This is a new story of mine, based on real experiences. Please don't be too harsh when criticising. I will take criticism, though
I am a Martial Artist.
I'm Jo. Joanna De Zavala, actually, if you wanna go with formalities. I'm thirteen. I'm also a girl, if you haven't figured that out. I'm not normal, well, not completely. I look normal, I sound normal, I do normal things. There is the one quality I posses that makes me abnormal though.
I'm a state known, certified, specially trained martial artist.
-----
I don't like repeating history, so I'll briefly describe my first day and tournament.
------
I shuffle my sandals through the concrete. It's cracking, but I don't mind. I'm starting my first day of competiton training. I've never competed, but I want to.
I open the screen door, and that blast of hot air hits me. I see people already there, kicking targets, stretching, and flipping on the mats. I breathe in deeply and exhale. I walk to my coach's desk, where he's on his computer.
"Um, I'm here," I say nervously. He looks up and smiles.
"Glad you could make it, Joanna," He says, standing to shake my hand. I nervously shake it. My hands are freezing! I realize after I touch his sweaty palm. I quickly take back my hand.
My coach's name is Danian Torres. To his students, he is Mr. T, Mr. Torres, or just plain Sir.
Mr. T goes around his desk to guide me to the mat. I take out my blue belt and tie it around my waist as he briefs me on the class curriculum, if you wanna call it that. I nod, and step on the mats.
-----
"Faster, Joanna!" Mr. T shouts. I pant and strike quickly. I go down to the floor, lowsweeping, and landing one knee on the floor, the other up, my right arm in a punch, and my left in a chamber.
"Starighten your arm!" He shouts. I quickly get up into a low horse stance, elbowing then punching. I do a cartwheel and land in a power stance, one arm in a punch.
"Lower your stance, Joan!" He bellows. I do my kick combo, land in a horse stance, and shout, "KIA!" for at least a few seconds. I get up and bow. Mr. T shakes his head.
"You need to work on your technique," He says, as soon as I sit down. I'm trying to control my breathing, but I manage to listen and nod my head. He nods as well and calls class dismissed.
-----
"Ok, just relax," Mr. T said. I closed my eyes and nodded. Danica Falcon stood beside me.
"Yeah, don't worry about it," She said, in a friendly matter. I opened my eyes and smiled. I was ready. I knew it.
I was next. I had this sudden urge to go the the restroom when the head judge called, "Joanna De Zavala!"
"Yes sir!" I shouted, arm up. That's how you enter. I bowed to the ring, and strut in. Well, my attempt at a strut. I come to the center, facing the head judge.
"Judges, my name is Joanna De Zavala. My style is Martial Science. My form is Extreme Form One. With your permission, I shall begin." I say loudly. The judge nods.
"Thank you judges," I saw, bowing. I step back a bit, and breath in.
------
Well, long story short, I tied for first place. Being that the person that tied with me had no second form, (rules say you need a second form for a tie breaker), and I had a back up form I learned the day before, I ended up winning first place. That pretty much started the fire.
------
It's two years after that tournament. I went up one rank last year and age level last year. I've made friends, I've made enemies. I've gotten respect and titles. I've lost my top spot and gained it back. I have fallen, but gotten back up again. I've been tested for what matters most. In the end, only one tournament matters. One day, one chance.
That's my shot. The State Championships.
I am a Martial Artist.
I'm Jo. Joanna De Zavala, actually, if you wanna go with formalities. I'm thirteen. I'm also a girl, if you haven't figured that out. I'm not normal, well, not completely. I look normal, I sound normal, I do normal things. There is the one quality I posses that makes me abnormal though.
I'm a state known, certified, specially trained martial artist.
-----
I don't like repeating history, so I'll briefly describe my first day and tournament.
------
I shuffle my sandals through the concrete. It's cracking, but I don't mind. I'm starting my first day of competiton training. I've never competed, but I want to.
I open the screen door, and that blast of hot air hits me. I see people already there, kicking targets, stretching, and flipping on the mats. I breathe in deeply and exhale. I walk to my coach's desk, where he's on his computer.
"Um, I'm here," I say nervously. He looks up and smiles.
"Glad you could make it, Joanna," He says, standing to shake my hand. I nervously shake it. My hands are freezing! I realize after I touch his sweaty palm. I quickly take back my hand.
My coach's name is Danian Torres. To his students, he is Mr. T, Mr. Torres, or just plain Sir.
Mr. T goes around his desk to guide me to the mat. I take out my blue belt and tie it around my waist as he briefs me on the class curriculum, if you wanna call it that. I nod, and step on the mats.
-----
"Faster, Joanna!" Mr. T shouts. I pant and strike quickly. I go down to the floor, lowsweeping, and landing one knee on the floor, the other up, my right arm in a punch, and my left in a chamber.
"Starighten your arm!" He shouts. I quickly get up into a low horse stance, elbowing then punching. I do a cartwheel and land in a power stance, one arm in a punch.
"Lower your stance, Joan!" He bellows. I do my kick combo, land in a horse stance, and shout, "KIA!" for at least a few seconds. I get up and bow. Mr. T shakes his head.
"You need to work on your technique," He says, as soon as I sit down. I'm trying to control my breathing, but I manage to listen and nod my head. He nods as well and calls class dismissed.
-----
"Ok, just relax," Mr. T said. I closed my eyes and nodded. Danica Falcon stood beside me.
"Yeah, don't worry about it," She said, in a friendly matter. I opened my eyes and smiled. I was ready. I knew it.
I was next. I had this sudden urge to go the the restroom when the head judge called, "Joanna De Zavala!"
"Yes sir!" I shouted, arm up. That's how you enter. I bowed to the ring, and strut in. Well, my attempt at a strut. I come to the center, facing the head judge.
"Judges, my name is Joanna De Zavala. My style is Martial Science. My form is Extreme Form One. With your permission, I shall begin." I say loudly. The judge nods.
"Thank you judges," I saw, bowing. I step back a bit, and breath in.
------
Well, long story short, I tied for first place. Being that the person that tied with me had no second form, (rules say you need a second form for a tie breaker), and I had a back up form I learned the day before, I ended up winning first place. That pretty much started the fire.
------
It's two years after that tournament. I went up one rank last year and age level last year. I've made friends, I've made enemies. I've gotten respect and titles. I've lost my top spot and gained it back. I have fallen, but gotten back up again. I've been tested for what matters most. In the end, only one tournament matters. One day, one chance.
That's my shot. The State Championships.
