Punch, Punch, Punch...

Casey walked into the Room of Requirement. No, walked was the wrong word. It was too gentle. She stalked. She stormed. She stomped. She looked around and gave a half smile at what the room had produced for her. She was surrounded by a perfect work out room. She had changed into black yoga pants, a tight black t shirt, and white, blue, and green running shoes. She pulled her hair into a pony tail and wrapped her hands in cloth as she walked over to a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

Bam. Pow. Smack. Casey started beating the crap out of the bag, pouring every bad thing into her punches and kicks. She hadn't seen or heard from Liam in forever. He'd disappeared. Pow. She'd been treed like an animal in the forest by her house. Pow. Her sister wasn't getting any better. She still had terrible nightmares. Pow. And Casey herself couldn't get her tormentors from her first school out of her head. Pow. Thud. She'd hit the bag with enough force to knock it from the ceiling. She left it.

Casey turned and saw a treadmill. She got on it and turned it up. Way up. She sprinted and tried not to think about anything. When she felt like her legs would collapse, she turned the treadmill off and lay on the floor, starting to do sit ups. She was soaked in sweat and her muscles screamed, but she didn't want to stop. Concentrating on the punishing physical work allowed her not to think or feel. And that's all she really wanted.