Post by gothmother on Dec 7, 2020 6:13:34 GMT -5
HIGH LONESOME [DEAD MOTHERS AND ABSENT FATHERS]
[London, England]
Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things. ~ Unknown
If there was one moment that made her feel like a kid, it was now. Knowing what was in front of her and that there was no way around. There were things that you simply couldn’t prepare for. And you didn’t wanna either. Even though Mark had done mostly everything to prepare this event, it felt as if she hadn’t slept in days. Which wasn't even that far from the truth. There were dark shadows underneath her eyes, that told a tale no one wanted to hear about. Of course the makeup covered it well, but they were still there. All of this still seemed surreal, but it was happening. Looking down at herself in that huge mirror, seeing that black dress- it was really happening.
What if anyone expected her to say something? She hardly had known this woman, which now felt like a heavy mistake. The woman was her mother, but she hardly was part of her life. Like in a dream she did remember Mark asking if there was someone she wanted to invite. Like her biological father or… and that was when the sentence stopped. At least for her. Elena wasn't known for pulling tantrums, but that day a button was pushed. He would never ask again. He knew her better than that- even though they both knew she wanted her brother there. Not Dimitri. The other. But pride was never the best advisor, neither was hurt.
Things change.
The whole morning was awkward. She didn’t feel like she was really part of the scene, more like she watched through a dirty glass window. The way people talked to her without ever saying anything. Or how she asked her husband to stand back with Isabella. He didn’t like the decision but he knew better than to argue with her. That was a battle she had to fight on her own. And a goodbye she never meant to say.
Just like expected there weren’t many people coming to the funeral of Margaret. A few of her working colleagues, the priest and whoever had stuff to do and money to make. She was greeted by some and given their condolences. Like someone else was in charge she shook hands and nodded in a friendly way. Inside her chest her heart was ready to jump out, just to stop feeling. Her hands, although covered in gloves, clenched into fists. Every now and then she painted a picture of attacking people, but she wouldn’t. For once in her life she would be the daughter that Margaret would have wanted. Loving, caring and well behaved.
“Are you ready, Miss DeDraca?”
A voice brought her back to reality, but there were no words left to say. Instead she would nod again and walked after the man of god. It was cold in England at this time of the year, no snow but still cold. Either way the little group of people surrounded the hole where her mothers body would find her last rest. Her eyes were focused on the casket that Mark had picked, very unorthodox- light coloured. Flowers all around the grave and on the small podium they had set up.
For what?
Speeches, you numb nuts. One after the other stepped up there and told their favourite tales about Margaret. How great she was as a friend and coworker. How everyone just had to love her. At a certain point there was no one left but Elena. Weirdly enough she had spoken in front of thousands of people the past 16 years, but nothing seemed ever as hard as this. But feeling the eyes of all the guests burning into her flesh, she got up. The walk up there felt like she was climbing a mountain in high heels. But she made it. The priest would kindly pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.
Somewhere in the back she saw a figure that caught her attention. Skinny and tall. Platinum blonde hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. For just a second she thought it was him, but then shook her head. He had no reason to be here. After coughing several times she would open her mouth. Finding herself out of breath and strangely lost for words.
“Thank you everyone for coming here today, I am sure Margaret would have loved to see that. Probably would love it even more to still be alive, but what can you do? I have listened to all the stories you had to tell about her and I wish i could tell you one just like that. But I can’t. I am not sure how open my mother was about our story, but as a matter of fact I got no story at all.”
The guests seemed slightly confused, just not that one person in the back.
“I didn’t know Margaret the way you knew her, in fact I didn’t know her at all. I was not even 24 hours old when she left me on a bench in Hyde Park. She put me in a little bag and left me there, in the hope that someone would find me. It was winter and it was cold, not so clever. But eventually someone found me and took me down to the orphanage, yeah the horror building a little out of town. I would like to say that this was for the better, but I can’t. And I don’t know. Maybe she was young and didn’t have enough money- but everything would have been better than this hell hole.”
