Poisoned Bloodlines

     As I jogged on the trail, I remembered the story my mother used to tell me every night.  My thoughts swarmed around me, playing out the entire story. I saw the leader of a wolf pack as he led his pack through the forest.  When he drank from the lake next to the toxic waste disposal plant, he lifted his head, snout wet with water, and grew to three times the size of a normal wolf.  With his sudden growth spurt came intense hunger, so he went in search of food.     Nearby a young couple, settlers who were new to the area, sat around a campfire to keep warm.  When his journey led him to this family, the wolf attacked. He bit each of them but succeeded in killing none of them.  When the wolf’s saliva mixed with the settlers’ DNA, they too were infected like the wolf. The next day, the settlers experienced enhanced strength and healing powers.     The memory of the story quickly faded, and with it, I also left the jogging trail behind me as I neared the house.  I saw my mother standing on the porch, awaiting my return. With a burst of speed, I sprinted towards her, but I suddenly experienced a vision.  I was standing over my mother who was bleeding, and I had blood on my knuckles. I shook the vision off, and climbed the steps of the porch. “Jueletta, is everything ok?” My mother asked as I slid through the screen door.     “Yes, everything’s fine.”  I reassured her as I went into my room, and closed the door behind me. I was on my way to becoming a heavyweight kickboxing champion.   I went over to my weight bench in the corner of my room and did a few reps of two-ten. After I finished that, I did eighty crunches and fifty push-ups.  This was my daily routine. I had to stay fit, because I was a kickboxer. I thought of how I had to fight tomorrow, so I put my gloves on, and went to my punching bag in the corner.  I had to practice for tomorrow.     I thought about my vision, and how it couldn’t possibly be real.  I had always shared my visions with my mother, but this time I hadn’t.  So I had to hide it from her until the fight. Looking out the window, I realized how late it really was.  After finishing brushing my teeth and hair, I flopped onto the couch next to my mom. We would always hang out the night before a fight.     I got my bag of makeover supplies from the coffee table.  With a little thought I formulated a plan. I got eyeshadow, eyeliner, lipstick, and facial glitter from my bag.  I gave my mom a sly smile and began her makeover. By the end she had purple lips, glitter eyelids, and a fishtail braid.  Then she began on my makeover.     “So, are you excited for the fight tomorrow?”  She asked me while applying eyeliner, to give me cat eyes.     “Yes, why do you even have to ask.  You know I love fighting.” I said, while trying not to make her smear lipstick everywhere.     “It’s just that you seemed pretty upset about something this morning.”  My eyes popped open. She was on to me. She knew that I was hiding something.  My brain wrestled with my options. I could tell her about the vision. Possibly keeping her out of harm’s way.  Or I could keep it a secret. For some reason my brain chose the latter.     “It was nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”  I immediately felt guilt twisting my stomach into an uncomfortable knot.     “Your makeover is finished princess.  Now we can take a selfie.” I took the picture, but when I looked at it afterwards I saw something unusual in my eyes.  I realized it must have been the gleam of deception. I placed our newest picture on the wall. We took one before every fight.  Now I had a total of eighteen pictures.     After a while of mindless chatter with my mom I listened to her tell the story of the settlers and the wolf.  This too was routine before a fight. A while later I went in search of my dad. He was in his room glued to the tv.  He looked up as I came in.      “Hey beauty queen, I see you’ve gotten your makeover already.  Come watch the game with me. But make sure you don’t get sparkles all over.”  I sat with him and watched the boxing championships. We hung out through constant side comments of the moves.     My dad and I had never been close until I had started boxing.  Now we had a bond because of that. At night we would all sit at the table and talk.  Most times my dad and I would start ranting about kickboxing. That’s when my mom would get frustrated with us.  She couldn’t understand any part of kickboxing.     “Well, I think I’m going to turn in for the night dad.  You know, I’ve got to fight tomorrow. So I need my rest.”  I said.     “Sure thing kiddo.  Sweet dreams.” He said without taking his gaze from the tv screen.  I gave him a hug and went to my room. As soon as I got to my room I washed my face free of all makeup and flopped onto the bed.  Within seconds I was asleep.         The sun shone in my eyes when my mom woke me up.  Then I realized the fight was today. I had ten minutes before we had to make our way to the ring.  So I quickly got ready and hurried everyone else until we were all piled into the car. This was normal. I always got excited before a fight.   I stood by my stool while the announcer introduced us. “This is Julietta Bellerive in the right corner, weighing in at one-hundred and thirty five pounds.  In the left corner is Clare Kane, the heavyweight kickboxing world champion, weighing in at one-hundred fifteen pounds.  Today, we will see who claims the title of heavyweight kickboxing world champion.”     When the announcer finished, I turned to my dad, my coach.  He nodded to me to see if I was ready. I nodded, and slid my mouthpiece in.     “Jueletta, remember, she’s only strong when she kicks you.  Keep her blocked in and fake her out. You have the upper hand in this fight.  I want to see you with that title to your name by this fight’s end. Go get em’.”  He said as I stood.     I went forward and stood in front of Clare.   She looked small, but she was aggressive. As we punched gloves, she used a little too much force.  When the starting bell rang, she bolted towards me and tried to kick me. I ducked and backed up, making sure to keep moving my feet.  I came towards her and faked her out with my left hand, while getting a nice right upper-cut as she moved out of the way. She staggered back but caught herself on the ropes, and quickly regained her balance.  But just when I thought I was safe, she kicked me in a pressure point at the base of my neck.  I went down, and watched as the crowd became a blur of noiseless faces. Then, I spotted a face I would know anywhere.   It was the face of Bob Chat, a famous kickboxing coach.  I turned my head and looked up at the referee, he was counting 5, 4, 3.  With a renewed strength, I pulled myself to my feet. Clare’s face was a mix of shock and disbelief.  With one punch to the gut, she was down.  I stood in shock, for a moment.  Until I finally realized I had won.