The Fight by Haneefa Muhammad (rosie project .txt) 📕

meat, like I’m nothing but a tool, and in reality that’s all I am.
“Raven meet Tracey she will be your personal doctor.” Doc says, Tracey looks at me like she expects me to do something, and that’s when I remember I should say some pleasantries back.
“Uhh hi nice to meet you.” I say kind of nervous I offer her my hand but she just lets it hang there, after a few awkward minutes I lower my hand to my sides. That’s when she replaces the smug look she just had on with a smile.
“Well Raven let’s not waste any time, hop on this treadmill and we’ll get started.” She says, I hop on the treadmill and she hooks me up with some stuff to check my heart rate and blood pressure.
She started me out on a level 3 speed, letting me get warmed up. After two minutes she raised the level to 6 a jogging pace for me, after about 15 minutes my thighs started to burn. I wonder if they will let me get a break, I thought. My breathing becoming more labored as the time goes by and the fire extending threw out my legs. It’s been twenty minutes now that I’ve been jogging and they decide to switch the speed level to twelve the highest on the treadmill. Sweat starts to drench my shirt as my body adjusts to the new speed level; my legs are going as fast as they can take me. Yeah I know I’m out of shape to be a stripe, but in my defense I’ve been cooped up in a small room for weeks with no exercise, with a girl who loves to talk me to death!
My lungs, arms and legs are on fire my vision is getting blurry and I feel an ever growing need to vomit, right when I’m about give up they slow down the pace to a jogging speed. I let out a breath and let my body adjust to the slower pace.
“Well you are a bit out of shape when it comes to conditioning, but no worries I’m sure over these two weeks we can get you on track.” Tracey says I don’t have to look at her to know she's smiling. After I got my legs under me they took my height and weight, I’m 5 foot 5 and I weigh 110. They say I should be able to lift 180 to 200 pounds! Months ago when I was close to getting captured my parents started training me just in case something like this will happen so I wouldn’t have to use my powers to defend myself, but lately I haven’t been training. Plus last time I was lifting weights I only got up to 120 pounds nevertheless 180! Anyways they led me to a matted area of the small white room that not surprisingly had no windows only mirrors. There are various sizes of weights scattered neatly on the mat.
“Now we are going to start with what we call power cleaning,” Tracey says leading me to a metal chair with a bar on it. “This weighs 45 pounds you should be able to pick this up with one hand.” And indeed I am able to do that with no problem. They start me out with 35s on each side; I do ten reps of those with just a little trouble. That’s when they add on two twenties on top of the 35s, so now I’m lifting 155 pounds and I do 10 reps of those as well, but this time I am struggling a bit more. Next they add on two 10s and a 5, I grip the handle of the bar and let out a shaky breath before I step away from the chair letting me take on the full weight. I bend my knees bring the bar to my chest then as I straighten out my legs I raise the bar over my head and let out yet another shaky breath. Ok one down nine more two go, as I do the second one I can feel my body weakening under the amount of pressure it is in to perform the tasks it has been put under to do. Ok now 3 more to go, maybe I should just quit I think. But I don’t want them to have the satisfaction of seeing me quit, knowing that they can break me. But I know they will go for as long as I can go until I break so I finish all ten reps, the bar hits the chair with a loud thud as I drop it on the chair instead of just gently putting it down. I have no energy what so ever, my legs finally give out on me and I slump to the floor. Sitting with my arms around my knees I catch my breath, I don’t make eye contact with either Doc nor Tracey I know they’re smiling at me.
Over the next few hours they take me through different gruesome tests, at one point they put me in a small room with nothing but a door in it and a window so that I could see them from the outside. The temperature went from a comfortable room temperature gradually to and heart stopping cold atmosphere. My fingers had gone numb and I was nearly frozen in place, my sweat and tears turned to ice. Then the temperature went back to room temperature letting the blood in my body circulate throughout freely. Then it started getting excoriatingly hot, I don’t know which one was worse. After a few more tests after that I was blindfolded and taken back to my room. I can honestly tell you that was the only time that I’ve been so happy since I’ve been here. When the guard left the room I collapsed on my bed, I really wanted to cry but I didn’t want to do it in front of Liz. She comforted me and talked to me making sure I was fine.
Over the next two weeks they would take me out of the cell for six days so I could do training and I got one day break, every day I came back from training Liz was there waiting for me, ready to comfort and to ease my pain, I have to say it is a true blessing to have her around. She was very helpful in trying to make sure I was ready like whenever it is time for us to eat she always gives me some of her food so I can have more energy, and when I can’t go to sleep she will stay up with me to I fall into unconsciousness.
The last week before the fight we decided that when this fight was over we were going to try to escape. Yeah we know that we are putting our lives in danger and it has never been done before successfully for all that we know, but hey, it’s worth the try! We decided that when I go to fight Liz would be there to watch, and even if I live or die she would take Liyah to make sure she would be safe.

On the last day before the fight which is my day to take a break, they take me out to see my sister. As I enter the tiny room identical from mine but smaller and with only one mattress, there my sister lay on the small bed. Her black hair wild and unruly from not being properly combed in months, she doesn’t even acknowledge me when I come into the room she just keeps her eyes focused on something on the gray floor. It’s when the guard closes the door is when she jumps into my arms and starts to cry.
“Sissy I heard your fights tomorrow! Are you scared?” She asks her voice quivering from emotion, despite how sore I am from previous days training, while still holding her, I stand tall and smile down at her.
“What do you think?” I ask ruffling her hair, to be honest I am nervous out of my mind! This is a fight till the death against the best of fighters! Not to mention who is a man, I’m just a girl, what am I gonna do! I have to admit I am feeling pretty confident and I know if he wins this guy is gonna have to earn it! But as I always do I put on the brave and confident façade for my little sister so she won’t have to worry, after all her future depends on me winning.
“I think you’re gonna kick some butt!” She says and giggles, god how much I love her! Even with the tears running from her eyes she can still smile. I turn serious knowing that I will not have much time to speak to her before I am led back to my room so I put her down and crouch down to eye level with her.
“Now I wanna tell you this, you know I love you right?” She nods her head, “Ok good I just wanna make sure you know that, and know something else. No matter what, you will be leaving here tomorrow.” I say and before any of us can respond the guard is back to send me to my cell. I give her a kiss on the head and a wink accompanied with a reassuring smile before I step out of the room.
As I lay on my bed at night with my hands behind my back I think about how much I’ve grown since I’ve come here I started out a scared, weak, clueless, little 15 year old girl, to becoming a strong, confident, and smart killing machine. I used to doubt my abilities