Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2012 18:32:34 GMT -5
"Tête-à-Tête"
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I'm a champion. I mean I've always been a champion, but now once again I am a recognised champion. Recognised by the masses as their representative and hated by those who only want to see me fail. Failure is not a word that comes easily to these lips of mine. I am a born winner and it has taken me only two hops, two skips and a jump to cement my return to the WFWF as one not to be ignored. In 5 matches I secured a belt, albeit the International Title but that's nothing to be sneered at I suppose. I have held this belt before and I plan to hold it now for as long as I see fit. The only thing keeping me from losing is the current climate of the Heavyweight Title. Once the game is good I will drop everything and push for the top prize, the prize which has ultimately been waiting for me ever since I vacated it all those years ago.
The stepping stone seems a little agitated though I must say. Poor old 'T. Dizzle' has a bee in his bonnet about falling at the final hurdle. He shouldn't take it so hard though, everyone will fall to me eventually, I only hope as each tree is felled his temperament weakens. Everyone loves that cheeky little smile of his and I'd feel bad if I'd robbed the world of it. He's surprisingly bonny for a Demon.
His gripes are not at the forefront of my mind though. It is not his voice that disconcerts me. As per usual my victories are peppered with pathetic cries. The underlying smell of the pessimists hangs in my nose and makes my skin sticky. As I silence the whispers with my actions they choose to continue, switching subject, dodging reason.
"The New Epoch is crumbling!"
"The New Epoch is over before it even began!"
A thought for your own blasphemy wouldn't go astray. Celebrate because you are in part correct, but save your energy because you will need it as The New Epoch, like you say, hasn't even started. The age of the titans is on the horizon, this blip is merely the calm before the storm.
As for those that continue to doubt my position in proceedings I challenge you now to utter a word to my face. They talk sh*t about how Michael is the 'leader', how I continue to remain a simple pawn in his game? Ignorance blinds you insects, do you not do your research? We are best friends, we are brothers, we are equals. The fact that he has stepped into the main event with such ease is testament to his reputation but know that had I returned first out of the two of us it would be Michael doing as I do, waiting at the side lines, waiting graciously for an opportunity. Friends don't tread on each others toes, you would all do well to remember that.
F*cking peasants.
No honour.
The stepping stone seems a little agitated though I must say. Poor old 'T. Dizzle' has a bee in his bonnet about falling at the final hurdle. He shouldn't take it so hard though, everyone will fall to me eventually, I only hope as each tree is felled his temperament weakens. Everyone loves that cheeky little smile of his and I'd feel bad if I'd robbed the world of it. He's surprisingly bonny for a Demon.
His gripes are not at the forefront of my mind though. It is not his voice that disconcerts me. As per usual my victories are peppered with pathetic cries. The underlying smell of the pessimists hangs in my nose and makes my skin sticky. As I silence the whispers with my actions they choose to continue, switching subject, dodging reason.
"The New Epoch is crumbling!"
"The New Epoch is over before it even began!"
A thought for your own blasphemy wouldn't go astray. Celebrate because you are in part correct, but save your energy because you will need it as The New Epoch, like you say, hasn't even started. The age of the titans is on the horizon, this blip is merely the calm before the storm.
As for those that continue to doubt my position in proceedings I challenge you now to utter a word to my face. They talk sh*t about how Michael is the 'leader', how I continue to remain a simple pawn in his game? Ignorance blinds you insects, do you not do your research? We are best friends, we are brothers, we are equals. The fact that he has stepped into the main event with such ease is testament to his reputation but know that had I returned first out of the two of us it would be Michael doing as I do, waiting at the side lines, waiting graciously for an opportunity. Friends don't tread on each others toes, you would all do well to remember that.
F*cking peasants.
No honour.
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Wednesday 4th April 2012
- 15:46 -
Man alive I'm so bored. I've got no weed to smoke, no drinks to drink and no company to entertain. I'm alone in my apartment, sat on the sofa in a dressing gown, gazing around, just willing something extraordinary to happen. Someone told me, somewhere along the line, that only boring people get bored, but f*ck them I'm as exciting as they come. It's not my fault I've half sedated myself with prescription drugs leaving my mind drawing blanks at every turn. I mean it sort of is my fault in that it was entirely my own doing, but I'm not one to point the finger, especially at myself.
I scratch my balls and get a little aroused, maybe I should just have a marathon wank? Not a bad idea….
*Buzzzzzz*
The intercom.
I jump to my feet and race across the room like an excited child, some kind of entertainment is about to enter my world. I pick up the phone and puffing my chest bellow:
Drakz - "Father's For Justice head office, Michael Kyzer speaking."
? - "Hello? I'm outside."
Drakz - "Evidently. I wouldn't be talking to you otherwise."
I don't recognise the voice immediately.
Drakz - "Who is I?"
? - "Clearland. It's Sam Clearland. You invited me back to continue the article on you."
Did I? Wow I must have been out of it when we spoke, I've got no recollection of calling this young lad back into the fold. Oh well playing the emperor for an hour or two could be fun. There's nothing like a bit of cat and mouse to pass the time.
Drakz - "Get the f*ck up here then. Double time."
I push the button that releases the door for him at the bottom of the stairs and await his arrival.
There's not enough paraphernalia lying around. He might get the impression I'm just another, everyday, John Smith if I'm not careful. Got to keep him trembling with his balls up his ass, not swinging in the breeze.
I race around checking all of the cupboards for anything that could aid my plight but the emptiness of each is testament to my failure to leave the flat in the last 48 hours. Opening the fridge I spot a slab of butter. To hell with it, this will freak him out. I grab the block and slap it on my bare chest, drawing onto myself with the greasy residue.
