“Eris! I’m going to be patched as Veep in a week! You’re coming aren’t you,” my brother, Ares—or War—asks.
“Yes, I’m going to be there. You told me a three weeks ago. And I have some news once I’m there, as well. It’s good news though, don’t worry. I’m excited to see everyone.” I left home eight, long years ago due to the fact that I couldn’t handle being there after what had happened. I couldn’t stay there where everything happened and no one could help me. I was surrounded by people that loved me, yet I felt so alone.
“I know, I know, I’m just so excited! I can’t wait for you to come here! No one knows you’re coming yet, we want it to be a surprise.” Ares sounds so excited and it makes me happy to know that things are going good back home. Even after eight years of boxing and fighting in the cages, I don’t think I’d be able to face the faces of my accusers: The Titans. The scum of the earth. I had accepted and moved on from what happened but if I ever saw one of the men that sexually assaulted me, they wouldn’t make it out alive. It’s been eight years but I still get undying fury in my body when I think of what they did to me.
“Sounds good, I’ll start driving Thursday and I should arrive Friday afternoon. The gathering is Saturday afternoon and then the party is later that night right?” I ask just in case they changed the way of doing things.
“Yep! Do you need a place to stay for awhile?” I tell him that I don’t but leave my answers vague. The surprise I have for them is that I’m actually moving back to my home town in Las Vegas. I rented a furnished apartment a couple of miles away from the clubhouse and I already sent most of my clothes and bike there. Cerberus, my Rottweiler, is coming with me in my 1967 Chevrolet Impala. I call her Honey because she rides just as smooth. I bought her with all the money I make off being a fighter.
Once I hang up the phone, I look at the time and decide it’s time to head to bed.
Once I roll out of the bed Thursday morning, I hop in the shower and wash my ridiculously long, blonde curls. I get out and study myself in the mirror. I have scars littering my body; mostly from that horrid month I was kidnapped but there are some that are from my career as a boxer. I look at a cluster of scars that form a bundle on my side and it brings me back to one of the worst moments of my time there.
“Every time you scream, every time you bite, every time you fight back while I’m enjoying myself, you’ll get another pretty little mark on the pretty little body of yours. Got that, princess?”
I nodded in response but once he began I did everything in my being to stop is assaults, but he was bigger than me. Stronger than me. Heavier than me.
I remember promising myself that when I got out, I would follow my dreams and also make sure that no one would ever be able to win against me again, and so far, I have kept my promise.
I look up at face and brush through my hair before slipping on a matching set of lace bra and panties and then putting on black, ripped jeans with combat boots with a little extra heel (even though I don’t need it standing at six feet tall), and a black tank top.
I look at myself again before sighing, happily. I feel good about myself finally. After Hell’s Angels found me, I could barely look at myself. I felt disgusted and used and I couldn’t stand to see myself like that. But when I left, I got professional help, I started working my ass off, and it definitely paid off. My skin is radiant, my butt is firm and big, my boobs fit my size just right and I have a whole set of abs. I’m happy with myself. I’m happy with my life now. I love myself. And I earned it.
I grab my last suitcase and then put my apartment keys under my welcome mat. I grab a water and my car keys before whistling for Cerberus. Only moments later, you could hear his paws hitting the ground as he raced towards me. I smiled to myself as I saw him jump to give me kisses. He was still small as he was just a puppy so I picked him up in my arms and left the building.
Getting in the driver side and putting Cerberus in the passenger side, I pull out of the parking garage and drive towards a gas station to get gas before our long journey to my home. I pick up some snacks for the way and make my way to the highway that will lead us to our destination.
With my windows down, “All Summer Long” by Kid Rock blasting through the speakers, and my curls whipping behind me, I couldn’t help but feel invincible as I made my way to the place that I would once again call my home and come to meet my family once again.
“While we were trying different things,
We were smoking funny things,
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song.
Sipping whiskey out the bottle,
Not thinking ’bout tomorrow,
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long,
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long.”