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I sit on the bench and let him wrap my hands. My heart is beating crazily in my chest, and I keep getting moments of dizziness. Thank god I’m already dressed because all I can do right now is go into that cage and beat the shit out of that girl. I hope adrenaline will carry me through this fight.
“What’s wrong?” Dickie asks worriedly. “Where were you?”
“No time for chit-chat. Just get me in that cage,” I say as I stand up. I see black for a second and throw a hand out to catch myself.
“Whoa,” Taylor catches me instead. “Are you sure you’re fit to fight?”
“Will you represent me if I forfeit?” I ask seriously, feeling my strength is quasi-zero.
His eyes dart to Dickie and back to me. “I can’t. The contract states—"
“I know what the contract states,” I snap. “I’m not forfeiting.”
Dickie puts the gloves on my hands and I’m in the cage before I can even blink. This fight won’t wait for me, and I know what I’m capable of. I’m Billie Unbeatable Scott. And this bitch doesn’t stand a chance.
The crowd is bigger than I anticipated. Dickie is in my corner and gives me a pep talk just before the ref calls for us.
He offers us to tap gloves, but I don’t, ignoring the girl’s gloves in front of me. I never do. I am not a kind woman in the ring. I am here for one thing and one thing only: the win.
The girl doesn’t even appear like the sort of bitch I normally fight. She’s even smiling at me. She looks humble, kind, yet still a fighter. She’s bare of any tattoos or any other gang-affiliated marks. Her shorts and bra look expensive, and I understand she’s not from the same place I am.
She’s fighting as a hobby. I’m fighting for my life.
The bell rings, and her smile drops to make space for focus. A chill crosses my entire body as dizziness engulfs me before I make a move. I swallow thickly and force myself to jump on my feet as she comes for me.
I manage to avoid her first hits out of pure luck. Despite feeling unwell, I’m quick on my feet and it’s not uncommon in our low-weight class to move rapidly. But fuck, I can’t find the strength to throw anything.
I hear Dickie shouting at me to wake the fuck up, but my muscles refuse to obey me. I can barely keep my guard up, let alone hit her. Sweat is dripping down my forehead despite putting the minimum effort into this fight.
I make it through the first round only taking a few hits and punching her once or twice. As soon as I’m in my corner, Dickie gives me water and a towel before putting gel on my eyebrow to stop the bleeding.
“Billie,” he says desperately. “What is wrong? If you can’t fight, I can’t put you at risk by leaving you in this cage.”
“I’m fine,” I mumble as I pull the bottle away from my lips. But I’m not finished with my sentence that I’m hunching over to the side and vomiting. It’s off the ring, and the ref is too busy with something else to notice, but Dickie is on me right away.
“What’s going on?” he insists. “You need to talk to me.”
Everything is happening too fast, and there’s only one thing on my mind.
“Is Taylor watching?” Panic takes hold of me as I force more water down my throat. My body is exhausted, and any strength I have is leaving me quicker than I anticipated.
“Y-yeah, of course,” Dickie hesitates. “Billie, kiddo, I know you want to win, but you’re extremely unwell right now. I’m calling it—”
“No!” I shout before I can stop myself. “You arenotdoing this to me, Dickie.”
The bell rings to get back in the middle of the cage and I force myself to straighten up. It feels like I sat down for ten seconds.
I manage a couple of punches, but the other girl stops them easily. There’s no strength behind my hits and she doesn’t need to put much effort into fighting back.
I see black again. For a few seconds, the world disappears, and I feel myself lose my footing.
It’s a real shock when her punch gets me right in the nose. I grunt as I stumble backward, and my vision finally returns. My arms are down, and I realize I’m not guarding myself anymore. I’m too slow to put my fists back up.
Her next punch gets me in the temple. I try to open my eyes and move, but I get a high kick in the head and fall back to the floor.
I don’t feel physical pain as she rains punches on me. No, only the horror of my dreams shattering into pieces.
Only the understanding that I will never leave this shit town. That everything I held onto, my reason to live and keep going, is burning to ashes.
