underdog [kari]
Feb 4, 2017 16:06:49 GMT -5
Post by solo on Feb 4, 2017 16:06:49 GMT -5
Riven Fowley
Wind rushes past my short, messy black hair. My heart catches in my throat and I feel the air rush out of my lungs. For a moment, I am reminded of Hendrick and the bull. The black horns, the little white spot behind its ear, the desperation to see it up close...the terror when the ground started shaking. I am frozen, afraid, unable to move. The earth quivers beneath my overly large feet and my heart pounds in my chest. And then big, strong hands are wrapping around my waist, pulling me into the air, wind whistling past my ears. At least, they seemed strong to little me. Hendrick was only twelve at the time, but he had no trouble lifting me into the air and whisking me out of the bull pen.
Suddenly, my back slams into the ground beneath me, and I feel as if my lungs have collapsed in my chest. My eyes are wide, staring up at the flickering lights of the training center. This mat looks a lot softer from a distance than it does when you've been slammed into it. A woman's hands are on my shoulders. She's taller than me, stronger, has years of practicing with the sacrifices they bring here for the Capitol's enjoyment. Her eyes are sharp, precise, her body leaning over me.
"You'll have to do better than that." she straightens up, brushing the palms of her hands against her legs, as if she's just finished cleaning up some mess. "Keep your stance wide, body low." she raises a brow at me, but I don't respond. I'm too busy choking on my own air. After a moment, I let out a cough and then gasp, sucking fresh air into my lungs, forcing myself to breath deep and steady. The trainer rolls her eyes. "You got the wind knocked out of you. Take a break, you'll be fine. Next!"
With a grunt, I place my hands on the mat beneath me, and struggle to push myself up. My whole body is sore. I can already feel a nice bruise forming on my lower back. I step out of the way as some other tribute joins the trainer, and I shuffle to the edge of the self-defense station. Mentally, I make a note to come back here as soon as I feel better. Failure is not an option. I'm determined to perfect this skill before I go into the arena.
I take a seat on one of the cube-shaped benches nearby, leaning my elbows on my knees, wincing slightly. I can only hope no one saw the last few minutes of my training. But then I think about it, and who am I kidding? Everyone saw it.
Suddenly, my back slams into the ground beneath me, and I feel as if my lungs have collapsed in my chest. My eyes are wide, staring up at the flickering lights of the training center. This mat looks a lot softer from a distance than it does when you've been slammed into it. A woman's hands are on my shoulders. She's taller than me, stronger, has years of practicing with the sacrifices they bring here for the Capitol's enjoyment. Her eyes are sharp, precise, her body leaning over me.
"You'll have to do better than that." she straightens up, brushing the palms of her hands against her legs, as if she's just finished cleaning up some mess. "Keep your stance wide, body low." she raises a brow at me, but I don't respond. I'm too busy choking on my own air. After a moment, I let out a cough and then gasp, sucking fresh air into my lungs, forcing myself to breath deep and steady. The trainer rolls her eyes. "You got the wind knocked out of you. Take a break, you'll be fine. Next!"
With a grunt, I place my hands on the mat beneath me, and struggle to push myself up. My whole body is sore. I can already feel a nice bruise forming on my lower back. I step out of the way as some other tribute joins the trainer, and I shuffle to the edge of the self-defense station. Mentally, I make a note to come back here as soon as I feel better. Failure is not an option. I'm determined to perfect this skill before I go into the arena.
I take a seat on one of the cube-shaped benches nearby, leaning my elbows on my knees, wincing slightly. I can only hope no one saw the last few minutes of my training. But then I think about it, and who am I kidding? Everyone saw it.
THROUGH ALL MY MAKE BELIEVE
THERE'S SOME REALITY
THERE'S SOME REALITY
{Word Count: 451}
