I should have posted this one 1st
Cass Warrior Princess
My name is Cassandra, but everyone calls me Cass. My father, on the other hand, has always had a special nickname for me. He called me "Warrior Princess" ever since I was a little girl. You see, my father was in the special forces for most of his adult life, and he always told me stories about his time in the military. He would talk about the training, the discipline, and the camaraderie that came with being part of such an elite group of individuals. And while he loved his job and the life that came with it, he always made it clear that it wasn't for everyone. It took a special kind of person to withstand the physical and emotional demands of the job. And from the way he saw it, I was that kind of person.
My father has always been my biggest supporter, even when I told him I wanted to become a mixed martial arts fighter. He knew the sport inside and out, having trained many fighters throughout his career. And while he worried about the risks involved, he also understood that it was something I was passionate about. So, instead of trying to talk me out of it, he decided to train me himself.
From the moment we started training together, I could see the pride in his eyes. He taught me everything he knew - from striking to submission wrestling. We spent countless hours in the gym, sweating and bleeding together. And as I progressed, he would watch my fights with a mix of nervousness and excitement. He would critique my technique, offer advice, and then cheer louder than anyone else when I emerged victorious.
During one of our training sessions, I asked him why he thought I had such a natural talent for the sport. His response surprised me. He didn't mention my athleticism or my natural instincts. Instead, he said it was because of the discipline and determination he saw in me. He said that those were the same qualities he saw in the soldiers he fought alongside, and that they were what made us all successful in our own ways.
The more we trained, the more I realized that my father wasn't just teaching me how to fight. He was teaching me valuable life lessons as well. He taught me the importance of respect, both for myself and for my opponents. He taught me the value of hard work and dedication. And perhaps most importantly, he taught me how to persevere through adversity.
As I grew older and more experienced in the sport, my father's nickname for me - "Warrior Princess" - took on a whole new meaning. It wasn't just about being strong and fearless in the ring; it was about embodying the spirit of the special forces soldier that my father once was. It was about carrying myself with the same discipline and honor that he had instilled in me from a young age.
My father continued to train me, pushing me harder than anyone else ever had. He would watch my fights with a critical eye, always looking for ways to improve my technique. But he also saw the bigger picture. He knew that MMA wasn't just about winning and losing; it was about becoming the best version of oneself. And in his eyes, I was well on my way to achieving that.
As the years went by, I began to win more and more fights. My name spread throughout the MMA community, and people started to recognize me not just as a skilled fighter, but as someone who embodied the spirit of the sport. But for me, none of that really mattered. All that mattered was the pride I felt every time I stepped into the ring, knowing that my father was there, watching and cheering me on.
We've been training for months, and I know I'm as ready as I can be. I want this win just as much as she does, but more importantly, I want to make you proud. Dad, you've been there for me through everything - the highs and the lows. You've always believed in me, even when I doubted myself. And because of that, I know I can do anything I set my mind to.
Had to tell you that before my big fight coming up against Melissa.
Your stories about the special forces always inspired me, Dad. You're the strongest person I know, both physically and emotionally. I'm not just saying that because you're my father. You've been there for me through everything, just like you were for Mom. You've always been my rock.
I know you're proud of me, and I hope that I make you proud every time I step into the ring. This fight against Melissa is no different. I've been training harder than ever, and I can feel your training in every move I make. You've taught me so much about not only fighting, but about life.
I want to win this fight for both of us. For you, because you've sacrificed so much for me and my dreams. And for myself, because I know that I can be the best fighter in the world with your guidance. I want to make you proud, Dad. I want to make you proud in the same way that you've made me proud by being the strong, resilient man that you are.
The day of the fight arrives, and I can feel your presence with me. Even though you're not physically in the arena, I know you're there. I can hear your voice in my head, giving me advice and encouragement. I take a deep breath and step into the ring. The crowd roars, but all I can focus on is Melissa across from me. She's a formidable opponent, but I've trained for this. I've trained for her.
The bell rings, and we circle each other warily. She lunges forward, throwing a punch that I easily dodge. I counter with a sharp jab to her side, feeling the satisfaction of connecting. The fight is fast-paced and intense, just like you've trained me for. We trade blows, each one more powerful than the last. Melissa is a tough fighter, but I know I can take her. I channel your strength and determination, pushing myself to my limits.
Round after round, we battle it out. I land several solid kicks and punches, but Melissa is relentless. She's determined to win, just like I am. The crowd is on their feet, cheering us on, but all I can hear is your voice in my head. "You've got this, warrior princess. Just keep fighting."
With every ounce of strength and skill I have, I push myself further. I block her attacks and land a few more of my own. The sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes, but I don't let it deter me. I know this is where my training will make all the difference. I know what you taught me.
The final round begins, and we both sense the urgency. This fight could go either way, and we both know it. Melissa comes at me with renewed fury, but I'm ready for her. I parry her blows and manage to land a few solid kicks to her legs. I can see the fatigue setting in, and I know it's only a matter of time.
With one last surge of energy, I launch myself at her, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks. She tries to defend herself, but my attacks are too much. The crowd roars their approval as I land a final blow, sending her crashing to the mat. The referee steps in, and I hear the familiar words: "And the winner is... your daughter!"
I stand up slowly, my heart still racing, but a sense of accomplishment washing over me. I look over at you, Dad, and I can see the pride in your eyes, even from all the way up here in the stands. I can feel your arms around me, your strong embrace. You're proud of me, and I know that I couldn't have done it without you.