“Ever since Margaret came back into my life she wanted one thing: Forgiveness. She wanted the one thing that I just couldn’t give her. I was willing to listen to her side of the story, but you don’t fix thirty years with just reappearing in someone's life. And she understood. Even though I know it hurt her- she figured out that she couldn’t be part of my life. I wasn't ready and I am still not sure we would have ever reached that point.”
The audience seemed in disbelief, probably ready to throw stones at her. But all this time she focused on that slender figure in the back. The way he didn’t move at all or how little his expression changed.
“All your life you think that there is enough time for everything. That there will always be a tomorrow, but that’s not a given. I am not someone that feels sorry a lot or regrets things, but maybe this is the one thing I will live to regret. The thorn in my sight. I will never get the chance to tell her I forgive her, which I do. Or to let her play with her granddaughter. Or to simply call her mom. I am not over religious, sorry padre, but the truth is I believe there is nothing after we leave this life. And I am right, I hope that my words reach you mom. I am sorry. Sorry I couldn’t have a bigger heart for you. Or the fact that life and my decisions made me who I am today. We will always be strangers, but for a little moment in my life- you were my mother.”
She slowly began to step down from the podium ready to move back to her seat, but she couldn’t. Something did drag Elena away from the scene, something she couldn’t put a finger on. She had just made it to the exit area, finding an empty bench right there. Close to hyperventilating she sat down, holding her stomach. A few tears came down her cheeks, causing her to breath even heavier. In this moment she was even more thankful that no one was here to see her- ugly crying.
It was then when she heard steps that walked right passed her, obviously on the way towards the exit- and the cars. Trying her best to stay silent so the figure would move past her. Failing miserably. The person that caught her eye in the crowd. Even though her view was clouded she now got a better look. Pressing her hand right in front of her mouth. He had almost reached the gate but something made him hesitate.
“I didn’t think you would come.”
OLD HAUNTS [AND FORGOTTEN GHOSTS]
[London, England]
Maybe she was what everyone always thought? A heartless bitch. A merciless fighter. A killer. But maybe the truth was even worse and they had no idea what they were dealing with. That was the thing about the human race, they were always so quick jumping to conclusions. If you showed them one facet of your personality, they would think that this was all one had to offer. Okay, in many cases that was the truth. Some people were just dumb, while others were just cruel- and so on. But Elena DeDraca was neither. Not even in her childhood she was caught doing foolish things, or hunting after naive dreams. Maybe that was the benefit you get when growing up in an orphanage. A reality check.
No time for foolish emotions.
Do you remember the time as a kid when you had the feeling that nothing ever changed? Of course there were new things to explore every day, but whatever surrounded you- it remained the same. Which is nothing more than a trick by nature to give children safety. They wouldn’t pay attention to the small changes happening right in front of their nose. What a loving thought, right? Something that quickly changed when turning into an adult. You had to find your way along with a place in this world. And the truth was, some would never fit. A feeling that Elena knew just too well. Too skinny. Too pale. Too strange. Look at the girl with the scars that rested deeper than her pale skin. But no matter the odds, she kept on walking. Adding another square to her patchwork quilt.
[REC]
For the purpose of telling a good story there was one thing everyone had to do. Return to where it all started. Something the smartest people did avoid because of all the different reasons. Good memories. Bad memories. Overwhelming memories. But maybe to a degree Elena DeDraca was a masochist. Pain was life. Which made it an essential ingredient to a successful life. You either managed to accept it, or let it crush you.
Her heart was skipping a beat or two while standing in front of this monstrous building. The same that usually was the main character of her nightmares. It was hard not to stare and let the atmosphere get the best of you- but not today. Or at least that was what she told herself. Her greenish eyes scanning over the endless garden of the property, spotting a few kids playing outside. Considering the temperature they were all dressed for winter- which caused her to smile. Winter in England was hard to describe. It had nothing magical to say the least. Elena was paying attention to the details, knowing that a lot of things changed. Especially since the fire back then.
You know they still think it was you.
Good. She was well aware who set the building on fire. For just a few seconds she was smiling, allowing herself to drown in a good memory. But like every other time, that didn’t last all too long. She rolled her neck a few times when waiting for the obligatory cracking noise. Turning her back on the building she leaned against the massive metal fence, reason this looked more like a jail than an orphanage. Then again, where is the difference? So many nights she would escape over the previous mentioned fence, causing trouble.
