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Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Kick.
Breathe, and do it again.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Kick.
Breathe.
Hit hard. Hit to leave bruises.
Hit to kill.
Breathe.
Left. Right. Left. Rig-
Wake up.
Breathe. Again.
Left. Right.
Wake up.
Hey! Wake up!!!
“What?”
The next hit collided with the bag, and the hook broke with an awful ringing noise. There was a loud thud as leather collided with linoleum, then the soft sound of spilling sand. That had never happened before… or maybe it had. Maybe it had all too many times. It resets anyway. Doesn’t matter.
“Hello? Earth to Sofia? Or do you only know Russian too?” an agitated voice called out.
“Actually, Yuri was lying about that,” a much more timid voice interjected.
“Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway, because she won’t wake up.”
“You don’t know that. She just might be a bit dazed.”
“Hellooo,” the angry voice spoke, much closer this time. “Can you even hear me?”
Everything felt so strange. Voices, although undoubtedly close, sounded as though there was a wall in the way. Was there? No, there couldn’t be. Those people are just within peripheral vision…
Oh. The bag reset. There it is, swinging like nothing had touched it before. Odd.
Don’t think too much about it. Keep going.
Left. Right. Left. R-
A strong hand took the punch instead of the bag, and suddenly she could feel. The sensation of skin meeting skin sent a shockwave of awareness through her body that she hadn’t felt in… she can’t even remember how long. She had seen the people around her before, but now she saw them. She was observing them. Acknowledging them.
“Hey. Can you stop for a second? Can you hear me?” a deep but gentle voice called to her. After a moment of bewilderment, she nodded slowly. One of the onlookers gasped with excitement, and the other sighed in relief.
“Thank God,” the angry voice grumbled. The person in front of Sofia, still holding her fist, looked her up and down.
“Are you alright?” he asked. Again, another slow nod, which prompted him to release her fist. “You’re Sofia, right? Sofia Petrovich?” A pause, then a nod.
“Yes…” A soft hum from the angry one.
“Look at that. She speaks.”
“Be nice, Rhonda, she’s having trouble,” the timid voice lightly scorned. Finally, a name to connect with a voice. Rhonda.
“Clearly. She’s stiff as a board. Did she forget how to move?” Rhonda grumbled. Sofia finally turned her head to get a clear view of her. Rhonda’s dark curls hung loosely around her face, sticking out from under her black cap, and her dark amber eyes bored into everything she looked at. Her stance was intimidating, but not exactly confident. More like aggressive.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Sofia?” the timid one asked gently. Sofia decided to finally get a good look at him, too. His soft features caught her attention first—the gentle smile on his lips felt soft and warm, like the caramel highlights in his hair.
“Yes, I… am sure,” Sofia responded slowly. Her eyes were slowly starting to lose that glassy quality as she became more aware of her surroundings. The stiffness in her limbs finally melted away as she looked around. She was in the gym. She was always in the gym. How long had she been in the gym?
“What time is it…?” Sofia asked softly. The three exchanged glances before the timid one looked up at the clock.
“It’s 6:30,” he said, a bit confused. “Why?” Sofia seemed very lost.
“I… stayed here longer than I intended…” she spoke absently, looking around for her things. The tall one, the one who caught her punch, sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair.
“Yeah, uh… a lot longer, probably. Like…” he glanced at his friends, who both nodded nervously. “Like a decade, or… four.” Sofia’s brows furrowed.
“Decade… what are you talking about?” she asked, utterly lost. Her own accent felt foreign to her; she hadn’t spoken in a long, long time. She continued to look around for her things but couldn’t seem to find them. “Have you seen my bag? My water…?”
Rhonda sighed and looked to the tall one.
“Wally, this was a terrible idea,” she scolded. The tall one—Wally, apparently—scoffed.
“Hey, don’t yell at me, this was Charley’s plan,” he retorted. Sofia inwardly celebrated at having a name for each person now.
“How was I supposed to know it would go like this?” Charley argued. “I figured she’d wake up like Quinn did! Y’know, aware of the current year, and the fact that we’re all-“
“Dead,” Sofia interrupted quietly, much to their shock. “I’m… dead. I’ve been dead. I… remember… I think?” She looked up at the three ghosts, confused. Charley sighed a little, his voice gentle.
