The Fighter Within. B. Cochrane Clark

      Chapter 1

      Her feet hit the pavement one after the other; mile after mile, she continued on. She felt as if she was on a nice leisurely stroll as opposed to the half-marathon run. It had taken her quite a while to get to this point in her fitness level. When she had first started out, hell, a half mile jog kicked her butt. It’s funny how a desk job can take a fit person from a level ten to a level zero in no time at all, it seemed. Even so, she pushed through all the pain and countless times she just wanted to lay down and die. Running seemed to be the only thing in her life she felt she could control. Her body. Her rules.

      Music blasting through her headphones, she refused to give in to the urge to remember, to think at all. Lost in her music, she ran. She ran past houses, across bridges, and down what seemed to be an abandoned mountain road. The winter so far had been unusually mild, with only a few snowstorms that had the fields and hills covered in snow. The roads, however, were mostly clear, allowing her to be outside running instead of on that damn treadmill. She used it when she had to, but if there was any way to be outside running, then that is what she did. The cold didn’t bother her; in fact, sometimes the cold was what she craved. It helped numb every last bit of her, and that was what she needed, to not feel. Inhaling deeply, the bitter cold mountain air filled her lungs and her entire body. This was as close to calm as she had felt in almost a year.

      Wow, a year. Had it really been that long? It still felt like yesterday when she was getting out of that hospital.

      It had been just over a week when she woke up in the ER and Dr. Anderson informed her that she had been brutally raped, beaten, and left for dead.

      “Good morning, Sydney! Are you ready to finally get out of here?” Dr. Anderson asked her.

      “More than you could ever imagine, Doc.”

      “Well, let’s check you over one more time and have Nurse Jillian take your vitals, and assuming all of that checks out, I’ll have the nurses prepare your discharge.”

      Sydney smiled and sighed with relief. They were all super nice here at the hospital, but, let’s face it, she was ready to get out of here. Her face was still swollen a bit from her broken cheekbone and fractured nose, and she was sure the yellowing around her eyes left from the bruises would never go away. Her rib cage was starting to heal some, but there was no denying the pain of four broken ribs. Unfortunately, the doctor said there was not much they could do for those. Wrapping them to apply pressure helped very little, but a little is better than nothing. Nevertheless, she needed to get out and find the slime who put her in there. “Thank you, Doc.”

      “No!” Sidney screamed out loud. “I will not let you have that power! I will not let you run my thoughts!” Turning her music up louder, she pushed herself harder. Running faster and faster, like if she ran fast enough, she could lose each and every memory completely. Hoping she would lose them for good.

      Taking the last curve up the steep mountain road, her cabin came into view. The last cabin on this road, with not a single neighbor for at least a mile. She loved it that way, she needed it that way.

      As she stepped into the cabins back door into the laundry room, she was greeted by her overly excited German shepherd, Nikita. At ten months old, she was a ball of fire. Sydney had gotten her about a month after the incident, to distract her thoughts and help calm her, and secretly, she was also hoping Nikita would be a mean-ass dog. That way, if anyone messed with her, they would regret it. Even though she was the sweetest and most adorable pup. She was light brown with a dark-chocolate, almost black, pattern

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