| Chrysalis; II, Battlelines Battle Royal | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 12 2016, 01:25 PM (23 Views) | |
| Grace Goeren | May 12 2016, 01:25 PM Post #1 |
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Sickness. Everything hurts. Never getting better. Too far gone. That bitch. That cunt. She tried to take the only thing I have left from me. Forced me to do this. Here. Why are you here? Why come back to this blackness? This thick, mucky, tar where you can still feel their fingers on your skin? Can’t escape it. Except when you did. Why? You came back. Excruciating. Why are you here? She made me. Who? You know. You are not strong enough. Why are you here? Ephesians 4:26 Be angry and yet do not sin. Do not. Do not. Do. I always hated that verse. You used to tell me to repeat that in my head over and over again whenever I was mad at you. That I can be angry on the inside, I just can’t show it on the outside. Especially not to you. Do you remember? I do. I remember everything about this place. Every scream I screamed exist in these walls, buried and unable to be heard. Until now, Mommy dearest. Your baby has come home. Grace is fading in and out of reality. What exists for her in the here and now is barely a shadow, a whisper. She might as well be watching a movie or listening to a song in the car, she is disconnected completely from what is happening to her physical body. A callback tactic to when she would retreat inside her mind to hide from everything that this house did to her. She’s in her mother’s house in the suburbs of Washington DC. Physically anyways. She is fairly certain of that. She remembers showing up on the doorstep about an hour ago after her train rolled in and a taxi driver dropped her off. She remembers a visit from Jada Kaine prompted this. Sinnocence did the most unthinkable, horrific, mean-spirited and devious thing that could possibly be done to Grace at this moment in her life. That bitch inserted doubt into her brain. About everything. About her cause. About her hatred. She had to respond appropriately. Without hate, Grace has no cause. She’s nothing again. Never again. She remembers freezing when she saw the front door of this...place. The place she learned to sickeningly call “home” since she was five years old and the abuse began. She learned to smile when this house leered at her. So many eyes. Like a house fly. A disgusting, disease ridden house fly. Always staring at her and wanting her to give in to the sickness. Did you ever think I would come back? I bet you hoped I would. So you could snare me again. Look at all of this shit you have. How many credit cards did you max out to get it? Did you think I’d bail you out now that I’m famous? I’m a star. A celebrity. I did it all without your help. I think I wanted to come here today and tell you that. Sorry it ended up like this. But you know you deserved it. The blurry mound that lies motionless on the couch in front of Grace very briefly comes into view. She thinks she can make out some blonde hair and clothing, but her world becomes hazy again before she can make it out. She remembers...screaming. Was it hers? Or was it hers? Grace feels faint. She tries to steady herself on leather chair that rests next to the couch, but a feeling of nausea overcomes her. The feeling of that material on her bare skin floods her system and she pulls away, choking back vomit. Who is laughing right now? Is it...me? I’m okay now. Don’t think you’ve gotten to me because you haven't. I’m making sure that you know why I’m here. I don't want you to think I came back because I missed you or because I was scared or directionless. I’m in control of my life for the first time in a long time. Heh. Ha. Hahahaha! You know what’s funny? I hear my father say the same thing these days. I guess we both have different opinions on what “in control” means, huh? This is a terribly one-sided convo, Mom. You should speak up more. Let the world hear your voice. Don’t be shy. Stop being a baby. Let it happen. You’ll enjoy it maybe. I know I never did. No matter how many times you told me I would. Grace looks around the living room, seeing a few scattered remnants of a life long past slowly come into focus. She remembers there being a television set in that corner of the room that she used to gain momentary escape from. You pawned that TV, didn’t you Mom? On my ninth birthday. I remember because you told me I could watch cartoons all day on it. When I woke up, it was gone. Barely got enough money out of it to buy another bottle of Schnapps. Went hungry that night, with a black eye for daring to ask why. Better than most nights though. The world is slowly returning to clarity. She recognizes the