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Rage!

by Jeri

We were in the Girls' Locker Room after gym class.

"Well, Plain Jane, I see you're slacking off, as usual."

That was Tracy. She was the head cheerleader, and made sure everyone knew it.

She was always insulting me. Or more precisely, she just right out didn't like me.

Years back when we were in grade school together, she and I had been friends, that is, until one time I beat her in a race. And ever since, she had been mocking me and insulting me every chance she got.

And it hadn't helped that she had gone on to be the head cheerleader, and I hadn't really gotten into sports that much. Yes, I had a good grade in gym, but I wasn't on any of the school teams. But I didn't really mind. Not that.

What I did mind was the way she treated me.

"So, I see I beat you again. You were dead last."

I hadn't been that far behind her, and there had been only the two of us in that heat. So of course, I was "dead last." But she still used every opportunity she could to deride me. That made me mad.

I had just changed and was closing my locker.

"Woof!!" I bent over holding my stomach and gasping. Tracy had elbowed me in the stomach!

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I hope that didn't hurt that soft belly or yours too much."

I huffed, trying to get my breath back. And I was well beyond mad. My face felt like it was on fire I was so mad.

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I was still mad, my face burning up. Standing there, looking down, I saw Tracy laying on the locker room floor, not moving. I kicked her lightly in the stomach, and she didn't move. She was unconscious.

Still raging mad, I looked around. The rest of the girls were just standing there looking at me with a shocked look on their faces. Still mad, I walked toward the door, clenching my fists tight. The girls parted as I walked toward the door, obviously keeping their distance.

Still just as mad, I left the locker room, down the hall, and out the school's side door.

Only slightly less mad, I realized I couldn't remember anything from when Tracy taunted me until I saw her laying there.

I took off at a dead run. I didn't know why, I just had to run. Run as fast as I could.

I thought about my blacking out like that. And I came to an immediate halt, sliding on the wet grass. I had read that a concussion can make you lose your memory. And if that was what it was, I most certainly didn't want to be jostling my brain around running. But I didn't feel like I had a concussion, though I didn't really know what a concussion felt like. But at least I didn't have a headache.

I continued on my way home, walking slowly this time. Trying to remember what had happened, I went over it in my mind.

I had gone into the locker room after gym. Tracy had insulted me with her "dead last" comment. Then, I was standing over her on the floor. It didn't make any sense.

I went over it again. I had my gym class. I went to the locker room after gym. That I remembered. I could also remember everything I had done at school today before that. After showering and changing into some comfortable clothes, I closed my locker. Tracy insulted me and elbowed me in the stomach. I got mad. Then, I was standing over her and kicked her in the stomach.

Wait a minute! I didn't remember her elbowing me the last time I had remembered it! Everything from her elbowing me until I was standing there was a blank!

Slowly, I started to think about that. I tried to remember each detail of her elbowing me. Slowly, I tried to remember.

Suddenly, there was a snap in my mind, exploding with enough energy that I rocked back on my heels and had to catch myself so I didn't fall back on my butt.

I could remember! I could remember everything! I could remember every little detail, and beyond that. I could remember every detail of what happened to me. I could remember everything in so much detail that it was like an IMAX movie compared to the Super 8 of real life. A Movie not only of sight and sound, but of mind, including every detail, every sensation the human body was capable of feeling.

And I remembered. Everything.

I was mad, raging mad. Tracy elbowing me in the stomach was the last straw. Her elbow had penetrated deep into my completely-relaxed stomach, right at the navel. I felt it penetrate, but not deeply enough that it hit my backbone. If I had been less mad, I would have been grateful that my abs were hard enough that they had warded off at least that much of the blow.

"Oh, I'm sorry, she said. "I didn't see you there." Tracy looked directly at me, bent over like that, and smiled that sly little smile she used whenever she was taunting me. "I hope that didn't hurt that soft belly or yours too much."

And with a small giggle, she turned back to her friends.

That did it for me. I flew into a blind rage. My face felt like it was on fire. My vision narrowed so all I saw was Tracy. I forgot all about my still-aching stomach.

I closed the distance to her in a single step. Grabbing her arm, I spun her around. Now looking at me, she started out with that same sly smile. But it rapidly changed to a look of surprise.

Before she could react, I pushed her head down and wove my arms in hers, and clasped my hands behind her neck, putting her into an inverse Full Nelson, pulling in her head close to my armpit, leaving her bent over. Then immediately, I thrust my knee up into the middle of her exposed stomach.

I said my memory of this was vivid? Well, I remembered the feeling of my bare knee as it impacted on her bare belly. Her stomach wasn't rock hard, but it was definitely not soft. I could feel the ridges of muscle on my kneecap as my knee, with all the weight of my whole leg behind it, drove up into her abs, right in the middle, right at her navel, right where she had elbowed me. My knee could feel that she had a slight six-pack, one I had noticed when she was naked in the shower. But those muscles, though pronounced enough that she would be noticed by the boys when she was wearing a bikini, were no match for the mass of leg-muscle that propelled my knee deep into the muscles, deep into her insides. But as with me, her muscles stopped my knee before it hit her backbone. But it had the effect I wanted.