“Sorry, Sofia. Maybe we could have broken this a little bit more gently to you,” he apologized. Sofia shook her head.
“No, I… I remember now, I just…” she managed to mumble, running her fingers through her messy, sweaty hair. “I’m not sure why I didn’t… Why any of this is the way it is… It doesn’t make sense.” Charley gave her a sympathetic look.
“We can explain everything to you, don’t worry,” he promised. Wally nodded.
“Right. We’ll get you up to speed, maybe get you some food, and…” he suggested.
“A shower…” Sofia mumbled. “Shower first, please.” Wally and Charley glanced at Rhonda, who nodded begrudgingly.
“I’ll find you some clothes,” she muttered, walking toward the showers and expecting Sofia to follow. Her dazed expression remained as she took in the world around her as if for the first time.
The warm water trailed down Sofia’s back like a lover’s caress, soothing her aching muscles. God only knows how long she had been hitting that punching bag until it broke. According to Wally, almost 40 years.
40 years.
“Have I been dead for 40 years?” she heard herself ask. It was strange hearing her voice again after so long. She was acutely aware of the faint Russian accent that peeked through her words when she pronounced an “r” or a “t.”
“Do you really not remember at all?” Rhonda’s voice echoed from around the shower wall. Sofia racked her brain, sighing as the soap worked to detangle the aftermath of her braids. Her blonde hair was just so thick it was hard to get a brush through it.
“I’m… still not sure what year it is,” she admitted. Rhonda sighed, her voice a bit more gentle.
“It’s 2025,” she said, her voice holding a tinge of sadness. Silence crept into the room, the only sound the steady fall of water. It made Sofia’s skin crawl.
“So it’s been… 38 years?” she responded, mainly just to end the silence.
“Yeah. Sounds right,” Rhonda agreed. Sofia nodded faintly as she rinsed herself off. The soap flowed down her back and onto the floor, slowly sinking into the drain when she turned the water off. Rhonda sighed softly, getting up to give her some privacy.
“I’ll be right outside when you’re done. If the clothes don’t fit, I’ll find some different ones,” she stated, shutting the door behind her. Sofia took her time drying off and putting the clothes on; they were loose, but she liked it. She put her hair up with a claw clip she found in one of the lockers, inwardly promising to fix her braids when it dried. It felt good to have clean, soft clothes on; apparently this was the first time in almost 40 years she did anything other than punch.
“I’m finished,” Sofia called quietly as she emerged from the locker room. Rhonda looked her over and nodded in approval.
“Better. You’re hungry, yeah?” she asked, prompting a nod from Sofia. “I think Wally and Charley are waiting in the cafeteria.” Sofia trailed close behind, practically looming over Rhonda with her tall, muscular build. Her steps were heavy, but not loud, and she kept her hands in her pockets.
“Rhonda?” she asked after a beat.
“Yeah?” Rhonda replied.
“Why did you not wake me before?”
“We… we couldn’t. We tried at the very start, but… you just wouldn’t wake up. We assumed that…”
“It was impossible,” Sofia finished for her. “Why was I stuck like that? Did I do nothing but punch the bag the whole time?”
“Not entirely. Sometimes you stopped to get water, or use the bathroom, but you went right back to it. You were doing what we call ‘looping,’ and you’re not the only one. The band does the same thing, constantly doing their routine and practicing like they’re about to go to a competition. Like they don’t realize that they’re dead.”
“That… is quite sad. At least they aren’t in pain.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well… I couldn’t feel anything. I suppose it might be different for them, but… I wasn’t really thinking. Just the same order of punches, over and over. It didn’t feel like any time had passed at all.”
“So it just took a minute for you to come back to your senses, is that it?” Rhonda asked as she opened the door to the cafeteria.
“Yes… When, um… I believe it was Wally, right? That caught my punch?” Sofia asked, looking to Rhonda for confirmation. She nodded, and Sofia continued. “When that happened, it felt like seeing everything for the first time. Not just seeing it, but processing it. Being…”
“Aware?” Wally finished for her as he sat down at one of the cafeteria tables. Sofia nodded, opening her mouth to speak before being cut off by agitated slamming noises in the kitchen. Charley groaned loudly in exasperation and kicked the oven door.
