To Be Strong (AH)

Kevin couldn’t sleep.

For the past two or three hours he tossed and turned, wanting to find slumber. Instead, all he got was wasted time and a mind that continued to work with no signs of stopping anytime soon. That was how it always worked, didn’t it? In the later hours, the brain toiled over things that either didn’t matter or were too late to change. In this case, it was a little bit of both as his psyche subjected him to a constantly revolving loop of those months he spent at the group home.

Weak.

Kevin shifted in his bed as his sheets became a little too warm to find comfortable. weak. Amidst visual recollections of violence, he could hear that voice, HER voice as if she were right beside him. Raspy, sharp and spewing ill intent, all coated in a southern drawl that could amplify whatever emotions were conveyed in her words. Most cases? It was hatefulness. This time was no exception. Venom laced every utterance of the word as it replayed in his brain. Weak. If anyone could see it, Kevin visibly winced every time he heard it as his feet kicked away blankets. His hands reached up to cover eyes that were already shut as the mental images became more vivid, that voice growing cclearer every second. It was like being underwater and hearing things better the closer one was to the surface…but Kevin didn’t want to hear this, he wanted it to remain murky and sunken into the depths. Louder it became, over and over again-

Weak.

Weak.

WEAK!

Kevin’s eyes snapped open like someone raised the dead. He stared off at the wall, face half-buried into a pillow as he laid face down. Those flashbacks haunted him like a ghost, but it seemed that it subsided for now. He remained prone for several minutes. He said nothing, just letting the silence envelop him after countless seconds of being assaulted by his own conscience. Then, as if possessed, Kevin rose to his feet. Grabbing a hoodie and joggers, Kevin dressed himself and left his dorm with a purpose in his step.

As soon as the cold Bay air hit his back, Kevin ran into the night. He didn’t have a direction or a length of time…he just wanted to run. It was obvious that he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, so the boy decided to sweat out that which loomed over him. If his weakness ate at him, then he would just improve his body until it wasn’t weak anymore. Long legs carried him in great strides as Kevin galloped across both paved paths and unbeaten brush. Where he once tried to sleep away his insecurities, Kevin now drew on them when his lungs grew heavy with fatigue:

Weak.

Kevin pushed himself, even as his muscles began to burn and he felt like he exerted more than he could replenish with his lungs. His face and ears began to turn red as the blood pumped through his veins. Even though his chest huffed and heaved the longer he went, Kevin knew quitting meant that he agreed with what his proverbial ghost called him.

Weak. Kevin kept moving.

It was funny…Kevin felt like one of those race horses that had a carrot dangled in front of it as an incentive to run towards the goal. That or he was being chased down and was trying his damnedest to not be swallowed up by what was behind him. One way or another, he was motivated…but as Kevin jogged along, motivation could only carry someone so far for so long. He’d been running for a while; as much as he wanted to keep going, as much as his spirit didn’t want to accept limitations, his body had no choice.

Kevin fell in a heap into a patch of grass. He couldn’t get air into his lungs fast enough as he laid on his stomach. He’d lazily push himself over to roll onto his back, where he spread his limbs out and stared up to the open air. He could feel the dew begin to seep into his clothes, the cold dampness stimulating his senses just enough to keep him awake. NOW he wanted to sleep, but he knew this would have been one shitty workout if he stopped now. Still, Kevin knew he wasn’t going to be able to do much if he got up right then. His legs were on fire, his face was flush and he was gasping for air. Come to think of it, all that marijuana lately most likely did him no favors. So he laid there, watching the stars glitter over a dark sky.

His mind began to wander in those few minutes he laid there. It was shocking that security wasn’t out. Hell, it shocked him that especially now, there wasn’t a patrol. One would think the delinauent school would have a perennial watch detail, especially at night…Kevin had to laugh at it. Especially out in those woods…Lord knows how much crazy shit goes down out there if it ain’t no supervision. Probably hella orgies n’shit! That last one really made him laugh until something tickled his lungs, forcing him to cough a few times. Kevin regained himself and reached for his phone to check the time.

12:18AM. Time to get back to work.

Kevin slowly but surely rose from the ground, wiping off grass and moisture from his backside. Opting to take it slow at first, Kevin took a leisurely stroll towards the forest. From there, long legs and feet went towards the paths less travelled as beaten dirt was instead replaced by inclines, shrubs, rocks and unsure footing. Kevin traversed it well enough, somehow making it along without rolling an ankle. He continued onward, still not going anywhere specific but the little hike helped him recover. Suddenly, Kevin’s ears perked up---he heard something. Kevin’s first thought was to check by his shoes---I swear to God, if somethin’ fuckin’ bites me I’ma be hot---but whatever it was didn’t sound like an animal. It was off in the distance, a little to Kevin’s left…curiosity lured him in. What was now a relaxing trek through woodland now became a moment of discovery. He laid low, creeping out of the thick of the bushes and trees to take a path and keep his movements quiet. He knew he was getting closer because the sound of rustling leaves and grass became louder, along with some other noise. He had to stop and ask himself the question:

Did he hear somebody fucking?

Sure enough, the thought allowed Kevin to make out what he was hearing---moans in particular. Two young lovers, deep in the passionate throes of love…or most likely two horny teens getting their rocks off outside because they knew nobody would be checking. Too bad they had a peeping Tom in Kevin, who crept behind a bush to watch the whole thing. Several times he had to hold his mouth shut or bite his hand to keep from laughing hysterically. And just when it seemed the male was close to the big moment:

“Yooo, that’s crazy! Y’all fuckin’ in the woods!”