Tracy let out a little grunt and a quickly-terminated cry, more of a little chirp than a cry. And that was it. I couldn't see her face, what with her head tucked tight against my body, but I could imagine her eyes wide open and her mouth wide open to match her eyes.

I wasn't going to stop there. My rage drove me on. Swinging my leg back. I thrust it forward and up again, driving it into the same place in her stomach it had vacated less than a half second ago. This time, it encountered more resistance.

I felt my knee impact on hard muscle. I would have thought it was the hard muscles of a boxer's stomach. But I decided it was just a reaction to my first knee. Her stomach was shocked, spasming tight after the pain of that first blow, automatically, not under her control. So my second knee didn't penetrate as deeply. But I knew it penetrated deep enough to do just as much damage as the first. And this time, the only sound I heard was the thud of my knee impacting her rigid belly. She made no sound at all.

I was in a rage. So again not stopping, I thrust my knee up into her gut. Her muscles were still cramped from that first wave of pain, so they were just as hard. But my rage was growing in strength, so my knee-strikes were growing in strength.

The third, harder knee thrust sank in deeper, pushing into her taut muscles. I could still feel that six-pack of muscles in her stomach, but this time, she wasn't using them to show off on the beach. In fact, she didn't have any control of them at all. They were cramping up from the intense pain they were experiencing.

I was still mad, madder than ever. I swung my leg further back and jammed it forward into her stomach again, in the same place. This time, I could feel her whole stomach trembling, not only from the effort of holding her muscles hard to protect her belly, not only from the punishment it had been taking, but also from the pain it had been enduring.

All those details? How her stomach felt to my knee? How much it penetrated into her stomach on each knee strike? Well, I hadn't been thinking of any of that. All I had been thinking of was hitting her belly with my knee, as fast as I could, as many times as I could, as hard as I could, all to hurt her as much as I could. In fact, I was in such a blinding, furious rage, that I really wasn't thinking about even that at all. I was just ... well ... I don't know what I was just. In any case, I wasn't consciously thinking about anything but my rage, my intense hatred of her.

OK, so if I wasn't even thinking, then how did I remember all those details? I certainly wasn't thinking about my knee sinking into her gut and how each of those strikes felt. And I doubt that if I had been a hundred percent lucid, I would have been able to remember every single detail of every single knee strike as I did. Well, I gave up on that one. Maybe it was ... I don't know. In any case ...

I swung my knee up into the middle of her belly, the same place, driving deep into her this time. It was obvious that the strength of my strikes had crossed a threshold, and my knee was penetrating deep into her gut. Or more likely, all the punishment her stomach muscles had been taking finally took their toll, and they just gave out. It was probably the later. They were still there, I could feel their outline on my kneecap, but they had lost any semblance of tone. Tracy must have keep her stomach at least a little taut for that first knee I threw at her, as the latest one dug deep into her belly, finally going all the way to her backbone. And the impact this time, angled upward as it was, raised her feet up, if not off the floor, at least to the tips of her toes. And this time, she made a little grunt as my knee sunk in.

So far, except for that little chirp on the first impact, she hadn't made any noise. I think I had shocked her stomach and body so much that she couldn't talk at all. I most certainly didn't give her an opportunity to say anything. Initially, I had buried my knee in her gut immediately after I spun her around. And ever since, I had been striking her with knees to her stomach, spaced less than a second apart, so fast that she didn't have any opportunity to say anything between them.

Swinging back again, I punched my knee up into the same place, sinking in almost as deep, but not to the backbone this time. I knew she wasn't consciously tightening up her stomach muscles, so it must have been her battered muscles spasming on their own again. I don't know if that protected her from my knee or if it made for a better, harder target, one that would not absorb the impact, but would transmit the impact deeper into her belly, probably doing more damage than one that went all the way to her backbone. In any case, her body lifted up to her toes again, just as high.

I drove another knee up into her belly, to the backbone again, with a little grunt again. With her body face-down like she was, I couldn't see my target. But I was sure by now that it was almost beet red from all the punishment I had been giving it.

I'm sure that if I was more lucid instead of in that blind, stinking rage, I would have changed my target a little. Tracy had a wide, flat, cheerleader's stomach. If I had aimed a few inches to the left or right, my knee would have sunk into her still-flat but way less muscular obliques on either side of her harder abs. Yes, I had seen those too when she was in the shower. My knee strikes there would certainly sink in deep, deep into her guts, unprotected by the softer muscles there. But as I said, I wasn't thinking.

