MAXINE

Some call us barbaric. Sadist. Fighters. Warriors. We are particularly insane to fight until one of us is defeated and we get crowned as winners or get the title; champion.

We are badass warriors, strong and legendary. Quick on our feet, use our body to our full advantage, and train ourselves to be quiet during a storm.

Broken bones, blood not only dripping from our mouths but from cuts all over. So, maybe we have a bit of barbaric adrenaline pumping through our system. And maybe our voices get heard after so many times we got turned down and ignored. A proven fact that we can do anything when we put our minds to it.

The cage is our podium. The crowd is our willing guests listening to our warcry through our fists.

My eyes flickered through the crowd, watching them cheering my name after I knocked out my opponent in the third round. The drumming of their feet and applause of their hands are the gateway to my heart. A sense of my passion being overwhelmed by so many.

Maybe I wasn’t yet a champion or the fan-favorite but just a little encouragement and my world felt right. The broken cracks in my walls filled up and the bad voices got silenced.

I am Maxine Cane, the daughter of the two best fighters this world has ever seen. Given the keys to my own destiny and a path paved back to who I am and where I came from, leading back home to a mother and a father who loves me dearly, supports my wishes even if they weren’t the best ones I’ve made.

But when I’m standing in the cage, my arm being raised into the air by the officials, announcing me as the winner. My heartbreak fades away including with the voices. To the world, I seemed happy but deep down I was drowning in my own sorrows and the only thing keeping me alive was the use of my fists.