Look, I’m sorry. I never meant for it all to end like this but it is done, It is all over. I still regret how it all ended but at least I never have to look back; remorse and pity won’t ease my pain, or bring him back. This is it. A clean slate. Never again will I be the victim of that woman's cruelty.
Straight black hair cascaded down my broad shoulders as I approached the large, red punch bag which lay before me. I stole a deep breath as it hung before me. I clenched my fists, preparing to pounce on my prey.
The sound of my steel fists hitting the rock hard punch bag ricocheted through the entire compound as I instinctively prepared for a second attack. Pain coursed through my hand as I hit once again. Red and bleeding, I kept on going; throwing punch after punch at the harsh piece of equipment. Finally, in a moment of clarity and satisfaction, I launched myself into the air and swung my left leg round with unimaginable force but the bag barely moved. As I fell back down to the floor I landed on my left leg before losing balance and falling onto my back.
I sat up in defeat. A single tear which had been from all of the pain and sadness rolled down my face as I slowly got to my feet. I dragged myself over to the pristine white wall before I fell to the floor in a state of blood, despair and exhaustion; my legs collapsing underneath the sheer weight of my body. My tight blue t-shirt creased as I began to solemnly cry. Images of loss, pain, sadness and grief seemed to overwhelm my senses. I curled up into a ball to try to hide from both the world and from myself.
Tears began streaming down my face as the images of destruction and flames flooded through my mind once again.
Corpses lay high at the side of the road as the street began to drown under the lake of blood red liquid. Screams of distress and pain filled my ears as I clung onto his body, lying dead and limp in my shaking arms. My head was pounding, my heart was burning in pure distress.
My eyes flashed open as I sat back in the training room grasping onto my only fragment of hope. Revenge. “I’m… I’m okay,” I told myself, my voice cracking under the strain of pretending. I couldn't stay here. The ghost of those who I killed still seemed to loom over me, feeling as if they continue to stare at me with accusation in their eyes. This was their home not mine and I felt wrong just being within the walls of their complex.
But then there was just silence.