I drove another knee into her navel. It actually felt squishy it was so soft. In fact, I could feel her internal organs on my knee, no longer protected by any muscle tone at all. In fact, as my knee withdrew, I could feel her intestines sloshing back into place.

Now, there was nothing to protect her stomach. Her muscles were completely gone. So the next knee was more of the same, digging deep into her soft, compliant belly.

And the next one went in the same.

Tracy wasn't crying. In fact, she wasn't making any sound at all, other than the occasional grunt. I would have thought she would have been bawling her eyes out from the pain. But with my constant barrage of knees to her now-delicate stomach, I think she didn't have the time to even cry. I think the constant shock, constant pain of my knees driving deep into her gut like they were kept her from even thinking about crying.

I drove one more knee up into her middle, then released her. But before she could fall to the floor, I grabbed her upper arms and pushed her back against the lockers, pinning her there.

I finally got a chance to look at her body, at the target I had been pummeling. As I had thought, it was a deep red. But due to my hitting the same target all the time, there was only a single dark red, circular spot, centered on her navel.

I drove her back against the lockers. But not giving her even a fraction of a second respite, I jammed my knee into her stomach again, but this time, selecting a different target.

Tracy gagged as my knee drove upward into her upper stomach, driving into her hardest muscles, in her upper abs. But of course, they weren't hard any longer, having collapsed as part of a general collapse of all the muscles in her stomach. But I hadn't been aiming for her upper stomach muscles anyway. I had been aiming for that cluster of nerves that they protected, the solar plexus, though of course, there wasn't any muscle left to protect it in any case.

Tracy's eyes snapped open wide and her breath burst from her mouth as my knee hit the precise spot to do the most damage, and to cause the most pain. She breathed out in a loud, long whoosh, but didn't breathe back in. She couldn't.

So the next knee to the same spot, again less than a second after the first one, drove deep into her sucked-in upper stomach. I could actually feel my knee digging into that nerve bundle, crushing it against her backbone and the lower ribs of her back. Her face contorted into a grimace, her eyes widening and her mouth forming into the shape of a silent "O."

A second later, another knee rammed into the same place, but her expression didn't change. In fact, she didn't seem to be moving much at all. I suspect the shock of those knees to her solar plexus had frozen not only her breathing, but her mind as well. I know she was still conscious, as you could see her wide eyes twitching slightly.

Another second, another knee. There was absolutely no resistance to her abs now. But at least as my knee withdrew, she took in a breath, though it was a jerky breath.

Of course, I was still as raging mad as ever.

Another knee drove into her upper abs. But at the last moment, Tracy jerked a little, obviously not under her own control, and my knee went low, still driving into her upper abs, but missing the solar plexus.

I changed my stance. I released my grip on her arms, but put my left forearm across her upper chest, still holding her tight against the lockers, but leaving my right arm free.

Or more accurately, my right fist.

I balled my fist tight and drove it into her upper abs, into her solar plexus. It penetrated easily through her flaccid muscles, going all the way in. Having less frontal area than my knee, it penetrated deeper than my knee had. Instead of spreading the impact over the whole knee, the punch concentrated only slightly less energy in that smaller area, allowing the punch to crush the muscles, the solar plexus, and all the other organs in its way, compressing them all against the center of her backbone.

I don't know how, but Tracy's eyes opened wider than they had been. And they opened wider still on the next punch.

But on the third punch, they started to close, slowly. And in the next three seconds, and the next three punches, her eyes crossed and closed completely. She was unconscious.

But that didn't stop me. The rage was still on me, so I didn't even notice that my punches weren't even causing her to flinch. Of course, in the condition I was in, even if I had realized she was out, I may have just kept punishing her gut anyway. And of course, while she wouldn't feel the new punches when they landed, she would still be feeling them for the next few days.

My boiling rage didn't die down. But after a few more punches to Tracy's solar plexus with no response, I stopped. And delivering one last punch directly to her middle, where I had started, I stepped back and let her slide down the lockers to the floor. But seeing her there, my rage still on me, I hauled back and kicked her in her soft, red stomach, kicked her three times, then rolled her over onto her back.

I was still mad, my face burning up. I stood there, looking down at Tracy laying on the locker room floor, not moving. I kicked her lightly in the stomach, and she didn't move, indicating she was definitely unconscious.

Still raging mad, I looked around. The rest of the girls were just standing there looking at me with a shocked look on their faces. Obviously, they knew not to try to deal with me, at least not in the state I was in. Still mad, I walked toward the locker room door, clenching my fists tight. The girls parted as I walked, keeping their distance.

Still just as mad, I left the locker room, down the hall, and out the school's side door.

And there you have it.

The next day, Tracy was absent from school. In fact, she was absent the rest of the week. And when she came back, she kept well away from me, at least for the next few weeks.

Things got back to normal. I found I had more friends than I realized. Maybe a lot of them were like me, and had been bullied by Tracy.