“Wally! The goddamn oven is stuck again!” he complained, prompting both Wally and Sofia to stand. She wandered into the kitchen and leaned down in front of the oven, examining it.
“The door won’t open?” she inquired. Wally nodded and sighed, leaning down next to her.
“Does this all the time. I got it,” he said, motioning for Sofia to move back. Sofia simply reached out, gave the door a firm tug, and it came loose. Wally and Charley exchanged surprised glances.
“How did you make that look so easy? I was pulling so hard on that thing and it didn’t budge an inch,” Charley inquired. Sofia didn’t act as though what she did was of any significance, shrugging.
“I… guess it took a little effort, but… I suppose I’m just used to my strength,” she guessed. Wally seemed a bit threatened; he was used to being the strongest of the group, physically speaking. He didn’t appreciate feeling small.
“Your strength? How much can you lift?” Wally asked, clearly not buying that Sofia was stronger. She responded quickly.
“Last I checked, 140,” she said with a small, proud smile. Charley, who had already lost interest in whatever kind of display of dominance was going on, was grabbing the pizza out of the oven.
“140? That… that makes no sense. I can lift, like, 240, and that door takes a good tug to get open for me,” Wally said, confused. Sofia thought for a moment, then realized.
“Oh, right. I meant 140 kilos,” she corrected. Wally’s eyes widened, and Charley almost burst out laughing.
“Charley, I’m going to ignore your suppressed laughter and instead ask you how much that is in pounds,” Wally grumbled. Charley sucked in a breath through his teeth.
“That’s… about 300 pounds, give or take,” he stated gently. Wally’s jaw dropped.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “Did you play sports or anything?”
“I tried to, but… never got in,” Sofia admitted with a forlorn expression.
“How come?” Wally asked, dumbfounded. Sofia faltered a bit.
“They… told me I needed to try out for the boys’ team. That I had an ‘unfair advantage.’ I wasn’t really sure what they meant at the time, because I had just got here and English is my second language. So I tried out for the boys’ team. It was much more difficult, but I beat most of them. They still didn’t let me in.” Wally looked confused, but Charley understood immediately.
“Because they thought you were trans?” he asked gently as he cut up the pizza. Sofia nodded, and Wally’s expression shifted to one of great disappointment and irritation.
“It took me a long time to realize what that even meant when someone finally told me. I was raised in a house where things like that weren’t even discussed. I trained with my brothers; we played together, fought together, and were taught together. Strength wasn’t a manly trait, it was survival. I never understood why being strong made me less of a woman, and I still don’t.” Wally huffed softly.
“It doesn’t,” he insisted as Charley took the pizza out to the table. “You should have gotten on the team. They had no right to treat you that way.” His previous ego wound had seemingly healed, replaced instead with a deep sense of guilt. Almost as though he knew he wouldn’t have been saying the same thing in the past. Sofia gazed at him, nodding softly.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “That means a lot to me.” Wally nodded and put a hand on her shoulder, leading her to the table.
“Of course. Now let’s get something to eat, yeah? 40 years of hitting the same bag must have you starved,” he said, clapping his hands as he sat down. “Oh, hell yeah, all the toppings this time. Big score.” This time, when the conversation stopped, the silence was filled with the rustling of everyone grabbing slices of pizza. Comforting, Sofia decided.
“What was the rest of Charley’s plan?” she asked between bites. The rest of the kids at the table stilled for a second.
“What do you mean…?” Charley asked, confused.
“Wally mentioned something about your ‘plan’ earlier,” Sofia stated carefully. “Part of it was waking me up, right?” Wally nodded, holding up a finger while he swallowed before speaking.
“It was his idea to try to wake you,” he explained. “Rhonda managed to wake up Quinn a couple days ago, so he thought maybe everything that’s been going on recently might be causing things to… shift, I guess.”
“You mean… you used to not be able to,” Sofia asked, though it sounded more like a statement.
“Right,” Charley confirmed. “Things are just… I don’t know. Different. We don’t know if it’s a good thing or not yet. But, the plan… wasn’t really a plan, just an idea. Something to add to the recent events.”
“I see,” Sofia mumbled, taking another bite of pizza. “Maybe we can find out whether different is good or not together.”