Midget's POV.
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My name is Midget Michaud.

Boxing is my favourite sport. I have been doing this since I was three. My father was a boxer but retired when he was permanently injured from his match. I took over and I am a badass, I fight until I see blood on someone. That's one thing about me. I have black blood in my veins, many thinks I am unattractive because I take no shit from anyone.

I don't really look for trouble, trouble looks for me. Everyone in my town knows about me, and screw those who don't because they think I could play touch with them whenever they raised their fist on me. I am water and fire, an enemy to myself.

With my haversack slung on my right shoulder, my hair tight in a ponytail, my face oily, and with my fitting clothes. No man takes a second glance at me, who gives a damn about it though? I ain't interested in getting one interesting man. I once dated but never tried to again because of what that man thought he would get from me blah blah... You don't really need to know who I am in a chapter.

I proudly walked upom the township streets with my head high and a scowl on my face. Pissed off because.... I don't know why I am angry really, that just me been moody. 

"Hey Midget!"

I looked at Jose Waynesboro, the dude about a year older than me. He wasn't quiet my friend but he became one since I showed him my fist on his face.

"Hey Jose, I am not really in the mood." I said, walking past him.

"Looking for whom to devour?"

I smirked,...