Post by outcast on Feb 24, 2021 11:26:49 GMT -6
I sit in my rental car and stare at Nicole’s house through the rain-covered windshield. I watch the yellow tape that surrounds the house flutter in the wind It is still taped off as part of the investigation into her and her family’s death. I can’t believe she is gone. Who would want to do this to her, Nelson, and their girls? F**k, I can’t believe this is real. I keep expecting to wake up in a cold sweat, for this to just all be a dream. But I never wake, then again, I haven’t been sleeping either.
I light another Newport and take a deep inhale. Normally a smoke helps take the edge off my cravings for alcohol, but since getting the news about Nicole it’s been a hard edge nothing can take off. I exhale slowly out of the cracked window and turn the radio up.
Things not what they used to be
Missing one inside of me
Deathly loss, this can't be real
I cannot stand this hell I feel
Emptiness is filling me
Missing one inside of me
Deathly loss, this can't be real
I cannot stand this hell I feel
Emptiness is filling me
My mind wonders as the music carries it back to memories of long ago. It carries me back home to Chicago, and to a much happier time. 1998, I was in the prime of my life, or at least I thought I was. Twenty-three years old, just signed a contract for the first time with GCWA and had moved back to Chicago from Tijuana. I thought I was the f**king man, but I was still a dumbass kid. And like a dumbass kid, I was out flaunting my money and wasting it at a bar.
A bachelorette party rolled into the bar, and my clinger-on's, that I thought were my friends thought the group of young ladies would be the perfect prey to score an easy lay. “Weddings make girls horny,” someone in the group said. I ordered them a bottle of champagne and after it was delivered, we swooped in. As soon as we got to their table my eyes locked on Nicole, she was one of the bridesmaids.
I tried to make a hasty retreat, but as I took one step after turning, I heard her sweet voice say in an unsweet tone “Christian Cain, is that you?”. I froze, I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t know what to do. I did know two things though, I had been spotted, and two, as soon as I heard her voice, I was instantly infatuated.
I slowly turned and faced her with a smile. I was quite confident in myself at this time in life. Long blonde hair, tan, a beautiful smile, and the most muscle I had ever carried, and all of that amounted to jack-shit to her. As soon as I face her, she slapped me across the face. I deserved it, and I didn’t react, I just stood there and let her unload on me.
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE F**KING DEAD!” she shouted before slapping me again.
You just disappeared into thin air and no one sees or hears from you for six years. We thought your dad killed you too.
The comment did draw a reaction from me. My eyes dropped to the floor first, followed by my head.
I’m sorry, I… I was scared I thought you were dead. Everyone thought you were dead. There were searches for your body, I was at every single one. Where… where the hell have you been?
“Mexico”, I say without looking up. By this time, I could feel the eyes of the bachelorette party, my crew, and the entire bar on Nicole and me. She didn’t care though; this pressure had built up in her for six years and she was turning the relief valve wide open.
Why did you go to Mexico?
I didn’t respond, I couldn’t even look her in the eye.
What the hell happened to you?
Again, I don’t answer her, I couldn’t even look at her. But she wasn’t going to accept me just shutting down, she never had before, and she never did.
Christian…look at me, I deserve to know what happened to you.
“You’re right”, I say as I raise my head.
Can we go outside, or somewhere more private?
To my surprise, she agreed and followed me to a balcony. As we stood there, I confessed all to her and bared my soul.
I left because I was afraid. Afraid that what my Dad did would somehow fall down onto me. Afraid I’d get the blame for my mothers’ death. Afraid they’d stick me in some home. Afraid he’d somehow get off and I’d be stuck with just me and him living together. Afraid of facing everyone as the kid whose father killed his mother. Afraid… afraid of looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but pity and sorrow.
I see her holding back tears, and her body trembling slightly.
Christian, look me in the eye. I don’t pity you, I never have and I never will. I loved and admired you.
Admired me?
Yes. Christian, you have gone through more in life already than most people will in a whole lifetime. No matter what happened you always kept going, you never gave up, you are unbreakable. I’ve never seen someone as strong as you in my entire life. Christian… I loved you, and honestly, I still do.
I love you too. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I never will.
She threw her arms around my waist and pulled herself tight against me in a hug. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her even tighter against my chest.
Unbreakable, I haven’t been that in quite some time, mentally at least, physically is a different story, but mentally I’m in pieces. I’ve been shaken to my core by Nicole’s death. My head is spinning and I feel completely lost. I just keep thinking about how after Victor's death Nicole would keep busy with a seemingly menial task. I accused her of not caring that he died, but it was because she had to press on to keep her mind, heart, and soul from breaking down.
