Loaded RP: Rebirth

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< *** >

Setting: Many years earlier.

Trace Demon: Everything is so slow.

I fall backwards onto my bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping me. At seventeen there’s no better feeling that being high as a bloody kite when it’s raining outside and you have a smoking hot, if slightly free living, girl with you.

I’m not saying it’s the responsible way to live; it’s just the fun way. [/color]

Kady Jones: You’re so cute when you’re high.

She rests down next to me, her head nuzzling my neck. I can feel myself smiling, almost like it’s somebody else. I guess I’m not used to it, you know, happiness and all that, at least not in my own house anyway, never have had many happy times here. Maybe it has something to do with having a drunk for a father and a mother who doesn’t do a thing to stop him. [/color]

Kady: What are you thinking about?

Trace: Nothing, nothing but being right here with you.

Dude, you rocked that romanticism. [/color]

Kady: That sounded so gay.

Okay, maybe not. [/color]

Trace: It did not sound gay.

Kady: A little bit gay.

Okay, so maybe it isn’t the most epic romance of the century, and I’m certainly not going to win any awards for great romantic statements, unless they bring in an award for being romantic when high because I’d totally win that, but I’m happy enough.

Before I know what’s happening I’m being straddled, and also suffering the worse case of headrush I’ve ever felt. Kady laughs, her face lighting up in the process. Her blue eyes look endless and her brown hair looks like silk, red and blue highlights and all. From where I lie she looks like a goddess.

Then again, all hot girls look like goddesses when your seventeen years old, but that doesn’t detract from the levity of this epic situation.

Kady lowers her head and I raise mine, our lips connecting in a seemingly never ending kiss, full of red hot passion and teenage angst.

But as I stated, there isn’t usually happiness inside this house of mine, and when there’s a crash downstairs it doesn’t look like now is the time for it to start. [/color]

Kady: What the hell was that?

I glance up at the clock, nearly 11. With mum working the night shift and both of my sisters out at friends houses it can only mean one thing. [/color]

Trace: Dad.

I rush downstairs, all of the walls and doors blending together as I go. At one point I struggle to lift my feet in time and nearly fly down the stairs, only grabbing hold of the side rail just in time. Take heed, while smoking up seems good at the time, there are definitely negative side effects.

I take a sharp right turn as I turn into the kitchen, accidentally cracking my shoulder into the door frame as I walk. I don’t pay any attention to the sudden jolt of pain through my left side, instead focused on the man in front of me. My father, drunk as usual, throwing up in the kitchen sink, staggering around, being his usual bloody drunk self. He looks at me; his eyes half glazed, his body slumped against a wall. I move forward, trying to help him into a seat, only to get shoved backwards. [/color]

Mr. Demon: Boy, what the hell are you doing? You stink of bloody smoke. You been smoking boy?

Kady walks down the stairs behind me, this was the last thing I needed. [/color]

Mr. Demon: Oh look, you got another one of your little sluts over, thought you’d have some fun while I was out did you?

Trace: Dad, your drunk... again.

His fist flies out and catches me in the side of the head. Even when drunk the man can throw a punch. Everything goes white for a minute, my head suddenly feels ready to explode. I’m on the floor, blood dripping from a gash in my head where I must have hit the table. I don’t know what it is, I don’t know why it happens but everything seems to go red when I see my own blood, rage takes over. I look up, breathing heavily. Kady’s gone, jolted at the first sign of violence no doubt.

It always happens like this. He ruins everything that could possibly be good, anything that I could enjoy is turned into ashes and dust by this man who is supposed to be my father. [/color]

Mr. Demon: Not so big now, eh boy.

He’s laughing at me, and I’m done. It’s uncontrollable, suddenly I’m on my feet and my fist is in his skull. He’s on the ground and I’m on top of him, throwing fist upon fist at him, shouting obscenities, unable to stop myself.

I’m back in control, but the damage is done. His face is smashed up, his blood on my hands and all over the floor. He’s breathing, shallowly. It takes a few seconds for it to sink in, for me to realise the damage I’ve caused, but it does sink in. I sink to the ground, hunched against a wall, in shock. I don’t understand what happened, how I could have done all of this. Adrenaline maybe? I just sit there, staring, unable to move.

I sit there for hours, until my mom comes home the following morning, and lets out an almighty scream.

The beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning? [/color]

< *** >

That’s how it all started. When I started blaming everyone else for my mistakes.

I was arrested, done for assault. Judge shortened the sentence because of Kady’s testimony, said it was self defence, which it was. But still, time in a juvenile detention facility doesn’t do wonders for a kid.

It did do me some good, it toughened me up, introduced me to the crap that life can throw at you. But it also broke me, emotionally, mentally, whatever you want to say. When I came out of that place my psyche was fragile to say the least. As I grew up, I became delusional, a compulsive liar you could say.

I convinced people that I was some kind of satan worshipper, that I burnt down a church, that I didn’t know my own past. But it was a lie, a lie I told to everyone else and to myself as well. Eventually I started to believe it, maybe it was because I wanted it to be. Why? Because I didn’t want to admit that whenever anything went wrong it was my fault. I found ways to blame everything on other people.

When the memories started coming back, I turned to alcohol and drugs, I let it ruin my life, let it control me, let it take over. I lost everything, my girlfriend, my sanity, hell, almost lost my job as well.

I’m done with all of that now, I’m done with the self destruction, I’m done with hate and disrespecting people that don’t deserve it. This is a new Trace Demon that’s coming to Loaded. This is a new Trace Demon that will be facing off with Alex Sean & DGX.

Sean’s made himself a thorn in my side for months, DGX isn’t much better, but the tactics that have been used have not been for the benefit of the company, or the benefit of either of us. If you’re just going to go back and forth beating each other up, throwing obstacles in each other’s way then you’ll never get anywhere; you’ll never get anything done.

You’ll never live your life, you’ll be too busy dwelling on things. I’ve been too busy dwelling on Alex Sean. Sean’s a pain in my ass, no doubt, but he’s doing it for his own twisted delusional reasons. I used to have my own twisted delusional reasons for this feud, reasons that make a pretty pathetic list:

Power

Hatred

Revenge

They’re not good enough reasons to waste my life on some guy like Alex Sean, not good enough reasons to go into a match against a team like Alex Sean and DGX. The only reasons to go into this match is the desire to win, the desire to entertain, the desire to prove something to myself and everyone else.

The chance to prove that I deserve to be here.

The chance to live life as it was meant to be lived.

So when I come to Loaded this week, it’s not going to be the Trace Demon that everyone knows, it’s not going to be the Trace Demon that everyone hates, it’s going to be someone new, someone people can respect, someone people can cheer for, someone people can enjoy watching. But most importantly, it’s going to be someone who is done blaming things on others.

It’s time I take responsibility for my actions. I’ve hurt people, I’ve ruined people, I’ve done heinous things in order to survive and become superior. And I didn’t care at all.

This is a Trace Demon who knows what he is doing, this is someone completely new, so get ready Alex Sean, because you’re not going to know how to handle it.

Trace Demon is dead.

Long live Trace Demon. [/color][/center]