Even after watching some of the students fight, Kevin never saw someone move as fast as the two when they heard Kevin’s outburst. The girl let out a frightened “HOLY SHIT!” while the boy leapt up, completely naked and looking like he just saw Bigfoot. The second that their eyes locked on Kevin, he darted away in a fit of uncontrollable laughter while the two lovebirds threw a slew of obscenities in his direction.

Kevin jogged out of the woods, still tickled with laughter at what he just witnessed. Sure, he imagined the orgies but never would have thought kids really got down out there. Now I gotta make sure I don’t sit on nobody’s mess when I’m out there, he thought. For a moment Kevin stood as he surveyed the area. He saw the main campus and the dorm buildings, but took notice of the rec center further in the distance. Once again, Kevin checked the clock on his mobile device. 1:12AM. At this point, Kevin felt it was too early to go back to his room, so off to the rec center he went. It took a while and Kevin went at a slow pace but he reached the building and was pleasantly surprised to find it still open at this hour. However, the chances were that despite these kids probably needing a curfew, there were plenty who could do well with a 24-hour access to the gym or whatever may pique their interest. After all, there were most likely cameras somewhere around here. Taking a deep breath, Kevin pondered what to do next: he knew for sure that he didn’t need ANY more cardio. He could hit the weights, get his strength up and start upgrading the guns from peashooters to some buckshot biceps…but instead, Kevin opted for a row of heavy punching bags on the far side.

There was a man setting off to the side, obviously older. Considering Kevin never saw him before, he either did something like night security or was just on the island after dark and lived in the city, which Kevin considered rare. His salt & pepper hair was combed back and neat, though perspiration threatened to fray it some. He wore a gray tee and black shorts in simple trainers. A glance was passed in Kevin’s direction before he nodded to acknowledge Kevin’s presence. Kevin returned the gesture before squaring up on a bag. It was like always---fists balled tight by his jaw, feet planted to the floor in southpaw stance. Kevin psyched himself up, juking a few times with his head or shoulders before throwing a few stiff punches into the leather. He was mostly quiet---save for a few sparse grunts, the only sound that could be heard was Kevin’s knuckles connecting with the bag. He tried to find a groove; Kevin wasn’t used to working a punching bag or the routines of practicing technique. He didn’t realize that the man off in the corner took notice. After several minutes, he’d raise up to his feet and interject.

“It’s your breathing,” he said. Kevin dropped his arms and looked over his shoulder, taking a few breaths before responding. “…What?”

“Your breathing,” the man repeated. His tone was raspy, almost sounding irritated or worn out as if he were hoarse. He looked at Kevin with dull green eyes that held a certain spark behind them. “You punch and hold your breath, and it cuts off your circulation, just makes everything tense.”

“Wait, and you think you can tell me how to fight…how, exactly?” Kevin didn’t even try to hide his skepticism. However, some things became apparent: first, this man wasn’t but a couple of inches shorter than Kevin’s staggering 6 feet and 4 inches as a freshman. Second, for his apparent age, the man appeared to be in decent shape. Third?

The man’s accent was similar to his. This spectator parted his lips as if to say something but Kevin cut him off. “A’ight, look. I don’t breathe or whatever. What’s that gotta do with-“

“You might feel more powerful or that you’re throwing a hard punch because you’re so tight, but it’s the opposite. If your body’s tense, it can’t exert as much force as fast as---wait, I think I’ve seen you before…aren’t you that kid who dances around here?”

Kevin cocked an eyebrow at the question. “Wait, how do ya even…the fuck?”

“Apparently, you have fans. They must’ve recorded you a couple times. I’ve seen ‘em…you’re pretty good, kid.”

“Just ‘pretty good’? Yo, do you know how many guys my size can actually break? How many tall b-boys you know? That’s right, none---“

“BACK TO MY POINT, when you dance…you make sure you’re loose and you flow well. If you don’t flow well, you can’t move like you want. You might hurt yourself. Right?”

Kevin still looked confused. “Yeah, but what’s my dancin’ gotta do with throwin’ hands?”

“Everything.” The calmness in the male’s voice accentuated just how prolific the idea was in Kevin’s head. “A lot of kids who come up untrained, they might learn some good instincts but a lot of them…they think power just means strength. There’s finesse, there’s technique, there are SO many things that involve just throwing a punch…breathe. Every time you throw that punch, breathe.”

“So…just breathe when I throw a shot?”

“Yes, exhale when you shoot the punch.” Kevin slowly nodded and turned to face the bag, assuming his stance once more. He was getting ready to throw another punch when the man stopped him again. “Oh, and loosen up. You’re too stiff. Light on your feet, drop your shoulders and for the love of God, loosen up that fist. Don’t ball it until you’re about to make contact.” Kevin shook his head but did accordingly. He raised up off of the soles of his feet, loosening his shoulders and his grip. He faced the bag, not doing anything at first. And then he threw his first punch.

The entire beam that the bag hung from rattled in response.

Kevin took notice, hazel eyes glancing up to make sure nothing came loose. “Well, fuck.” He’d nod in approval before looking over at the man who instructed him. “Like that?”

“You get the gist of it. Now, do it again.”

“Wait, what I miss?”

“Nothing, just do it again. You understand the technique, but now you master it. Repetition, practice…see? I told you fighting and dancing are alike! You gotta practice moves for each and make sure they’re perfect!”

“Shit, I mean…you ain’t got no other advanced shit to show since you know so much?”

The older of the two scoffed. “Advanced? This is the basics! Baby steps! Tell you what---you practice this and I’ll show you something the next time we catch each other here. Deal?”

Kevin huffed, nodded his head and threw another punch, a straight right just like he was told.

“Deal.”

Kevin checked his clock. 2:09AM. For a kid who had class in the morning? Plenty of time.

Posting for 5 EXP.