Forgotten What I Started Fighting For Novels & Stories

If I could raise my eyebrows even higher, I probably would have already done that as I asked Gunner, "Which means?" "Which means you'll abide by the rules your parents have left for you, and that the incident yesterday should not be happening again." I rolled my eyes. "In case you've forgotten, I have been abiding by the rules for more than a week now. As for the incident yesterday, well, that is something beyond my power, because it wasn't me, and it was never me, who started a fight. It was them who kept coming at me and beating the shit out of me. I never started a fight with them."

Fight for yourself, now. Halo finished. She was right. I fought to do well in everything, as a child, to make sure my mother didn't have to worry about me. And when she died, I fought to keep from crumbling so that my family didn't worry about me. I fought to remain sane living under my father's roof, and fought to maintain the promises I gave to those around me. All of what I have done has been for the benefit of others, never myself. It's time that I do for me.

*You have no idea what you just started. Because this time was different. This time I wasn't just fighting for myself or my freedom. I was fighting for everything my grandmother ever worked for and for my kids. Fighting for every dream she had for me. Fighting for the legacy she left in my hands to protect. And I swore right there in that police car, with my hands cuffed behind my back and my heart full of fire, that I would win this fight. No matter what it took. No matter how long it took. No matter who I had to take down along the way.

I was a fighter. And I was just getting started. ***

Cathy woke up tired. Not the kind sleep could fix. The kind that sat in the bones, heavy and permanent, like her heart had been running all night without her permission. For a moment she didn’t remember why. Then memory returned in pieces. The street. His voice. Daniel at her door. The message. I’m not done fighting for you. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Fighting. Why did that word still do something to her? Why did part of her — the foolish, bruised, loyal part — want to be fought for by the man who once handed her away so easily?

Anger burned inside my chest. “We will expose them.” My voice dropped lower. “And we will destroy them for good.” Liana didn’t speak. I continued staring at the board. “After I left all of this years ago… I failed Amara. She would have wanted me to keep fighting but I cowardly escaped.” My voice became quieter. “I forgot the war Amara was fighting.” I swallowed. “I forgot everything she sacrificed, I was too buried in my pain to even think of what she would have wanted.”

“We’ve been fighting a war and we didn’t even know what it was about.” He reached for me again, and this time I didn’t pull away. His hands were warm on my shoulders, grounding me. “I don’t care what they did,” he said, voice low and fierce. “Whatever our parents started—we end it. On our terms.” Tears blurred my vision. “What if we can’t?” “Then we burn everything they built and start over.” I looked up at him then, and for a moment the world stilled. The fury, the grief, the exhaustion—they were all still there, but beneath them was something stronger.

She just looked at me, her eyes searching my face like she was trying to remember who I used to be. "I forgot her name," she said finally, her voice so low I almost missed it. "Did you know that? For a whole week after she left, I couldn’t remember it. I told myself it didn’t matter, that forgetting her was the first step to moving on, even if she fucking left a child. But then today, you’ve made me remember. You said her name, and now it’s back, carved into my mind like a wound that refuses to close."

I drop the call, and close my eyes, reminiscing on how my life is taking a sharp turn. Do I still need to fight this cursed fate? What for? The idiot that I was fighting for has discarded me like I meant absolutely nothing to him.