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A Death in the Family
Topic Started: Jan 18 2017, 05:48 PM (141 Views)
Primadonna
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👑 THE ICE QUEEN 👑
The day would begin like any other, Primadonna would arise from her slumber to the warm rays of the sun seeping through her sheer curtains; will herself into the bathroom to eradicate her drowsiness with the placement of a warm wet cloth to her face. Unaware that her phone had been silently ringing from her nightstand all night long.

When she'd return to the master bedroom, collecting her satin robe from the door knob to envelope her practically nude body in its warmth silky texture, she'd finally take notice to the astounding toll of missed calls she'd received. Her face was met with concern as this was not a good sign. She swiped the face of it and called the first number she saw; Raoul would pick up the phone after a couple of rings unsure of what her reaction will be to the news.

Her face went solid from the news as she was stricken with grief; it was as if a piece of her heart had been torn out of her chest. She couldn't even find the strength to swallow. Tears rushed to the back of her eyes but did not leak. Nevertheless the news was terrible...simply terrible.

--

After a three and a half hour flight, her plane had finally touched down. Accompanied by her trustful companions, Raoul and Tito, she somehow managed to make it to Alabama - her original hometown - just in time for the funeral; Primadonna was after all, well, a prima donna; and wanted to spend as little time as possible in a town that she'd tried to forget for the last seven plus years.

When they arrived at the church where the funeral was being conducted, dressed in traditional black, she could almost feel the glare of every relative and friend of the family in the perimeter. As they would lean in close to one another exchanging gossip, she would extract certain words from their conversations.

'That's her...'

'Can't believe she hasn't been here to see her Mom in years…'

'She slept with her Step Father...'

'What a whore...'

'Slut...'

'After she got her inheritance she just picked up and left...'

But Primadonna wasn't about to let them see her sweat. She continued to walk toward the altar where the casket resided, with her head held high as she had nothing to be ashamed of. Once there, she'd peer into the open casket to view the dead body of the woman she once called Mother. There were no tears roaring down her rosy cheeks; no fulfilling words to cannon ball off the board of her lips; instead she would turn back around and walk out of the church.

Raoul and his life partner Tito would look at one another for a brief moment, baffled by what is occurring, and then chase after her. The two manage to catch up to her in the parking lot; for big guys they sure can hustle when the time calls for them to.

"Primadonna, wait! You know traditionally when people fly thousands of miles for a funeral, they stay for the whole thing not the first five seconds."

Raoul, who was like an older brother to Primadonna, would always come to her defense -- even if she were in the wrong. He places a silencing hand up in Tito’s direction in attempt to not escalate things and have a legitimate conversation with Primadonna.

"Easy. She’s upset and that’s understandable. I can only imagine how tough this is for you."

Raoul brings his arms open for a hug, but the Diva sidesteps him.

"Quite the contrary. That woman has been dead to me for eleven years; only now I have verification, and it’s currently lying in that casket."

Tito shared in Raoul’s shock of her chilling response; that was in fact so cold it almost left them frozen. He would again attempt to chisel her heart out of its icy prison.

"Primadonna! What happened to you was horrible; in fact no child should ever have to be put through that kind of inhumane torture, but to be this cold to a woman who gave life to you --"

"Don’t!" She says in a stern tone. "I have no desire to talk about this now. Let's just go. I, after all have big things happening for me this week and I do not intend on soiling them all because of a prolonged death that was eleven years in the making. I understand how that may come off 'cold' to you Raoul, but the truth often is. Suck it up and deal with it.. I have."

As Primadonna enters the back of their rented limo, Raoul and Tito's gazes meet once more, unsure how they should handle the situation with a grieving and potentially more aggressive Primadonna. Could it be her way of coping with loss and she just needs time to mourn in her own way? Could she be suffering from guilt and in need of a hug? Or even worse, could she still be angry and not know how to process her feelings in a more positive way? That is after all why she agreed to go into wrestling in the first place, but it appeared to not be working as effective as they thought before. As the two entered the back of the limo and shut the door behind them, Tito had this bizarre feeling that they were being watched.. and they were.. from the shadows stood a strange bald older man with a scruffy beard and a twisted grin on his face; a face they were bound to meet when and where they'd least suspect to.
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