Repressed Anger

“Right, does my little girl think she can beat the old man?”

I ignore the hand Dad outstretches to help me up. “I am NOT a little girl,” I grumble. And to answer his question, no I don’t think I can beat him. He’s got an unfair advantage; age and experience. “That was an unfair match Dad.” I hiss as I move to the ring.

“Yes it was because you helped him.”

“He needed it the amount you were winding him up!” Of course Dad’s winding me up as well. I try to keep calm. I don’t want to lose control.

“How else will he learn to control it? Besides I fought at his level.”

Okay is he reading my thoughts? I look at him and shake my head. Taking a deep breath I get ready for what’s likely to be the shortest sparring session in history. Dad comes at me, albeit slowly, but I’m still scared. He nudges me and I almost topple.

 “Look you’ll never get anywhere with a stance like that. Try again.”

Right. I take up one of the stances he’d taught me earlier in the week.

“Now Morgan, come on, hit me!”

Right, hit my father. It goes against everything in my up brining. Respect your elders. Don’t talk back. I try, half heartedly.

“Your fight is worse than your lover boy now common hit me!”

My eyes narrow. “He is not my lover boy!” Hell, we haven’t even kissed properly yet. I throw a punch for Ash.

“Liana hit me harder than that last night!”

Oh god, he did not just go there. That’s just, wrong. I don’t even want to think about it. George liked things that way. If Dad’s like George, then I don’t want to know. “You’re disgusting!”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me that George…”

I don’t hear past George. He’s got to be reading me. And that is utterly and completely not fair. I land a punch square in his chest. Dad seemed a bit surprised by it. He has no idea what George put us through.

“Oh so he did have company then?”

Company? Oh George had company. He locked me out on the balcony when he had company, no matter the weather. Fine if Dad wants to play that way, he can take all my pent up anger at George. I stop thinking and start striking.

I stumble back. He hit me! At least George never hit me. I start watching Dad. Damn he’s fast. I concentrate on keeping up. At last I hear Gloria ringing the bell furiously and we stop.

“Well getting you to fight me was a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

I roll my eyes and stalk to the mat where Gloria and Ash are. Apparently it must have been something to watch, judging by their expressions. Then it hits. Suddenly I’m bawling for no reason. My knees buckle and I spin down onto the mat, curling into myself.

The End

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