I must follow her example; I must forge on. I must harden my heart and soul. I cannot be broken.
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Xavier, don't think I'm forgetting about you. Your name may be the last out of my mouth, but I certainly don't consider you the least. But, while you may not be the least, you certainly don’t stand out to me. Sh*t, got you confused with your partner, I thought you were the hall of famer, but it turns out you the clinger-on. You’re the one who relies on someone else to do the heavy lifting. You need help, and you need someone to save your sorry ass from time to time, and that is why I don't think you are ready for this match, and I know you aren't ready for me. Here lately you've been beefing with spacemen and backyarders, so sorry if I don't think you can step into the ring with the crème de la crème of the GCWA.
Am I saying you are the drizzling shits? No, not in the least, but I am saying that Friday night you will be out of your element. When things get bad, when you are out of breath and hurting, there will be no one to tag out to. You aren't in there with some lunatics who think they are from space or some masked burrito slingers, no you are going to be in there with the best of the best. So I have to ask, in what world do you really think you can win this match?
Did Paco convince you that you could? Are you really listening to an old drunk? Because trust me, I'm an old drunk, and we give terrible advice. Advice that gets people killed. Now, I don't think you are going to die Friday, but your career certainly could.
I know you’ve got a few big wins under your belt, but who have you really beat of note? Better yet, who have you beat by yourself? Big Bifford, that’s about it, and while Biff is an all-time legend here in GCWA, no one would say that he is at his prime. You know who is at their prime though? Me. Yeah, not many people hit their prime at forty-five, but like a forty-five, I’ll push your wig back farther than Tyra Banks hairline.
I may not think you are the most deserving to be in this match Xavier, but you are more deserving than Betsy Grainger. A lot of people never get a shot at a world championship, let alone two. Betsy falls ass-backward into them. The question I have though, is how many shots can you fire at the top before a return round puts you out for good?
The next question is for Xavier, Betsy, and Shawn. Have you ever heard the saying that when you hit rock bottom you have nowhere else left to go but up? Well, I can't sink much f**king lower. So that means there is nowhere left to go but up, right? This isn't about just climbing the GCWA mountain that everyone has been talking about lately, not for me anyway. No, it is much more. It's about climbing out of a pit. Climbing out of the bowels of hell itself. The thing is, it isn't just another challenger that is coming out of the bowels and heading up that mountain, f**k no, it's the devil himself.
A lot of you around here nowadays didn't know me back in the day. Shit, most of you were busy playing your PlayStation and watching Lizzie McGuire when I had my first run here. So, for those of you who have forgotten, or those that never even knew about me, make sure you all pay attention Friday night because soon enough you all will have no choice but to sit up and take notice of just who I am, and what I am capable of. I've tried to change, and I've tried to be a better person, but the world just won't let that happen.
The world just keeps shoveling shit on top of me, and it's done f**ked around turned me back into the old me. I thought if I turned over a new leaf, tried to be a better person, and do what is right, that maybe, just maybe there would be some sort of cosmic justice and karma would be kind to me, but no. I just keep getting shit on. So, if you think what I've been doing since my return is a little too violent, a little too rude, and a little too over the line... well, you haven’t seen shit yet.
Only this time...I’m going to do it all sober.
Which makes me even more dangerous. Because the truth is I'd love a f**king drink, and there is only one thing besides the whiskey to quench my thirst, and that is blood. I don't care if it's Shawn's, Betsy's, or Xavier, shit, honestly, I'd like it to be all three of them, but I promise there will be blood in the isles of the GCWA Arena.
I've had a lot on my mind over the past few days and going into Inferno that isn't going to change. What will change though, are the thoughts that are on my mind. Thoughts of revenge on Legacy. Thoughts of glory when I grab that opportunity. The thought of how beautiful the sight will be when I stand tall after grabbing that opportunity and look down at the broken and bloody bodies of Shawn, Betsy, and Xavier. What a glorious sight that will be, almost as glorious as the sight of me with that GCWA championship around my waist will soon be.
Or…
Is this just all the ramblings of an old man? Because that is all anyone apparently sees me as, an old man. When did forty-five become so old? Everyone talks about me like Moses signed my yearbook or some shit. Well, just remember when you all wake up Saturday morning and you look in the mirror and see your bruised face starring back at you, and you feel the bruises on your ego that sting even deeper, that an old, over the hill, f**k did that to you. The same old man who will be the next GCWA World champion.