and it wasn’t on good terms.
Fuck it . If I learned anything in my boxing career it’s to not fear anything or anyone, even rejection.
The smell of sweat and moldy underground basement invades me. It still smells like shit in here, but it instantly fills me with comfort. I’m promptly transformed to the past, when things were good.
I continue to walk down the narrow hall, getting closer to the sound of bags being punched, men hissing and puffing as they land a jab against the leather, the whip of several jump ropes slamming along the floor, the loud ring of a bell, ready for the next round; and I hear him, the man who taught me all I know about boxing, Alfredo.
I enter the gym and everyone is doing their thing, exercising with their trainers, or on their own. I glance around; a smile slightly tugs at my lip. It is exactly as it was years ago. As much money as this fucker made, he never upgraded the space. But I have to hand it to him, it’s a real gym—the real deal. One that has seen many boys grow into men and become their own. A real gym that has seen the struggle and hunger of those who wanted to succeed as a fighter and make it to the top. I’m one of those men.
My eyes trace over the small space and land on the one punching bag that hangs in the far right corner. Shit, is that the same one? My feet carry me closer. I keep my distance as I watch a guy bounce around and give the black bag a few hits. It still has the same duct tape I wrapped around on the bottom, probably a decade ago. I used to give that bag a few good hits. It was my only therapy; that bag took a good beating as I let out all of my frustrations on it, especially on the night my mother died.
“Ahhh!” I screamed from the top of my lungs. My right fist pounded against the bag, followed by my left. I didn’t care to put on the fucking gloves. I needed to get away from that house. Get out and hit something. My mind whirled with the last sight of my mom, lifeless on her bed. She was fine yesterday. She was awake and alive! She told me she felt better than ever! “Ahh!” I shove my bare fist into the bag again. My knuckles feel raw and numb. I needed the pain inside to go away, I wanted it to go the fuck away! The pain in my chest is the worst feeling I’ve ever endured. It sunk in, creating a dark hole and the poisonous venom is slowly seeping to my core. It burned and I needed to feel agony on the outside to hide the pain I felt on the inside.
I could feel the blood on the tore skin of my knuckles, but I kept going, pouncing and punching and clawing at the fucking bag.
“Julian?” I could hear her in the distance. How did she get here? How did she find me? I could feel Natalia getting closer, but I don’t look at her and I continue to treat the bag like it was the reason for ruining my life.
“Julian I just heard . . .” she cried out. “I’m so sorry.” Her tone trembling.
Fuck! I clenched my teeth. I won’t cry. I won’t fucking cry. Men don’t cry. I swung my arms harder, faster. My mouth was dry and throat burned, my head felt heavy and my breathing was heavy, but I couldn’t give up.
Natalia’s hands found its way to my back. “Julian, please stop.” she cried out. “Stop.” She gripped my arms down to my side. I breathed out, my head found its way to the bag. I leaned against it.
“She’s gone,” I mumbled. “She’s gone, Natalia.” Natalia rushed around to face me. She brought her hands up to my face and forced me to look at her.
“It was her time to go, Julian. She won’t suffer anymore.”
Her words settled deep within me, and I couldn’t help it. I tried so fucking hard to keep the tears in, but they just came out and they would not fucking stop. “I didn’t want her to go. Not yet,” I cried out. “Not yet. Not yet.”
Natalia pulled me in and I broke down in her arms, crumbling as the world beneath my feet continued to live. Natalia kneeled down beside me as I slid to the floor, and
Fuck it . If I learned anything in my boxing career it’s to not fear anything or anyone, even rejection.
The smell of sweat and moldy underground basement invades me. It still smells like shit in here, but it instantly fills me with comfort. I’m promptly transformed to the past, when things were good.
I continue to walk down the narrow hall, getting closer to the sound of bags being punched, men hissing and puffing as they land a jab against the leather, the whip of several jump ropes slamming along the floor, the loud ring of a bell, ready for the next round; and I hear him, the man who taught me all I know about boxing, Alfredo.
I enter the gym and everyone is doing their thing, exercising with their trainers, or on their own. I glance around; a smile slightly tugs at my lip. It is exactly as it was years ago. As much money as this fucker made, he never upgraded the space. But I have to hand it to him, it’s a real gym—the real deal. One that has seen many boys grow into men and become their own. A real gym that has seen the struggle and hunger of those who wanted to succeed as a fighter and make it to the top. I’m one of those men.
My eyes trace over the small space and land on the one punching bag that hangs in the far right corner. Shit, is that the same one? My feet carry me closer. I keep my distance as I watch a guy bounce around and give the black bag a few hits. It still has the same duct tape I wrapped around on the bottom, probably a decade ago. I used to give that bag a few good hits. It was my only therapy; that bag took a good beating as I let out all of my frustrations on it, especially on the night my mother died.
“Ahhh!” I screamed from the top of my lungs. My right fist pounded against the bag, followed by my left. I didn’t care to put on the fucking gloves. I needed to get away from that house. Get out and hit something. My mind whirled with the last sight of my mom, lifeless on her bed. She was fine yesterday. She was awake and alive! She told me she felt better than ever! “Ahh!” I shove my bare fist into the bag again. My knuckles feel raw and numb. I needed the pain inside to go away, I wanted it to go the fuck away! The pain in my chest is the worst feeling I’ve ever endured. It sunk in, creating a dark hole and the poisonous venom is slowly seeping to my core. It burned and I needed to feel agony on the outside to hide the pain I felt on the inside.
I could feel the blood on the tore skin of my knuckles, but I kept going, pouncing and punching and clawing at the fucking bag.
“Julian?” I could hear her in the distance. How did she get here? How did she find me? I could feel Natalia getting closer, but I don’t look at her and I continue to treat the bag like it was the reason for ruining my life.
“Julian I just heard . . .” she cried out. “I’m so sorry.” Her tone trembling.
Fuck! I clenched my teeth. I won’t cry. I won’t fucking cry. Men don’t cry. I swung my arms harder, faster. My mouth was dry and throat burned, my head felt heavy and my breathing was heavy, but I couldn’t give up.
Natalia’s hands found its way to my back. “Julian, please stop.” she cried out. “Stop.” She gripped my arms down to my side. I breathed out, my head found its way to the bag. I leaned against it.
“She’s gone,” I mumbled. “She’s gone, Natalia.” Natalia rushed around to face me. She brought her hands up to my face and forced me to look at her.
“It was her time to go, Julian. She won’t suffer anymore.”
Her words settled deep within me, and I couldn’t help it. I tried so fucking hard to keep the tears in, but they just came out and they would not fucking stop. “I didn’t want her to go. Not yet,” I cried out. “Not yet. Not yet.”
Natalia pulled me in and I broke down in her arms, crumbling as the world beneath my feet continued to live. Natalia kneeled down beside me as I slid to the floor, and
Similar Books