“In life it is all about choices and chances. The ones you take and the ones you miss. There is a balance of good and bad decisions that brought me here. Okay. Maybe more bad ones than the other way around. But, and that is what matters the most, you have to make your peace with it. Not everyone else, but you. The one staring back at you from the mirror, maybe even smiling. Life is for the living, so let’s not dwell on those that have left. Or will leave in the near future. I will not pretend to understand half the people that walk in and out of my life, or the ones I work with. At the end of the day I don’t care enough to pretend though. I am not here to hear about their sad stories, or the dues they have to pay. I don’t worry where their story goes, as it is not my journey. There are plenty of things I could regret when looking back, but I won’t. I have never been the kind to cry myself a river. Whatever I did, I either had to do- or wanted to do. That’s the same rule I have been following my entire life. I don’t stop when I am tired, darling, I stop when I am done. Maybe that is partly self destructive, but in the end this is who I chose to be. No filters. No sugarcoating shit.”
She smiled, mostly towards herself, but it was clearly visible. A light shiver was running down her spine, which wasn't caused by the cold. More by the place that rested behind her.
“And that is why I can’t go on a rant about how great Drago Santiago might be. For one, I don’t know about it. But more importantly, I don’t care. This has nothing to do with disrespect for that matter- I just don’t live to please my opponents. Or anyone else. In reverse, I don’t expect either from them. I know of my worth and what I am capable of- don’t need anyone writing me songs about it. I will go into this match like any other. Like it is the most important one of my career. And if that isn’t giving you respect, I don’t know what else could be. What do I know about Drago? Nothing. There are tales and rumours, but none of them I’ve witnessed myself- or seen proof of. Sure in the century of digital media you can look people up. Damn, I didn’t even know how many matches I had till I found out about that. So for the sake of it I went and checked some of his matches. I didn’t expect too much, and honestly- there were hints of a great talent, but ruined by a weak mindset. He seems like the type that could rule the business, but sabotages himself pretty well. How? I am so glad you ask.”
“Self pity. Of course he wouldn’t say that out loud, but it’s right there. A young man, back then, that gave the business every ounce of himself. Someone that was ready to be a legend for this industry, but something went wrong. I said it before but I don’t mind saying it again, this business owes no one anything. For every time you fail, there will be someone waiting to get the job done. That’s how it works. I’ve been like that myself so it's not me praising from my high horse. I entered this business when I was hardly 14 years old. I was so full of rage and hate for the world and that showed in my matches. They were raw and offensive. Don’t get me wrong though, the rage is still here- it is what keeps me going. But at a certain point I understood that this has nothing to do with greatness. There are enough wannabe bad boys and girls that think they got the system figured out. But Drago, you know nothing. Some will say you are charismatic and follow your trace, but I am not some. I don’t need a leader as I was never made to follow. You can live out all your sadistic fantasies inside that pretty, little head- doesn’t make a difference. I am not your regular girl down the street, I am Elena fucking DeDraca.”
Something was happening behind her which caused her attention to shift. Some of the kids were shouting at each other, obviously having a small fight. It didn’t take longer than a minute before one of the nuns stepped out of the building. The righteous expression on her face made Elena sick to the bones. She was aware what would happen next and the destruction it would cause to those innocent souls. She took a deep breath.
But maybe they changed?
They never do.
“Pain has been my motivator ever since I came into this world. So what do you expect of me when your biggest threat is that you break peoples fingers? Am I supposed to shudder? Or run scared and beg you not to? That wouldn’t be my style, darling. So if that is what gets you off, you might have to skip on to someone else. I am a simple woman. Sure some will say that’s not true, but let’s not focus on gossip. I will go another way, one that might surprise you. I dare you to try your hardest. Hurt me with all you got and I promise you an equally satisfying answer. But I will not stop with your fingers, dear. There are way more interesting things to break. Not sure if you've ever been taught the anatomy of the human body. If not then I will make sure that I am a worthy teacher. Bit by bit I will lead you back to this harsh reality that you try to escape. Sinner or Saint at the end of days we all go to the same place. There is nothing waiting for you at the end of that tunnel, or for anyone else. Not the happiest thought- but I promised I won’t lie to you. I don’t believe in good or bad. Just people making decisions for themselves. And while we both decided to sign with this company- we didn’t pick each other for this match.”
