as I realize what it means.

   It's only a little over a week until my first scheduled fight.

    I hear the door open down the hall again, and Felix brings my breakfast tray inside the cell before leaving.

    I take a seat at my little table, staring down at the plate of food with zero interest.

    Not feeling the least bit hungry, but knowing it leads to a far harsher punishment than what I just got. I pick up my fork, still using my right hand to hold the ice pack to my cheek.

~~~*~~~

    One, two, three, four, five..six...seven....eight.....

    I let a big breath out as I lift the weight up into the air for the ninth time in a row, my arms beginning to tremble with the effort.

   It's now four o'clock P.M. After I finished with breakfast, I'd been escorted back to the gym. Frances starting me out with my usual warmup exercises, continuing on until lunch, which had consisted of a protein packed smoothie and a protein bar.

    Delicious.

    Since lunch I've been doing some different weightlifting techniques which Frances had me start four days ago, a few rounds with the heavybag mixed with running on a treadmill, and pull-ups.

   I'm currently on a bench press, lying on my back as I lift a seventy pound weight up and down.

    Not as fun as it sounds.

    I do the tenth one in a row, placing the heavy metal bar back on its wrack.

    "Take a minute breather while you wrap your hands. Then it's up in the ring." Frances instructs, looking over a paper that's in his hands.

    I sit up, wiping the sleeve of my hoodie over my forehead to gather all the sweat that's coating it. Being careful not to hit the fresh wound on my cheek.

    Felix walks over, handing me my handwraps. Then he sits down on a bench a few feet away, wrapping his own hands.
   
    I feel nervousness twist in my gut, my hands suddenly giving small trembles.

    I frown, forcing them to be still as I wrap each hand, my mind having already memorized how to do it.

     I finish a few seconds after Felix, standing up to follow him into the ring. I grab a pair of sparring gloves off a hook, pulling them onto my hands. Just like Felix.

     I duck under the ropes, wincing as it slides against my tender back. Walking to the middle of the cushioned ring, I stand facing Felix as I await instructions.

    Frances takes his time walking over to the ring. Once he gets here, he places his elbows on top of the rubber padded rope, taking a drag from his cigar as he gazes over at us. His body relaxed as he leans into his elbows.

  "Alright, let's start with the correct stance." Frances leans forward. "Starting with your upper body, you should always have your chin down towards your chest and not sticking out."

  Felix angles his chin downwards, showing a example.

  "Your rear hand - which would be your left since you're right handed, should be guarding the outside of your chin at all times. The rear guard is responsible for parrying jabs and blocking your opponent's lead hook."

  "Then your lead hand - your right, should be around six inches away from your chin, aligned just below. This allows you to throw fast jabs, quickly block your opponent's rear hand and parry jabs and crosses to the body." He goes on, a bored expression on his face.

    Felix has his hands up the way Frances just explained, his eyes set on the wall straight in front of him.

   "Elbows stay tucked in unless you're punching. And you should slightly stand sideways."

    "You should be in a position where your entire chest is not directly facing your opponent, which means there's less target area for your opponent."

   "Now for your lower body. Your knees should always be bent slightly to give your entire body support and to produce power. But you should always be able to bend them even more if you need to avoid incoming punches."

  "And your feet should be spread apart so they're a few inches past the outside of your shoulder width."

"Your lead foot - your right foot, should be at a ten to fifteen degree angle while your rear foot - your left, should be positioned at an angle of around forty-five degrees."

  "Stand on the balls of your rear foot and lift the heel slightly. This will allow you to move around quicker whether for offense or defense purposes. And Your lead foot should be flat and firmly planted on the mat."

  "And very importantly, keep your weight centered. It should be evenly distributed between your front and back legs. Not all the weight on one specific leg. That just spells disaster."

   I copy everything he just said, setting my stance up.

  "Now for defending."

   He stares over at me. "Remember; "To hit and not get hit" is the name of the game." He recites.

   "Footwork - you need quick feet to bounce in to attack and then bounce out to defend. Which you've already been practicing with the bag."

   "Slipping is where you turn your hips and shoulders slightly to avoid a punch coming towards you."

   "Moving your head sideways and bending your knees to evade incoming punches and then popping back up in a position to punch is referred to as the bob and weave technique - a very important one mind you."

    "To effectively block punches, you need to take punches on your shoulders, and arms. Parrying is keeping your hands up to slap punches away - another important tool."

     "Let's move onto the fun part now: attacking."

      "There are five main punches."

      "Let's start with the Jab." He motions to Felix. "Face each other."

     Felix walks up to me, standing a few feet away. I hold my hands up like he explained, waiting for the example.
  
     Felix quickly snaps his left arm outwards, his right fist staying protectively up against the side of his face, chin angled down.

    His gloved fist stops a inch away from my face, his right arm fully extended. His movements smooth and controlled.

    His quickly brings it back to his face, prepared for the next example.

    "The cross."

    Felix pivots his rear foot, leaning forward slightly as he bends his knees, his body rotating.

    He keep his right fist up against his chin this time, his left snapping out to stop at my forehead.

    I feel a breeze come off that one. All his power behind it as he executes it like a pro.

   "The hook."
 
   He rotates his body to the right as he simultaneously swings his right arm in a ninety degree angle, his knees slightly bending while he pivots on his right foot.

   His fist stops next to the side of my head this time, his other fist still protecting his tucked in chin.
   
   He immediately goes back into the standard stance, eyes impassive.

   "The uppercut."

   He bends his knees, rotating his body as he throws a punch up from his waist. His gloved fist just barely brushes against my chin, his left hand still up at his chin.

    "The overhand."

    Felix leans to the outside of his right foot, his knees bending as he swings his left fist out, his elbow bending in a arch.

   His fist comes downward from its position above his now bent head, it brushing against the side of my cheek in a downwards angle.
    
    He goes back into his stance. Waiting.

   I process everything. Some of it already making since to me from past...experiences.

   "Now since you're going to be the youngest boxer we have around here, you're going to have to approach this a little....differently." Frances smiles, his burn stretching with it.

    "Most of the boxers we have competing around here are blubbering idiots that just want to pummel you until you're a broken pile of withering bones."

  "But you, kid. You've got something they don't have: intelligence." He points to the side of his head.

   "I've read your file. I know all you've done, all you've accomplished."

   "So when you're in that ring, facing your opponent. You want to do what most of them don't even bother with. Examine him, look for his weaknesses, his soft spots."

    "Figure out more about him then he even knows about himself." Frances finishes, eyeing me.

    "Which with what you did before, I can tell you already know exactly what I'm talking about."

     Sadly I do.

    He continues to stare at me, taking another long drag of his cigar.

    "Alright, boys!" He suddenly shouts. "Saddle up because it's about to get real." He cracks his knuckles.

     "Time for some real sparring now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N

     Heeeeey!!! So yup, look at this, just loooook! I actually updated within a week! Yay! (I'm so proud of myself.😁)

    And I even updated The Unknown World last week if you didn't know. 😉 (I've been very busy with writing.👌🏻)

    Happy 4th of July everyone!!🎇🎆🎇🎆 Call this update a present from me.😜

    So, guys, I may or may not be working on a little surprise....😏 Now I don't know when it will be revealed, (Hopefully within two weeks.) but I'm like super excited about it.

   Any guesses as to what it might be??

   Next update: Next week hopefully.

    Oh, and I'm sorry if you were confused during the whole explaining about boxing thing. I tried my best, but I'm not a expert (though I do find it exciting 😆) by any means and I probably did something wrong. So sorry, but it was difficult just to get all that together XD.

    So Vote! Comment! Have a good day!

Until next time,
Maggy