four ◌ mental strength

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It's mind boggling and mentally exhausting to contemplate the decisions we make as individuals. That every moment in our lives, no matter how tiny and insignificant, leads to many more moments. Cause and effect. That Thursday night in May, I let Niall drive me home after training. Normally, I free run the 1.5 miles to enjoy those minutes by myself. However, deciding to hitch a ride with Niall meant arriving to our penthouse three minutes earlier, and missing those three minutes would have altered this entire night.

"Kat," I breathed. I looked upwards, making out the shattered glass of our living room window. In the anarchic hub, I caught glimpse of a signature, black ponytail. She stood by the wide open window, surrounded by a group of people in all black.

I didn't have to think twice before I sprinted around the corner of my apartment building to the lobby doors. Quickly, I punched in the five-digit code into the keypad before the small light above the glass doors turned bright green, allowing myself access into the luxury building. I went straight for the corridor of elevators, punching the up-arrow button in a haste. The doors never opened, and the marquee that normally shined floor numbers wasn't on-- the elevators were out of service.

I ran.

I had no choice. Kat was in trouble and she needed my help. I knew that when she traded in her boxing gloves for a pair of pompoms it was a mistake. But cheerleading made her so fucking happy I couldn't argue with her; couldn't beg her to continue martial arts training with me. Nevertheless, my sister was resilient, and she was a fighter.

"I'm coming Kat."

I sprinted up the stairwell of my building, feeling nothing but adrenaline pump through my veins. The soreness I once felt in my muscles disappeared, and with each step, I garnered more physical energy to make it up twenty-one stories. The mental strength on the other hand, was a different story. I kept replaying Kat's scream over and over again, using it as motivation to find the thugs who had my sister.

It was on the tenth floor, did I distinctly hear the sounds of struggle echo in the stairwell. I could hear Kat's yelps mixed with a tornado of fury. I leaned over the railing, gazing up into the opening to find a blur of black, white, and metal.

"Just blast her on the side of the head to shut her up," the voice was deep and laced with anger, but they knew nothing about ire until coming face to face with me.

"Don't you fucking dare!" I charged at full force, kicking one of the men in the back. He slammed face-first against the opposing wall.

"Ate!" Kat called out, surprise painted all over her face. Her lip was cut open, blood flowing onto her chin, and her normally pristine hair was falling out of the rubber band that held a tidy ponytail.

(pronunciation & translation: ah-teh - older sister)

The other thug let go of Kat, giving her a moment to run. She would've gotten away if it weren't for the floored thug to grab her ankle. Both men wore all black; ski masks covering their faces except for the eyes. One had deep, brown eyes, while the other had a pair of icy, grey ones.

Brown eyes held onto Kat with a tight grip, who continued to fight through the struggle. Grey eyes however, was blood thirsty. With an eerie opulence, he stared demonically at me. Something told me he played with his food before eating it, and even though I was scared for my life, I also was in no mood to be toyed around with.

Grey eyes lunged forward, attempting to strike a punch in my face, but twelve years of martial arts prepped me to see that one coming. With ease, I dodged the fist, and countered with a jab into his throat. Grey eyes teetered for a moment before regaining his balance, realizing what type of girl he was dealing with.

"We're trying. These girls can fucking fight. We weren't informed of this," brown eyes seemed to be talking to someone through a headpiece beneath his mask. I glared at him, his statement swirling through my mind.

We weren't informed of this.

It was as if they weren't expecting Kat and I to know how to defend ourselves; that they expected their victims to be weak. But whomever these men were working for, didn't do their research thoroughly. Which also meant that this attack wasn't a pair of robbers trying to steal our things. This wasn't an accident— this was a planned kidnapping.

Despite the bruises that became the evidence to hours of training with Liam, everything he taught me seemed to evaporate from my brain. I was distracted, and couldn't multitask through the interference. Deciphering brown eyes' statement, and prepping for an incoming strike of danger only jumbled my mind.

"Shit," I groaned, falling onto the tiled floor. I held onto my jaw as grey eyes hovered above me with the devil's shadow dancing in his glare.

He arched his foot back and attempted to ram it into my chest. Before he could however, I used swift force to strike the side of my hand into his shin. The vigor used to neutralize grey eyes, was enough to make it feel like his shin hit a wooden table. He let out a grunt, taking a few steps backwards.

Brown eyes, who had my sister, began to take her down the stairs. I quickly swung my legs from underneath me, swiping it across his ankles. He fell down the flight of stairs, taking Kat with him. I ran down the steps, grabbed Kat's wrist and pulled her up.