“For better or worse, right? That was what I was thinking when I found out about our stipulation. It was as if management finally paid attention to who I really am. Sure it could be that they wanna blow sugar up your ass, but the outcome is the same. I am not scared of a little blood or putting my body on the line. And considering who you claim to be? Neither are you. I will bleed for you Drago and you will enjoy it. But darling, don’t be foolish- I will cover my pale skin with your blood just as much. Every chance given I will drive you into this unforgiving barb wire. It will be magic, even if just for one night. There are not many things you can compare to the feeling when your skin gets ripped open. If you listen carefully enough you will hear the sound of it. Like the sweetest song you’ve ever heard. You might be a sadistic asshole, bravo for that, but you got no idea how deep my desire rests. I didn’t return to the wrestling circus because I need money, or more titles to pin to my wall- but because of my passion. For the sport, but more importantly my want to hurt people. I like to dominate them and force them over the edge. There is a reason my portfolio on moves is based around submission holds. I like to break people. Easy as that.”
Once more the scene behind her caught her attention. The kids obviously tried to explain the situation, but the nun wouldn’t listen. Instead she began to scream, every second word being god. Three of the four kids nodded and started to walk towards the orphanage. But not this one boy. He was smaller than all of them, but had some sort of rebellious aura surrounding him. His dark hair messy in his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
He looks a lot like him
He wasn't agreeing at all, instead he kicked the nun to the shin- or where he thought it was and began to run. He would run a lot quicker than she could, hiding behind the big trees. An almost proud smile covered Elena’s face as she returned her focus towards the camera.
“You may live to underestimate me, Drago. You wanna be a leader- or maybe society made you one. But this is not a movie where you play the main role. I want you to go all in, or stay the fuck out. At the end of our story you will look up to me, and you will finally understand this business. No more old haunts or forgotten ghosts. And that my friend is the most important lesson.”
“You are welcome.”
[London, England]
Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things. ~ Unknown
If there was one moment that made her feel like a kid, it was now. Knowing what was in front of her and that there was no way around. There were things that you simply couldn’t prepare for. And you didn’t wanna either. Even though Mark had done mostly everything to prepare this event, it felt as if she hadn’t slept in days. Which wasn't even that far from the truth. There were dark shadows underneath her eyes, that told a tale no one wanted to hear about. Of course the makeup covered it well, but they were still there. All of this still seemed surreal, but it was happening. Looking down at herself in that huge mirror, seeing that black dress- it was really happening.
What if anyone expected her to say something? She hardly had known this woman, which now felt like a heavy mistake. The woman was her mother, but she hardly was part of her life. Like in a dream she did remember Mark asking if there was someone she wanted to invite. Like her biological father or… and that was when the sentence stopped. At least for her. Elena wasn't known for pulling tantrums, but that day a button was pushed. He would never ask again. He knew her better than that- even though they both knew she wanted her brother there. Not Dimitri. The other. But pride was never the best advisor, neither was hurt.
Things change.
The whole morning was awkward. She didn’t feel like she was really part of the scene, more like she watched through a dirty glass window. The way people talked to her without ever saying anything. Or how she asked her husband to stand back with Isabella. He didn’t like the decision but he knew better than to argue with her. That was a battle she had to fight on her own. And a goodbye she never meant to say.
Just like expected there weren’t many people coming to the funeral of Margaret. A few of her working colleagues, the priest and whoever had stuff to do and money to make. She was greeted by some and given their condolences. Like someone else was in charge she shook hands and nodded in a friendly way. Inside her chest her heart was ready to jump out, just to stop feeling. Her hands, although covered in gloves, clenched into fists. Every now and then she painted a picture of attacking people, but she wouldn’t. For once in her life she would be the daughter that Margaret would have wanted. Loving, caring and well behaved.
“Are you ready, Miss DeDraca?”
