This is my story for those who will listen: St. Petersburg Russia 2003, I was 17 at the time. I was living in a shared home, with 7 other homeless kids. Everyone was on heroin, wasting away with no school or jobs. Although I never did any hard drugs, I drank excessively and often got in trouble with the law. I was a very thin brown haired girl, 5'6. As the winter died down (although it never really died), so did my appetite for this lifestyle. I didn't feel anything anymore, my friend died in my arms last year of an overdose but I didn't feel anything as she left. Everything was gray, not just the city, but my life.

A couple of the older boys in the house often had mangled faces, something about an underground fist fight match, I didn't pry too much into it. I wondered how someone like me would fare in a situation like that. I wondered how it would feel, whether I dominated the other opponent or was mercilessly knocked around, I think I would enjoy it regardless. I talked to one of the boys and inquired about it, he said he would take me. Friday at 3am we went out, they were both drunk, they told me to drink too, but I refused. We stopped in front of a shoe repair shop and Vasily, the oldest of us (21) cracked the window. As the window opened I was struck with such a pungent stench, my nose couldn't follow all of the scents. Iron, no... blood, beer, sweat. We slipped through the window and in the dark made our way down the stairs. I could hear them already, like a concert I had been to, just yelling and screaming.

We opened the door at the end of the narrow stairs and again, I was almost punched with the intense scent, now tenfold. My ears were overwhelmed by the sounds, a large cage in the middle of an open room, no furniture aside from a couple chairs. 300 people or so gathered around a steel cage, and inside two men fight. Vasily led me through the crowd to the man taking money, I was groped and many things were yelled at me, my ears still ringing I couldn't hear what they were saying. Vasily handed him some rubles and they exchanged some words. Vasily pushed me in front of the man, and he pointed at me and laughed in confusion. "Name?" He said, staring at my chest. "Sofi" I replied. He took me to the line of awaiting fighters. Still, I felt nothing, no fear or anxiety, I was almost excited at the thought of feeling fear. I heard chains and thumping in the cage, but couldn't see anything from here.

I looked out of place among the men in front of me, they were all of a large build and faces busted of the night prior I assumed. Through the cracks between people spectating, I could see another line, our opponents were standing on the other side also awaiting. The man in front of me was playing with his brass knuckles, I then realized all of them had some sort of weapon. "You like them, baby?" he said in Russian with a heavy Chechen accent. I noted the rust on them and wondered if it was from blood, or how often he groomed them. The entire time waiting he pruned them, smiling with missing teeth. The line eventually got shorter, I could now see the other opponents across from us much clearer. Every now and then a roar, a thud, a whistle. The Chechen was next, I could see the cage. I watched him go and stand in the cage, a man with a black baton across him. A whistle, then a blow. The sound of the baton striking him made it sound as if it were of iron.

The Chechen fell fast and his body was dragged out of the ring, he wasn't dead as he was stubbornly flailing at the feet of the man taking him. He still wanted to fight. He was screaming what I can only assume were curse words, some Chechen dialect. I realized it was my turn, I looked across to see who I would be up against. I saw a light illuminating purple, then was grabbed by the man who took Vasily's money earlier. "No guns, no blades, no explosives?" He said quickly, too quick for me to comprehend. He looked me up and down and saw my hands were empty, a maroon tank top and dirty light wash jeans. "Clean!" he yelled, and shoved me in the steel cage. "Two newcomers today..." an announcer yelled, "Sofi!". I heard laughter and guffaws, general shock, some disapproval.

I lunged at him with my fists, but he countered it easily with another swing of his lantern. The metal bar hit my knuckle, I felt my bones break. My fist felt like it was on fire, searing flesh. "WHO WANTS A PIECE OF THE CHAMP?!" he repeated while circling me. I came at him with kicks and weak left handed punches, all of which didn't seem to phase him much. The people who I guess bet on me were yelling in the crowd. I knew it was going to end soon, as soon as he wanted it to. Everyone was just waiting for his final blow, myself included. Maybe it was the concussion, but he seemed to be glowing a slight yellow. I could make out Vasily's voice in the crowd, but couldn't grab the words. Again I lunged at him. he quickly swung his lamp post, shattering what I can only assume was every bone in now my left hand. The pain unbearable, I wanted it to be over. I wanted it to end, it hurt, it hurt a lot. I was frustrated with no chance of approaching, only more pain would come.