"Are you badly hurt?" I asked, concern washing over me as my eyes trailed over her body. Covered in bruises and wounds, Kat still stood strong. I was right— my sister was indeed a fighter.

"No, let's go!" Kat pulled onto my hand, leading me down the stairs.

Behind us, I could hear the heavy footsteps of the two men trailing close. I honestly thought we could get away by just outrunning them, but when the bullets began to fly, I knew that it was time switch up the plan.

"Kat, stay quiet," I pushed her towards the wall, making sure she was as flat against it as possible. I crouched opposite of her, keeping myself against the railing and out of eyesight until just the right time.

"Ate," Kat whispered.

I looked at her, and with her eyes, she motioned for the floor. My gaze fell to the ground, where I found a piece of broken tile near my foot. Kat took her hair out of the elastic while I grabbed the tile. After tossing the jagged piece of ceramic to my sister, she fastened together a simple slingshot. Brown eyes came into view first, which meant he was Kat's first victim. With impeccable aim, Kat shot the sharp slice of tile right into the face of brown eyes.

"Good job Kat," I told her as I stood up from my crouching position, and disarmed brown eyes by twisting his arm. The gun fell from his hand and I kicked the weapon over to Kat who immediately grabbed it.

"Ate! Behind you!" Kat warned. Before I could even think about it, I immediately threw myself behind the body of brown eyes, using him as a shield the same moment grey eyes shot his gun several times.

"Run Kat!" I yelled through the round of bullets as brown eyes' limp body fell on top of me. "Now, Kat! Run!"

Using brown eyes' body as a protection did two things for me: one, he died not me. And two, I saw an ornate tattoo on on the back of his neck. The black ink was distinctive, creating a symbol similar to a Mandala design. In those seconds behind brown eyes, I tried my hardest to memorize the tattoo for future reference.

When the shooting stopped for a moment, I mustered the rest of my strength and pushed brown eyes' body off of mine, and towards the direction of grey eyes. Doing this only hindered him for a second or two, but in this situation every second counted. I ran as fast as I could down the step, skipping several by climbing onto the railing and carefully leaping onto landing below.

"The hell?" I shook the metal handle of one of the doors that lead to the eighth floor. However, it wouldn't budge open. This was no coincidence— this was done on purpose. This entire plot was methodically planned, but why?

Suddenly, I felt a sweltering, sharp pain sear my left arm and instantaneously I threw my right hand to the wound. I bit my bottom lip from the extreme ache that coursed through my entire body. Blood began to spill from my arm, through my fingers, and there could only be one reason.

"The next bullet is heading straight for your fucking head little girl."

I spun on my heel, meeting grey eyes. He loomed before me, standing on the top landing of the staircase in front of me. I wasted no time in getting myself out of there, running out of the way just as another two bullets blasted from the pistol. As I ran down the stairs, I had to figure out a way to disarm him.

So I stopped running. I climbed over the railing, and with all my might, I hung onto it from the other side, waiting for grey eyes to come strolling by. My arm was killing me— I was in so much pain, but I knew the key to survive was mental strength. This was exactly what Hex has been teaching me for the last twelve years, and there was no way I was going to let his lectures go to waste.

Grey eye's ankles were right in front of me. In one breath, I reached my good arm through the iron poles and grabbed onto his ankle. With a rapid tug, I caused grey eyes to trip and tumble onto the staircase. Carefully, I eased myself back onto the steps before running towards the ski-masked thug. As grey eyes stood up, fumbling with his gun, I roundhouse kicked his hand, causing him to drop the weapon down the flight of stairs.

"Funny, your father never told us you could fight," Grey eyes was demeaning as he spoke.

"It's our little secret," I sneered.

I went for it. I bolted myself towards the man, throwing punches and dodging his blows as the two of us sparred on the staircase landing. I was doing pretty well, until grey eyes decided to play a little nasty and stuck his finger into my bullet wound. As he dug around in my wound, I let out a yell, collapsing onto my knees from the agonizing pain. Grey eyes turned away from me, running down the steps towards the gun. I chased after him, throwing in some parkour in the process. Grabbing onto the railing with a tight grip, I swung my entire body around, grabbing momentum as I did so. Both my legs slammed into grey eyes, causing him to crash into the wall.