A voice brought her back to reality, but there were no words left to say. Instead she would nod again and walked after the man of god. It was cold in England at this time of the year, no snow but still cold. Either way the little group of people surrounded the hole where her mothers body would find her last rest. Her eyes were focused on the casket that Mark had picked, very unorthodox- light coloured. Flowers all around the grave and on the small podium they had set up.
For what?
Speeches, you numb nuts. One after the other stepped up there and told their favourite tales about Margaret. How great she was as a friend and coworker. How everyone just had to love her. At a certain point there was no one left but Elena. Weirdly enough she had spoken in front of thousands of people the past 16 years, but nothing seemed ever as hard as this. But feeling the eyes of all the guests burning into her flesh, she got up. The walk up there felt like she was climbing a mountain in high heels. But she made it. The priest would kindly pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.
Somewhere in the back she saw a figure that caught her attention. Skinny and tall. Platinum blonde hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. For just a second she thought it was him, but then shook her head. He had no reason to be here. After coughing several times she would open her mouth. Finding herself out of breath and strangely lost for words.
“Thank you everyone for coming here today, I am sure Margaret would have loved to see that. Probably would love it even more to still be alive, but what can you do? I have listened to all the stories you had to tell about her and I wish i could tell you one just like that. But I can’t. I am not sure how open my mother was about our story, but as a matter of fact I got no story at all.”
The guests seemed slightly confused, just not that one person in the back.
“I didn’t know Margaret the way you knew her, in fact I didn’t know her at all. I was not even 24 hours old when she left me on a bench in Hyde Park. She put me in a little bag and left me there, in the hope that someone would find me. It was winter and it was cold, not so clever. But eventually someone found me and took me down to the orphanage, yeah the horror building a little out of town. I would like to say that this was for the better, but I can’t. And I don’t know. Maybe she was young and didn’t have enough money- but everything would have been better than this hell hole.”
“Ever since Margaret came back into my life she wanted one thing: Forgiveness. She wanted the one thing that I just couldn’t give her. I was willing to listen to her side of the story, but you don’t fix thirty years with just reappearing in someone's life. And she understood. Even though I know it hurt her- she figured out that she couldn’t be part of my life. I wasn't ready and I am still not sure we would have ever reached that point.”
The audience seemed in disbelief, probably ready to throw stones at her. But all this time she focused on that slender figure in the back. The way he didn’t move at all or how little his expression changed.
“All your life you think that there is enough time for everything. That there will always be a tomorrow, but that’s not a given. I am not someone that feels sorry a lot or regrets things, but maybe this is the one thing I will live to regret. The thorn in my sight. I will never get the chance to tell her I forgive her, which I do. Or to let her play with her granddaughter. Or to simply call her mom. I am not over religious, sorry padre, but the truth is I believe there is nothing after we leave this life. And I am right, I hope that my words reach you mom. I am sorry. Sorry I couldn’t have a bigger heart for you. Or the fact that life and my decisions made me who I am today. We will always be strangers, but for a little moment in my life- you were my mother.”
She slowly began to step down from the podium ready to move back to her seat, but she couldn’t. Something did drag Elena away from the scene, something she couldn’t put a finger on. She had just made it to the exit area, finding an empty bench right there. Close to hyperventilating she sat down, holding her stomach. A few tears came down her cheeks, causing her to breath even heavier. In this moment she was even more thankful that no one was here to see her- ugly crying.
It was then when she heard steps that walked right passed her, obviously on the way towards the exit- and the cars. Trying her best to stay silent so the figure would move past her. Failing miserably. The person that caught her eye in the crowd. Even though her view was clouded she now got a better look. Pressing her hand right in front of her mouth. He had almost reached the gate but something made him hesitate.
“I didn’t think you would come.”
OLD HAUNTS [AND FORGOTTEN GHOSTS]
[London, England]
Maybe she was what everyone always thought? A heartless bitch. A merciless fighter. A killer. But maybe the truth was even worse and they had no idea what they were dealing with. That was the thing about the human race, they were always so quick jumping to conclusions. If you showed them one facet of your personality, they would think that this was all one had to offer. Okay, in many cases that was the truth. Some people were just dumb, while others were just cruel- and so on. But Elena DeDraca was neither. Not even in her childhood she was caught doing foolish things, or hunting after naive dreams. Maybe that was the benefit you get when growing up in an orphanage. A reality check.