dirty, cockroach infested kitchen that is hoarded with shoe boxes and other things that her mother bought online. Barely any food in the cupboards, but plenty of Kindles. She sees the hallway that leads down into her room. She momentarily gives thought to going back in there but stops before she can take one step. That’s not my room. That’s just a place with a bed and a mirror and a closet full of ratty clothes. It doesn’t belong to her. None of this is hers. Let this house take the old Grace. Let it keep her inside that room and hide her from the world in its sweltering cocoon. What emerged was something far stronger. The entire house has returned to its crystal-clear clarity. No longer a dwelling of pain, more like an old hermit crab shell that has just been discarded on the beach. She feels...at ease. Something she has never felt in this house before. She glances back at the couch and sees the same figure resting face down on the cushions, not moving. It’s becoming clearer now and the memories of the last hour have returned to her. She smiles a twisted, devious smile but still shudders at the thought. I’m sorry to have to leave like this again Mommy but...well...it’s time you took your medicine. I don’t hold it against you for not keeping me safe. For treating me the way you did. You didn’t want me in the first place and I was always just an inconvenience to you. He created me, and I was a constant reminder of him to you. That’ why you did all of those things to me. And allowed all of those things to happen to me. You tried to hide behind your Bible and pretend all was right in the world when this house was rotting away from the inside in every way possible. I got out. You didn’t. Guess that means I win? Get used to that. Because Grace Goeren always will win. You are flawed. You are pathetic. You are weak. Not me. Not anymore. Goodbye, mother. Sorry it had to end like this. But its like you told me all along. You deserve it. ********************** I don’t know about the rest of you guys, but I am exhausted. It’s been one hell of a long day and I honestly just want to kick back and relax with a nice cold drink and a good medical encyclopedia so I can learn what muscles tear away from the bone the fastest. You know, typical things we kids do. Get pizza. Go to the movies. Research compound fractures. Have you all been good little boys and girls since we last chatted? I sure do hope so. I’d hate to hear any of you have been naughty and need to be disciplined. Hurdy gurdy hurdy gurdy hurdy gurdy man. You ever hear that song? Some old fucking thing that hippies used to sing when they were dropping acid and fucking in the park. I saw it a movie once. I think. That’s what people used to do, you know. Pretend like they were doing something productive and life-changing when really all they were doing was sitting around and jacking off while the world passed them by. Kinda like you bitches. I’m sorry, that was mean. Kinda like you cunts. Better. See, I’m getting better. Judging from what I know and have heard from most of you, you’re all probably pretty keen to show off your mad skillz and take it to me at Battlelines. Guess I’ve gotten under your skin, like a creepy crawly squirrely girly insect. That’s almost romantic. In a weird way. I just wanted to let all of you know that you can scream and threaten me all you want. I am SO used to that type of behavior from you fuckers it isn’t even funny. I’ve found, so many times in this world, that it's what you do that is important. Not what you scream. So Dredd, threaten to fist fuck me with a barbed wire baseball bat. So Maggie, say you’ll teach me a lesson. So Maya, tell me you’ll shut me up for good. I deserve...naw...fuck that. I deserve the shot at the Network Championship because there is nobody in this match that will devolve further than me to get it. You all have had your moment in the sun. Time to set the clocks back and get medieval, bitches. See ya. Pricks. ********************** Grace’s mother slowly stirs on the couch, her head throbbing like nobody’s business. She lets out a groan and rolls over onto her back, knocking an empty bottle of Jack Daniels onto the floor. She tries to sit up but flops on her back, barely able to move due to last night’s binge drinking session at the local dive bar. GRACE! GET MOMMY AN ASPIR… She remembers. Grace isn’t here. She left all those months ago. Ungrateful bitch. She’ll come back to her. She’ll beg to stay with her again and they’ll cash in together on that EWA contract she signed. It’s weird. She can almost smell her again. Like she was just here. You’ll see. Grace is a good girl. She’ll come back. One day. |
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10:52 AM Jul 11