Small Victories

Day 2

The morning light filtered through the curtains as I woke, feeling every ache and strain from the day before. My body screamed for rest, but my mind knew I had no choice. A promise to Sebastian wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Sitting up slowly, I rubbed my eyes and glanced around the room. His side of the bed was empty, but I wasn’t surprised. He was always up before me, attending to matters that seemed more pressing than sleep.

There was a shopping bag placed neatly where he usually slept. I noticed it but didn’t check its contents. It wasn’t the time. I dragged myself to the bathroom, determined to start the day, and picked out something practical from the closet.

Raven greeted me in her usual no-nonsense manner, already stretching in the backyard. We began with the standard workout routine—jumping jacks, push-ups, and running laps around the yard. Despite my exhaustion, I pushed through, Raven’s sharp voice keeping me in line.

"Don't let your tiredness control you," she barked. "Your body’s limits are in your head. Break through them."

Her words stung but motivated me. By the time we moved to the shooting range, I was drenched in sweat but slightly more focused. Raven handed me the Glock 19 again, and we revisited everything from yesterday: grip, aim, and trigger control. My shots were slightly better, though Raven didn’t hesitate to critique every flaw.

“That’s improvement,” she finally admitted after a decent round of hits. “But you’ve got a long way to go before you can rely on this skill.”

The afternoon brought me to Mamba, where I picked up the knife once more. My slashes were less clumsy this time, and I even managed a few decent strikes against the dummy. Mamba’s gruff encouragement was a surprise. “Not bad,” he said, nodding. “You’re learning faster than I thought you would.”

By the time I returned to Sebastian’s room, my body was begging for sleep. I showered quickly and collapsed onto the bed, drifting off almost instantly.

Day 3

The third day started the same—exhaustion greeted me the moment I woke up. I followed the same routine: training with Raven in the morning and knife lessons with Mamba in the afternoon.

But my hands betrayed me during shooting practice, trembling and weak. Every recoil felt like a battle, and I missed most of my shots. Raven was patient but stern, telling me to focus despite the fatigue. “You’re training for survival, not comfort,” she reminded me.

Knife training with Mamba went better. He taught me a new way to hold the knife for defensive maneuvers, but I nearly cut myself trying to catch it when it slipped from my grasp. Mamba’s quick reflexes saved me, and he barked a warning about carelessness.

When the day finally ended, I spotted Sebastian in the compound. I greeted him as I passed, his casual response making me smile despite my tiredness.

Days 4 and 5

The routine of training settled into a rhythm, though it didn’t get easier. Raven introduced new drills to improve my aim and accuracy, pushing me to shoot while moving or under timed conditions. My performance was inconsistent at best, but she didn’t let up.

Mamba continued to challenge me with knife techniques, introducing quick strikes and counterattacks. He emphasized the importance of precision, reminding me that one well-placed strike could mean the difference between life and death.

Though physically grueling, I began to notice subtle improvements. My shots hit closer to the center, and my knife strikes carried more confidence. Small victories, but victories nonetheless.

Day 7

By the seventh day, my body had adjusted somewhat to the demands of training. The aches were still there, but they didn’t feel as debilitating. I woke up feeling a little more optimistic, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I stretched.

That morning, I finally noticed the shopping bag again. For days, it had sat untouched on the small table near my side of the bed. Curiosity finally got the better of me, and I opened it.

Inside were brand-new gadgets: an iPhone, a MacBook, and various Apple accessories. My breath caught as I pulled them out, the sleek designs gleaming in the morning light. It had been so long since I’d seen anything like this. Memories flooded back—days when I was the first to try out new tech before they hit the public market. Those were simpler times.

A pang of nostalgia hit me as I ran my fingers over the smooth surfaces. For a moment, I felt like the old Ariella, the one who lived without fear or pain.

Training that day ended earlier than usual, and I welcomed the break. I was sitting outside, catching my breath, when I heard the sound of cars entering the compound. My heart skipped a beat, and I stood up, brushing dirt off my hands as I walked toward the front gate.

I knew it was going to come today, and I was right on the money. There it was.

The car was a masterpiece, an ice-grey Porsche 911 parked elegantly near the driveway. Its sleek body reflected the sunlight, and my excitement bubbled over. I couldn’t contain my awe as I walked around it, running my fingers over the curves and admiring every detail.

“The interior…” I whispered to myself, peeking inside. The seats were upholstered in black leather with silver stitching, and the dashboard boasted the latest tech. The center console had a minimalist design, and the steering wheel looked perfectly ergonomic.

Sebastian approached me as I was marveling at the car, a faint smile on his lips. Before he could say a word, I ran toward him, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I gushed, unable to hide my joy.

He chuckled, patting my back. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” I corrected, stepping back to look at him.

He handed me the keys, and my hands trembled as I took them. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I started the engine, the low purr of the motor sending a thrill through me.

Evander, who had been standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Does she even know how to drive?”

Sebastian smirked. “Trust me, she knows how to drive—way more than you think.”

I shot them both a playful glare before focusing on the car again. It felt like a dream, sitting there in something so luxurious. I’d had cars like this before, but this moment felt different. Was it because it had been so long, or because of the person who had given it to me?

As Sebastian and Evander walked off to talk, I remained in the car, running my hands over the steering wheel and dashboard. My excitement slowly gave way to introspection.

This wasn’t just a car. It was a symbol of something bigger—a reminder of who I used to be and a glimpse of who I could become again. It filled me with a renewed sense of purpose.

I whispered to myself, a promise forming in my heart. “I’ll do my best. For him and for me.”