Post by femmeicon on Apr 28, 2024 23:49:57 GMT -5
And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get Him to swap our places
I'd be runnin' up that hill.
++The flutter of the moths wings echo inside my skull. With every new blow of Windsor’s brutal attack, they grow louder. The louder her wings reverberate, the more intense the pressure becomes. Oh what a familiar sound. I know this song by heart. Her piercing eyes search my soul and find every little fault. The intensity of her wings is now the equivalence of a tornado siren. I am startled. My eyes open and I am surrounded by blurred faces and faint echoes of voices. Disoriented. The glare of the emergency lights stab my eyes. The shrill siren makes my ear drums ache. Panic. Replaced by dread. She drags me asunder with her violent bloodlust. And suddenly the most deafening silence. No longer in the now. I am drowning. Sinking to the depths in an endless sea of blood. The undertow dragged me further down and writhing my body into tumbles. It twists and bends. My arms flail, desperate to escape the inevitable. I can taste the iron as I inhale and suffocate on the thick blood. Deeper down into the void of the crimson. Death becomes me++
A Few Weeks Later
“I could hardly be surprised. Windsor isn’t the type to bluff. He is vicious and cunning. He has a point to prove and I was going to be used as the example. Fairplay. I was gunning for his throne.”
++There’s a certain flavor of chaos that happens when you mix arrogance and desperation. When you happen to be on the receiving end of that particular type of aggression, it tends to sting a bit more when you come back down to land. You want to be angry and scream it wasn’t fair, but at the same time you can’t help but admire how effortlessly cheap they made you look. An opportunist that shames an opportunist for taking full advantage of a gray area, is a liar. It was the aftermath++
“He didn’t just make an example out of me, he made me feel the awfulness of my own mortality. I know there will be another time and another place to return in kind. I just have to be patient.”
++Queen of deflection. I sat at the bottom edge of the bed, expositing my guts out but had no guts to look him in the eyes as I did said expositing. He towered over me and I could feel his eyes burning a hole through my scalp. He called me on my bullshit++
Eoin: You were three steps behind in your match with The Good Father. He made you look like a washed up hack. You came back too soon. You’re struggling in physical therapy. You’re popping anti-nausea meds and vertigo meds almost hourly. It is okay to admit you made a mistake and stay off the road, stay home and rehab.
Elizabeth: I know my own body, darling. I know my limitations.
Eoin: So you say. What happens in the next match? What happens with the next beating? One botch, one errant landing, then what?
Elizabeth: God damnit, Eoin!
++My head snapped up, looking him dead in the eye. I hated this discussion. I hated the fights they caused. I hated him being reasonable, right and realistic and me not being able to accept it. I hated that every year longer I stayed in the business, the less time I had in it. He backed away a bit and spread his arms, dismayed++
Eoin: What Liz? Which part of my argument upset you the most? You know what the doctors have said. We both do. This was too close for comfort. This discussion needs to happen whether you are ready to or not. If you insist on continuing on this journey, while I will love and support you on every step of the way, we need to speak the reality into existence.
Elizabeth: I just…want to end this grimoire on my own. In my own time. My own way.
Eoin: I know. I understand why. But you need to be honest with yourself. You are working with post concussion syndrome. Which means injury is more likely due to your being impaired. You passed out NUMEROUS times lass. I’m not a prayin’ man but almost considered it with how poor your condition was. I saw things that night, heard things those following nights that I never want to experience again.
Elizabeth: I submit. We will have that particular discussion soon. I know you are right. I know you speak from a place of love and concern. I’m just an indignant rebel that must do everything the most complicated way possible, despite knowing easier methods. We will sit down and plan and discuss. Perhaps you take some solace knowing that the next contestant is some curtain jerker. So light duty work. I think his name is Kyle. Such a bland, generic, lite mayo name. Kid wants to be the future, it’s only fitting I give him a taste of the past.
Eoin: Kyle. Ew. It even sounds gross.
Elizabeth: Well, Kyles are hideous.