Abby Everett

If you haven't read Garret's write-up yet, you might want to do that first.

Abby Everett

I think it’s because I’m a middle child. Middle children get lost, or go unnoticed. Mom had me start karate early because I’m a girl, but I think Dad knew about middle children. Martial arts develop self-confidence, a competitive spirit and discipline. Well, two out of three isn’t bad.

I miss having Dad around. To be brutally honest, I wish we had him living with us instead of Mom. I’d never let her know that, even if I was really mad at her, of course. It’s just that Dad understood the way of the world more than her. I think that’s because he was a soldier. He’s somewhere in Iraq right now, as a matter of fact. Not a wavering bone in that man’s body. Well, not that I saw, though Mom thinks differently. I never worry about Dad. He’s a survivor. If I was the enemy, I’d worry.

I started karate when I was three. It wasn’t really karate then, more like team building and teamwork exercises, but it was a good foundation. I really got into it around ten years old, mostly because that’s when I noticed that some of my classmates were outpacing me.

I’d been one of the top two students in my group, so dropping somewhere in the middle didn’t sit well with me. I started to practice … hard. Everyday in fact. My little brother, Garret, would spar with me. Mom thought I was pushing myself too hard, but sometimes that’s what it takes, plus she and Dad were getting the divorce then so it was better to be gone. I worked my butt off, but I just didn’t improve. I mean, I did, but not enough. Everybody else was hanging onto their leads. It really bugged me. I got irritable about it. Even thought of quitting. I mean, if you can’t be one of the best, why do it, right?

I signed up for a tournament, half expecting to get creamed, but something happened. I was loosing the match against this taller girl. She was really pretty. Then I just found this focus. It was like time slowed down. I zeroed right in, and bang, I broke her nose. She bled everywhere.

So that’s sort of what it’s like when it happens. Like when that kid Dave wouldn’t leave Garret alone. You’d think he’d learn after that shove that Garret gave him. Kid went flying, but he got up and started mouthing off anyway. Garret just walked away, because he’s like that, but I waited a minute and then walked right up to him. Pop. “Did you like that?” Pop pop. “Hang on, let me see if your friends like it.” There were like ten of them, and I didn’t get a scratch. When I was done, and I took my time about it too, that Dave kid wasn’t even moving. He bled everywhere. Some of his friends were calling me a mutie when I’d had enough, but I didn’t care. So what if I am? I thought.

Two weeks later, somebody set fire to our house. Mom was scared. After that, we moved from North Carolina to New Hampshire. Mom worked so hard to get that house. She really loved it. I guess I did too. The day we moved, I cried like a baby. I cried everywhere.

I never told Mom, or my big brother Colby what happened. I think Garret’s too young. It’s probably best they don’t know.