When I landed, I went straight for the gun that still lay on the floor. Unfortunately for me, my wrist was snatched. I was spun forcefully around, and though I tried to fight grey eyes off, he punched my bad arm, encumbering me. He pushed me towards the wall, and I could feel his hot, dirty breath fan against my neck. He smelled strongly of cigarettes and cinnamon gum.

"You're dead," he snarled, harshly pressing the front of my body against the wall. "This was supposed to be a fucking easy job— in and out. I wasn't planning on losing a man. Who knew Julius Aquino raised assassins?"

Hearing my dad's name slither out of this man's mouth made my entire body shiver with anger. How dare he mention my father, spitting out his name like venom. My dad was a good man who loved his family. Screw anyone believed otherwise. Pain didn't flow through my blood, and fear was no longer in my system. Instead, all that was left was fury.

Channelling all my anger, I kicked grey eyes in the shin with as much force as I could. I pushed him backwards slightly trying escape his grip.

"You little bitch," he roared angrily, gripping onto my arm fiercely and shoving me back towards the wall.

This time, I didn't fight him. I used his strength as momentum because when I finally reached the wall, I ran up it. I ran up the wall till I hit my peak and flipped over grey eyes. The second I landed I kicked him in the back and grabbed the gun next to my foot. He face planted against the wall, falling slightly. Part of his jacket became loose, and that's when I saw the ink on the back of his neck. Identical to the tattoo that decorated brown eyes, the ornate skin decoration also embellished grey eyes.

"I'm not an assassin," spat, and before I could give him another second to collect himself, I cocked the gun.

Aiming for his leg, I pulled the trigger. Grey eyes yelped, the deep growl resonating against the stairwell walls as the bullet penetrated into his calf. I kept the gun with me as I sprinted down the rest of the flight of stairs. I didn't dare look back, but I also didn't dare lose focus. My senses worked into overdrive as I continued my trek back down to the lobby. My mother was still outside and I prayed with everything in me that someone noticed her. Or maybe Kat saw her and called the police.

When my body met the cool air outside, I tried my best to regain my breath. Insanely exhausted didn't even begin to describe how I felt. I just wanted this whole thing to be over, but on that Thursday night in May, it didn't work out the way I wanted. When I turned the corner of the building where I left my mother, I let my body fall against the cool granite wall.

"Ate."

I looked up, and fear washed over me like an acidic shower. Frozen, I stood still as my eyes locked onto Kat's glossy ones. A gun was pressed against her skull, her neck locked in the arm of another masked man. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, terror flushed with every drop. Her left arm was profusely bleeding, around the same area where I got shot.

"Let her go, please," I begged. "We have money. How much do you want? Please!"

A ghastly chuckle only escaped the masked thug. The two of them stood in front of a black van with its side door wide open. That's when the inside light turned on, giving spotlight to another figure— mom. She was lying on the floor of the van as if carelessly thrown inside; as if she were some object that could be tossed aside.

"Let Kat go and give us our mom!" I demanded. "Please! Take me instead!"

The masked bandits said no words. They simple turned off the light and within a second, Kat was quickly pulled in. I chased after her, but my energy was no where near 100%, and was too slow. Right before my eyes, Kat was kidnapped, the black vehicle speeding away.

"Kat!" I screamed, running after the van. My eyes darted to the license plate, but before I could memorize a single character, a black piece of armor slid into its place, protecting the numbers. I cursed to myself, frustrated with the outcome. I almost died to save my sister, but in the end, she still got captured.

I was beginning to lose consciousness. The amount of blood I lost from my bullet wound was endless, and my equilibrium was becoming unbalanced. I started for the backpack, planning to use my phone to finally call the police. My bag still sat against the curb, shards of glass surrounding it. Peculiarly though, the car my mom fell onto, was nowhere to be seen. Where the car should be, it wasn't. It was as if it disappeared on the spot. If it weren't for the shattered glass that littered the sidewalk, no one would've ever known something suspicious ever happened.

The moment my fingertips grazed the canvas material of my bag, the shrill of screeching tires shocked my ears. I looked up to find an idle black car in front of me. The windows slowly rolled down, as I reached for the gun in the back of my pants. When the glass fully sank into the window pane, a pair of green eyes locked onto mine.

"Get in the fucking car, Aquino!"

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» author's note «

What did you think? Lots of action, but Tasha gives no mercy. Also, how freaky is it that they took her mother's body away along with Kat?

Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter and if you did please, please, please vote for it! :) Leave me some comments as well. Opinions, theories, constructive feedback, etc. Thank you!!