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Bandit kicked her opponent in the side, sending them to the ground and vibrations up her leg. She stood there, jumping toe to toe watching the boy get up, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand, glaring. Bandit grinned around her mouth piece, and landed another nasty punch to his shoulder, sending him to the ground again.

Miles stood in his mother’s bedroom, wondering where she kept her sleeping pills. He had went through every cabinet in the house, and couldn’t find them. He didn’t want to go through her stuff though, not her belongings to get to them, but he had too. He just had to find those pills.

The opponent was up again, throwing punches. Bandit got hit a few times, but kept going, ignoring her nose bleed. She felt her blood run down her cheeks and over her lips, but decided kicking this guy’s butt was more important, and kneed him in the stomach with a bloody grin.

Mile couldn’t find them in his mother’s dresser, her make up cases, or even her ‘special’ bathroom drawer. He could check his father’s nightstand, but Frank was picky about where his stuff was, and if Miles couldn’t find the pills Frank would know someone went through his bedside table. Decisions must be made.

This wasn’t a cage. This was a warehouse where a group of people circled them entirely, cheering the two fighters on. Oh, if Gerard knew his baby girl was beating people and hurting them real bad, not to the point of them being paralyzed, he’d throw a fit.

Miles stepped up to the wooden table, and run his hand over the top. The finish was slick, and was easily cleaned. He grabbed the golden handle, and pulled it slowly. Some magazines and a hair brush where in there, but the pills weren’t, and he ran out of ideas. Maybe his mother stopped taking them. Maybe this was a waste of time.

Bandit moved her hand up quickly to knock away this man’s hand. Her lip was starting to throb, and he was getting tired. She landed a kick to his shin, and heard the crack of bone as he fell. She grinned at him, stepping away slightly. He called that she won, holding his broken leg with tears in his eyes.

He found them behind his mother’s boots that were on her dresser. these were soft, felt ones he loved to see her wear. She always wore them with such pride that it thrilled him to know his mother was happy.

Bandit was on fire. Her next opponent was up. This girl was shorter than her, had glasses, skinny and looked really fragile. She either was an amazing fighter, or had a deathwish. Mayb a kink for being hurt, but Bandit didn’t care. They shook hands, and took three steps back. Bandit charged first.

Miles took the pills back to his room, making all the dogs get out and shut the door, sad that he had to do this. He thought of his father, and how he would take the pills away and hug him and tell him there’s better ways to get through this. That he just has to talk or let it all out. It’s too late.

The girl blocked her first punch, bringing a flat palm under her chin, sending her flying back. She hit the hard concrete floor on her back with a shot of pain, and the girl kicked her in the side. Bandit grabbed the girls ankle, twisting sending her on the ground.

Miles laid down on his bed under the blankets, clutching the pills in his hand. He warmed himself up under the comfy covers and went to open the pills. He realized if he opened them, he’d never shut them, and that scared him.

Bandit got back up into a standing position the same time the girl did, but the difference is that the girl grabbed her hair, twisting it then slamming her into a concrete pillar. The crowd cheered, bhut Bandit elbowed the girl’s tits until she let out a boyish grunt and let her go, stepping back a few step to rub her chest.

He did it. He opened this damn bottle. He saw the pills inside and counted them. Six? Was that enough? He didn’t know. Maybe he’d just overdose, or maybe he’d just fall into a really deep sleep and scare the fuck outta his parents, and they’ll think he’s a druggie.

Bandit kneed her in the stomach. This bitch gonna play with hair? Let’s play with hair. She grabbed her greasy strands and took her to the ground, slamming her multiple times onto the ground. She called out mercy, and Bandit kicked her away, being declared the winner of that night. Everyone cheered.

Miles took the pills in one big gulp, downing a beer from the fridge. He put the beer on his nightstand, and threw the bottle somewhere in his closet and stumbled to his bed, feeling his stomach twist with pain. He thought this was supposed to be painless? He blacked out, right after seeing black and purple dots, and died at 9 pm while his parents were on a night out, and his sisters were bowling. He didn’t leave a note.

Bandit drove home. She walked in limping just a bit. She started to think of an excuse. Mugging? No she had her purse. Abusive boyfriend? Dad would want to kill him. She didn’t get a chance.

She walked into the dining room and her mom and dad were sitting on one side, Ray and Mikey on the others. They motioned to the side where no one is, and told her. Gerard held her that night, ignoring her face. Ignoring the world, really.

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