Your elbow smashes my kneecap and I gasp. I don’t yell. The pain is so sudden and so unexpectedly different from the wrenching I was enduring that my eyes widen and I simply gasp.
Then you do it again…and again…
My mouth open in a big, silent O. The searing heat coming from my knee so intense it sucks the sound from my throat before it leaves my lips. Eyes clenched shut in agony.
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My mom, sitting in her locker room with an ice bag on her knee, leaning her head back with her eyes closed. Watching her from the other side of the room, her teenage daughter asks her the question she has been wondering for a while now.
“Mom, why didn’t you just tap out? Why did you let her hurt your knee so badly? Was tonight’s match so important that you had to risk the next month in order to endure that pain?”
Her eyes open and she looks straight into mine, smiling. “Listen to me, Vivianne, and listen good. Labelles. Do. Not. Give. Up. We are not quitters, got it?” She then adjusts the ice bag, leans her head back, and closes her eyes again.
Here endeth the lesson…
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“Do it Labelle! GIVE UP!” Oh no…not to you…not to anyone!
I clench my hands into fists and lean forward…my left hand swinging and SLAMMING a punch to the back of your right thigh. You remember my punches, don’t you? The ones that would make Gemma Rox’s eyes water?
My right fist then SMASHES into your right ass cheek. I am grunting with each swing now. My knee is swelling and I need to force you to let go before you damage my knee any further.
"Heeyaah!!" Fist to your thigh again!
"Hurgghhh!!!" Sitting up as far as I can…putting everything I have into this next blow…reaching as far as I can reach with it…
…and
HAMMERING your lower back, just above your firm ass.
“Fuck you, Chance!!!”