ELENA'S POV;

The rain spluttered against the window, and the cold wind blew against my skin, but I continued to punch the bag. It was dark, and the moon cast its light through the window into the room. The sound of my fist echoed in the room with a steady rhythm. Training for three weeks straight hadn't been easy, but it was all worth it because I felt better, stronger, harder. My emotional instability decreased...things I hadn't even cherished about myself like the scars on my flesh didn't even matter to me anymore. I didn't try to hide it, I didn't get too conscious, I didn't hate myself like I...