d2 . laura murphy

She's not tall, stuck standing at the edge of the court as her other classmates are picked. One by one they disappear from around her, their names echoing within the gymnasium, her name still stuck at the back of minds. She watches, as their eyes roam the remaining students, her foot on the floor tapping one, two, three times as impatience settles into her stance. Folded arms rest across her chest, scowl forming over glossy lips as she eyes the 'captains'.

She knows why their eyes refuse to linger on her, and she hates them for it. Anger bubbles in her belly and by the time there are two of them remaining she's had enough. "Fuck you," she says, glaring at Nathan Pryce, he has the decency to look a little ashamed, turning his gaze to his shoes. Laura turns her burning gaze over to Rose West, flipping the girl the bird, "and fuck you too."

She storms out of the gymnasium, slamming the large metal doors shut behind her. They had no idea how good she was, mistaking her small appearance for weakness and ignoring the fact that she was built from sweat and stone. She was a Murphy for fuck sake. Parents defined as some of the most prestigious and recognisable career trainers in the entire fucking district. A piece cut from the same cloth, and even though she, unlike her brother's, had not been gifted with height, she was just as good.

No- she was better.

People are born to be the best. Laura Murphy is one of those people.

The gym attached to the back of their house rings with the sound of her fist pummelling against the punching bag. Her leg slaps the rough material, followed by four jabs punches and a hook. She grunts, teeth gritted in frustration as she unleashes her anger on the material. The familiarity and comfort that comes with the sting of flesh striking bag eases the knots in her stomach. After a few more minutes she takes a step backward, panting slightly as she wipes the hair from her face, smearing her sweat over her forehead.

"What'd the punching bag do to deserve that punishment?" The voice is teasing, and it only takes a few moments for the scowl on Laura's face to soften into a smile. She turns, running over to her dad and throwing her arms around his stomach. Too short to reach his shoulders. He rubs her head, before untangling himself and rolling up his sleeves as he makes his way into the room.

"School," she says simply, looking away from her father's gaze. He had a way of catching her off guard, pulling out words that she wasn't intending to speak. If she stared too long into his eyes she'd let it all spill, unable to disappoint him by holding back. After a moment she finally looks up, his face unconvinced as he nods, speaking slowly, "right."

Laura shrugs, rubbing the back of her head with a stinging hand as she moves back to the punching bag. Her dad stops her, grabbing her arm and directing her over to the ring. He slips on his pads, moving into a boxing stance. She hesitates, knowing where this was going to go, but once he raises his eyebrows in a mocking question of her cowardice, she grins and joins him in the ring. Taking up her stance she lets out a loud huff, words already dancing at the tip of her tongue as she throws the first punch. It hits the pad squarely, and she moves quickly, following up with another, the flow of the fight moving with the slight adjustments that her dad makes with the pads. Each movement indicating a new attack or attack pattern, hook, jab, uppercut. The motions continuing until her breathing is ragged and sweat is slipping down her neck.

"You ready to tell me about it?" He asks. She hates that he hasn't even broken a sweat. She hates that he speaks without so much as a hint that anything they just did was difficult. She hopes one day she can be as strong as him.

Laura sighs, rolling her eyes as her father smiles in victory, knowing that he was going to get exactly what he wants. "They keep making assumptions about me- about what I'm capable of just because I'm short. I don't know how to make them look past my height." She grumbles, gaze shifting back to the punching bag in an attempt to avoid her father's eyes. She didn't want to fully deal with this problem, it just made her angrier every time she thought about it. She could feel it building in her belly like a winter storm brewing on the horizon- creeping across the sky until it unleashed its force on everyone around it.

She wants to be recognised for the strength she has, not ignored for something she could not fix.

"Hmmmm, that's not that difficult to overcome, Laura," he says thoughtfully. Her eyes snap up, disbelief is written across her face like flames in a forest fire- hot and angry. "Not difficult?" she echoed. Ludicrous. Easy for the 6'5'' giant in front of her to say that.

"Please, do share with the class, dad. How is that going to be easy?" She couldn't stop the sarcasm from leaking into each word. Biting into her own flesh as she glares as him, bristling with annoyance as she prowls closer. Her father remains unfazed, devilish smile on his lips as he looks her up and down.

"You're my daughter, so all you have to do is become the best. Make it unquestionable that you are capable of beating every single person in your year." He moves back to the mats, raising the pads. "It's as simple as that. Take away any choice or any belief that they can see you as anything other than a threat."

She takes up her stance with a grin that matches her fathers. "You're right, that is easy."