No time for foolish emotions.
Do you remember the time as a kid when you had the feeling that nothing ever changed? Of course there were new things to explore every day, but whatever surrounded you- it remained the same. Which is nothing more than a trick by nature to give children safety. They wouldn’t pay attention to the small changes happening right in front of their nose. What a loving thought, right? Something that quickly changed when turning into an adult. You had to find your way along with a place in this world. And the truth was, some would never fit. A feeling that Elena knew just too well. Too skinny. Too pale. Too strange. Look at the girl with the scars that rested deeper than her pale skin. But no matter the odds, she kept on walking. Adding another square to her patchwork quilt.
[REC]
For the purpose of telling a good story there was one thing everyone had to do. Return to where it all started. Something the smartest people did avoid because of all the different reasons. Good memories. Bad memories. Overwhelming memories. But maybe to a degree Elena DeDraca was a masochist. Pain was life. Which made it an essential ingredient to a successful life. You either managed to accept it, or let it crush you.
Her heart was skipping a beat or two while standing in front of this monstrous building. The same that usually was the main character of her nightmares. It was hard not to stare and let the atmosphere get the best of you- but not today. Or at least that was what she told herself. Her greenish eyes scanning over the endless garden of the property, spotting a few kids playing outside. Considering the temperature they were all dressed for winter- which caused her to smile. Winter in England was hard to describe. It had nothing magical to say the least. Elena was paying attention to the details, knowing that a lot of things changed. Especially since the fire back then.
You know they still think it was you.
Good. She was well aware who set the building on fire. For just a few seconds she was smiling, allowing herself to drown in a good memory. But like every other time, that didn’t last all too long. She rolled her neck a few times when waiting for the obligatory cracking noise. Turning her back on the building she leaned against the massive metal fence, reason this looked more like a jail than an orphanage. Then again, where is the difference? So many nights she would escape over the previous mentioned fence, causing trouble.
“In life it is all about choices and chances. The ones you take and the ones you miss. There is a balance of good and bad decisions that brought me here. Okay. Maybe more bad ones than the other way around. But, and that is what matters the most, you have to make your peace with it. Not everyone else, but you. The one staring back at you from the mirror, maybe even smiling. Life is for the living, so let’s not dwell on those that have left. Or will leave in the near future. I will not pretend to understand half the people that walk in and out of my life, or the ones I work with. At the end of the day I don’t care enough to pretend though. I am not here to hear about their sad stories, or the dues they have to pay. I don’t worry where their story goes, as it is not my journey. There are plenty of things I could regret when looking back, but I won’t. I have never been the kind to cry myself a river. Whatever I did, I either had to do- or wanted to do. That’s the same rule I have been following my entire life. I don’t stop when I am tired, darling, I stop when I am done. Maybe that is partly self destructive, but in the end this is who I chose to be. No filters. No sugarcoating shit.”
She smiled, mostly towards herself, but it was clearly visible. A light shiver was running down her spine, which wasn't caused by the cold. More by the place that rested behind her.
“And that is why I can’t go on a rant about how great Drago Santiago might be. For one, I don’t know about it. But more importantly, I don’t care. This has nothing to do with disrespect for that matter- I just don’t live to please my opponents. Or anyone else. In reverse, I don’t expect either from them. I know of my worth and what I am capable of- don’t need anyone writing me songs about it. I will go into this match like any other. Like it is the most important one of my career. And if that isn’t giving you respect, I don’t know what else could be. What do I know about Drago? Nothing. There are tales and rumours, but none of them I’ve witnessed myself- or seen proof of. Sure in the century of digital media you can look people up. Damn, I didn’t even know how many matches I had till I found out about that. So for the sake of it I went and checked some of his matches. I didn’t expect too much, and honestly- there were hints of a great talent, but ruined by a weak mindset. He seems like the type that could rule the business, but sabotages himself pretty well. How? I am so glad you ask.”
