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NINETEEN
LILY’s POV
“Float like a butterfly sting like a bee” ― Muhammad Ali
I look to my left and right, sizing my competition up. All around me are men; big, tall and strong. Apart from Ian, I am probably…no, I am definitely the most petite in this group. But that does not matter. Having trained alongside most of these men the past few weeks, I have come to know of their strengths and weaknesses; and I am sure they know mine as well. But what I do not know are the strong and weak points of the other men who just came in today. Apparently, they had trained elsewhere.
“Hey sweetheart, how bout we have some fun after all this is over?” one of them snickers, his dark brown eyes roaming me from head to toe. I take an instant dislike towards him. He is tall, lean and sports a shaved head, unlike the rest of the men here who wear their crowning glory with pride. There is also a tattoo of a serpent on his neck.
I choose to
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LILY’s POV BANG! The first shot is for father, who suffered mercilessly at the hands of Sergio. BANG! The second is for mother who forever lost her dearly beloved. BANG! BANG! The third and forth are for Rose and Thomas who now have to live a life without father and finally... BANG! The last shot is for myself and every other woman whose lives have forever been ruined by the madman. Smoke spirals from the tip of the gun and a lone tear trails down my check. It is done, my fate is sealed and with the back of my hand, I wipe the tear away hoping for it to be the last drop of sorrow I ever have to shed. Now all I can do is wait for the rest of the men to finish with their shooting. It does seem to take forever thoughand by the time the last shot is fired, the sun has bid its goodbye and the moon is high up in the sky. I squint my eyes, peering at the targets that are a distance away and try to see how I fared
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