"We have plans tonight". That statement was the kiss of death that my best friend Belle delivered to me this afternoon. Maybe if I had looked up from the case I was summarizing for my boss I would have noticed the worry on her face. Maybe if I wasn't having a mild panic attack from the details and pictures of the domestic violence case in front of me, I would have seen worry. Who was I kidding?! Belle may be my best friend, but she gave no fucks when she thought she was doing me a favor. Which is exactly what she thought she was doing when she dragged me to an MMA fight.
"Scarlette, it's not that bad. You used to love these fights. Hell, you used to want to go to these events all the time!" Belle yells at me over the crowd going ape shit when one man starts gushing blood from who knows where. The smell of copper is overwhelming my senses. Thankfully my gag reflex is in check. Yuck!
I look back to Belle. Her eyes and face tell me everything going on in her mind. She really wants me to try to have a good time and embrace the experience. We have been best friends since high school. The students and staff at our high school labeled us the "ass kickers". Why? Because we were constantly fighting. No, not because we liked hurting people and got off on it, but because we hated people getting bullied. So, we would step in and make sure these bullies understood where their place was, under our feet. I am sure you can understand Belle's words of encouragement now. She is right, before him I loved watching the fights. I have so much respect for the women and men who get into that octagon and use their brains and brawn to entertain the fans. The conditioning, dedication, and heart these fighters show is nothing short of amazing.
But now, violence scares me. It reminds me of a time when I couldn't escape the violence. When I realized that there were stronger people out there than myself. He showed me that violence can control. It can make the strongest person you know into the weakest person you couldn't begin to imagine.
"Scarlette, it's not that bad. You used to love these fights. Hell, you used to want to go to these events all the time!" Belle yells at me over the crowd going ape shit when one man starts gushing blood from who knows where. The smell of copper is overwhelming my senses. Thankfully my gag reflex is in check. Yuck!
I look back to Belle. Her eyes and face tell me everything going on in her mind. She really wants me to try to have a good time and embrace the experience. We have been best friends since high school. The students and staff at our high school labeled us the "ass kickers". Why? Because we were constantly fighting. No, not because we liked hurting people and got off on it, but because we hated people getting bullied. So, we would step in and make sure these bullies understood where their place was, under our feet. I am sure you can understand Belle's words of encouragement now. She is right, before him I loved watching the fights. I have so much respect for the women and men who get into that octagon and use their brains and brawn to entertain the fans. The conditioning, dedication, and heart these fighters show is nothing short of amazing.
But now, violence scares me. It reminds me of a time when I couldn't escape the violence. When I realized that there were stronger people out there than myself. He showed me that violence can control. It can make the strongest person you know into the weakest person you couldn't begin to imagine.
Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.