To Be A Leader

Chapter 37: Eye Of The Storm

My fist slams into the punching bag for the umpteenth time, the blunt sound of wet skin hitting hard leather echoing through the empty gym. I swing again, and again, ignoring the pain of my busted and bleeding knuckles. Sweat stings the wounds as they heal and then become damaged once more. It's vicious cycle, but I don't stop.

I'm breathing heavily, sweat pouring from  my body. Fatigue gnaws at my arms, my legs, and my throat burns from lack of water. How long have I been doing this? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? An hour? Doesn't matter. I have to keep going.

I've been doing this for the last four days, going all out, running myself to exhaustion. It's the only thing I can do to keep strong, physically anyway. I guess it helps my mind too, since it's my brain that's screaming to stop, even though I know I can go on for longer, and that I can go harder. I hit the punching back hard with a left hook, my busted hand leaving blood on the bag that I'll have to clean up later.

This struggle to keep going, it reminds me of when I had to fight and pummel Moonchild into letting me take back control of my body. She gave up power pretty easily, but I rebuked her and pushed her until she faded back into my subconscious. The faces of everyone around me is something I'll never forget. I've never seen Milo look so afraid, or Veronica so shocked. Sam's voice held so much fear when he asked what just happened.

I couldn't give him an answer. That'd never happened before.

I slept in the dorms that night. I said it was for his safety as well as my own. I honestly didn't think Moonchild would do... that again, but that lie was better than me saying I couldn't bear to see how he looked at me when we got back.

Another hit. Another blow. My heart hammers in my chest as my breaths come out in quick pants. The salt of my sweat stings my eyes, but I ignore the pain of it and my burning muscles and just keeping hitting the leather bag, shifting my stance every so often.

I have to keep moving.

What she did to me, why she's in my head, why we're different from the other Moonchild Syndrome sufferers... I taste bile on my tongue and I have to resist the urge to gag. I let her do that. I just sat there and let her make herself a part of me, make me permanently susceptible to her control, her will. Maxine and Sam and Jody and everyone else who knows told me it wasn't me, that I was under mind control and therefore couldn't give actual consent, but I didn't do anything to stop it.

I resisted the mind control when destroying Abel. She won out, in the end, and Simon had to inject me with that stuff to stop me from killing Sam, but I still tried to stop what I was doing. I gave no resistance with this. I did nothing.

I'm such an idiot!

I pull my arm back, ready to hit the punching bag as hard as I can. I can't afford to break another one, so at the last second I turn and slam my fist into the concrete wall.

There's a loud crack that rings in my ears, and I'm unsure if the sound was from me breaking the concrete or my hand. I pull back, a small bit of blood staining the wall that now has a small crack. I cradle my hand, hissing as tears leak from my eyes when I try to move my fingers. A sharp burn follows as bones shift and begin to meld back together. It's excruciating and makes more tears threaten to slip past my lashes.

I pant, leaning against the wall and sliding down until I'm sitting on the ground. With a broken bone it'll take longer to heal, so I wait, gritting my teeth at the burn deep under my skin.

I want to cry, not from the pain, but from what's happened. She used me, took advantage of me. She put this version of herself in my mind, made me forget it even happened. I squeeze my eyes shut to prevent the tears from flowing. Once I start, I won't be able to stop, and crying won't help me anyway. It'll only make me feel worse.