“Self pity. Of course he wouldn’t say that out loud, but it’s right there. A young man, back then, that gave the business every ounce of himself. Someone that was ready to be a legend for this industry, but something went wrong. I said it before but I don’t mind saying it again, this business owes no one anything. For every time you fail, there will be someone waiting to get the job done. That’s how it works. I’ve been like that myself so it's not me praising from my high horse. I entered this business when I was hardly 14 years old. I was so full of rage and hate for the world and that showed in my matches. They were raw and offensive. Don’t get me wrong though, the rage is still here- it is what keeps me going. But at a certain point I understood that this has nothing to do with greatness. There are enough wannabe bad boys and girls that think they got the system figured out. But Drago, you know nothing. Some will say you are charismatic and follow your trace, but I am not some. I don’t need a leader as I was never made to follow. You can live out all your sadistic fantasies inside that pretty, little head- doesn’t make a difference. I am not your regular girl down the street, I am Elena fucking DeDraca.”
Something was happening behind her which caused her attention to shift. Some of the kids were shouting at each other, obviously having a small fight. It didn’t take longer than a minute before one of the nuns stepped out of the building. The righteous expression on her face made Elena sick to the bones. She was aware what would happen next and the destruction it would cause to those innocent souls. She took a deep breath.
But maybe they changed?
They never do.
“Pain has been my motivator ever since I came into this world. So what do you expect of me when your biggest threat is that you break peoples fingers? Am I supposed to shudder? Or run scared and beg you not to? That wouldn’t be my style, darling. So if that is what gets you off, you might have to skip on to someone else. I am a simple woman. Sure some will say that’s not true, but let’s not focus on gossip. I will go another way, one that might surprise you. I dare you to try your hardest. Hurt me with all you got and I promise you an equally satisfying answer. But I will not stop with your fingers, dear. There are way more interesting things to break. Not sure if you've ever been taught the anatomy of the human body. If not then I will make sure that I am a worthy teacher. Bit by bit I will lead you back to this harsh reality that you try to escape. Sinner or Saint at the end of days we all go to the same place. There is nothing waiting for you at the end of that tunnel, or for anyone else. Not the happiest thought- but I promised I won’t lie to you. I don’t believe in good or bad. Just people making decisions for themselves. And while we both decided to sign with this company- we didn’t pick each other for this match.”
“For better or worse, right? That was what I was thinking when I found out about our stipulation. It was as if management finally paid attention to who I really am. Sure it could be that they wanna blow sugar up your ass, but the outcome is the same. I am not scared of a little blood or putting my body on the line. And considering who you claim to be? Neither are you. I will bleed for you Drago and you will enjoy it. But darling, don’t be foolish- I will cover my pale skin with your blood just as much. Every chance given I will drive you into this unforgiving barb wire. It will be magic, even if just for one night. There are not many things you can compare to the feeling when your skin gets ripped open. If you listen carefully enough you will hear the sound of it. Like the sweetest song you’ve ever heard. You might be a sadistic asshole, bravo for that, but you got no idea how deep my desire rests. I didn’t return to the wrestling circus because I need money, or more titles to pin to my wall- but because of my passion. For the sport, but more importantly my want to hurt people. I like to dominate them and force them over the edge. There is a reason my portfolio on moves is based around submission holds. I like to break people. Easy as that.”
Once more the scene behind her caught her attention. The kids obviously tried to explain the situation, but the nun wouldn’t listen. Instead she began to scream, every second word being god. Three of the four kids nodded and started to walk towards the orphanage. But not this one boy. He was smaller than all of them, but had some sort of rebellious aura surrounding him. His dark hair messy in his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
He looks a lot like him
He wasn't agreeing at all, instead he kicked the nun to the shin- or where he thought it was and began to run. He would run a lot quicker than she could, hiding behind the big trees. An almost proud smile covered Elena’s face as she returned her focus towards the camera.
“You may live to underestimate me, Drago. You wanna be a leader- or maybe society made you one. But this is not a movie where you play the main role. I want you to go all in, or stay the fuck out. At the end of our story you will look up to me, and you will finally understand this business. No more old haunts or forgotten ghosts. And that my friend is the most important lesson.”
“You are welcome.”