*Knock Knock*
Realising he's outside the apartment door I sit back on the sofa and call him inside.
Drakz - "It's open."
As the door opens I launch the rest of the butter log at the wall above the door frame causing a thud and explosion that has Clearland running for cover before he's even two steps inside the room. Excellent.
He emerges from behind the counter, adjusting his glasses, a little red in the face knowing I just watched him squeal and dive in fear of churned milk.
Drakz - "Welcome back to the Pleasure-dome."
Sam Clearland - "I thought you had forgotten all about the interview to be honest, it's been a while since we last met."
He walks over and takes a seat on the opposing sofa, places his briefcase on his knee, pops the locks and opens it concealing his face.
Sam Clearland - "You know I thought you had decided to pull the plug on the article. When I received the call from you I was surprised to say the least."
I called him? Wow.
Sam Clearland - "We've got a lot of stuff to go over now though, what with the gap between our meetings. A lot has changed since we last met."
I got a lot more buttery.
Drakz - "So where have you had your head buried in the down time?"
Sam Clearland - "Well, I started drafting out another article seeing as this one seemed to be dead in the water. I've got to pay the rent whatever ha…."
He has closed his briefcase and has now seen the chunks of buttery goodness decorating my torso. To say his face is a picture would be selling it short. The mystery that is Drakz continues.
Sam Clearland - "Erm………Is that……Butter?"
Drakz - "Yeah. It's just something I do."
He looks set to leave already. This was easier than I thought.
Sam Clearland - "I can come back at another time if I've interrupted something here?"
I smile ever so sweetly.
Drakz - "Not at all."
He clears his throat and averts his eyes, staring at the bunch of papers he has in his hands. Hold on for dear life boy, things aren't going to get any easier.
Sam Clearland - "So……."
He clears his throat again, harder this time. He's having a real tough time getting it together.
Sam Clearland - "So…..I guess we should start at the beginning. You were entered into the International Title tourney very suddenly, and were pitted against a woman who you might say was a little under prepared?"
Drakz - "Please do we have to cover all of this? I've been over this subject enough times with other people. I was put into the tournament to spice things up, the only remaining spot was against Kylie Olsen and I of course took the opportunity. Granted her sudden alliance with Michael raised a few eyebrows but honestly I think we're all adult enough to realise that whatever choice she had made I would have eaten her alive in the ring that night. Round 2, my rematch with David. Can we talk about that? It's far more interesting."
Looking a little flustered and sporting his trademark sweat patches Clearland tries to keep the ball rolling.
Sam Clearland - "Ok let's try that instead then."
Drakz - "I beat him, again. We're still god friends. Next."
Keeping him on his toes.
Sam Clearland - "I thought you wanted to talk about that?"
Drakz - "Only more than I wanted to talk about the previous match. Again I've spilled my guts regarding said situation countless times. The fact you're late to the dinner table means you don't get a full portion Mr. Clearland. Round 3, the grand finale."
Sam Clearland - "Trace Demon?"
Drakz - "Waste Demon. He stood less of a chance than Kylie did, I only wish he'd curl up and die the same way she did. At least the girl had some decency. Trace is really dragging our affair out much longer than I would like. Did you happen to hear the words I had for him on the last show?"
Sam Clearland - "I did. You seemed to be making excuses."
I reel back a little, raised eyebrows, mouth slightly ajar. Did he just say that?
Drakz - "For a man as nervous as yourself that was a very ballsy statement."
I smear my hand across my chest, my hairy, dairy chest. Attempting to maintain eye contact and not lose his bottle Clearland continues on the offensive.
Sam Clearland - "Do you have an answer to it?"
Ooooh he's really going in on me here. I scoop a few chunks of butter from my skin and flick them toward him, a tiny fleck connecting with the lens of his glasses. He wants to wipe it away, I know he does, yet he maintains eye contact with me. His bottom lip starts to waver, with anger? Or is he about to break down? He manages to hold firm though and I feel that alone deserves a reply of some kind.
Drakz - "What reason do I have to avoid him? I've already beaten him twice, once one on one, and prior to that in a tag match with Hutton at his side. Don't you think that nicely brings us around to the subject of my current match?"
He wasn't satisfied with that and I can tell he's writing down something about me avoiding Trace Demon as oppose to what I actually said. F*ck him, let him write what he wants. It won't matter in the long run.
Sam Clearland - "Ok then, you're upcoming match with Hutton Brown then. Did you know it's the 100th match of his professional career and do you feel that adds to the momentum he already gained from putting down Trace Demon on his return last week?"
It seems absence hasn't made the heart grow fonder, this little journo seems to have it in for me right now.
Drakz - "First of all I want to make it known that I find it astonishing he remembers how many matches he has wrestled in, especially when the vast majority of them are in no name feds, and yes I have done a little research into his 100 matches. Who gives a sh*t if he lost to 'Johnny Valentine' or beat 'Johnny Valentine'? Whoever the f*ck 'Johnny Valentine' is. I see he was XWA Heavyweight Champion at one point, but I guess that simply cements what I've always said about that company, it's a complete joke. Before you jump with both feet down my neck I am well aware Brown is also in line for a shot at our own Heavyweight Championship, and like wise if he is to win that I will denounce any belief I have ever held in this company's superiority as well. As for his beating Trace Demon I thought I already told you I've beaten him twice?"
Stick that in your proverbial pipe and smoke it, not that you would you straight edge, p*ssy whipped son of a clown.
Sam Clearland - "An interesting statement but I guess it's entirely subjective. Hutton Brown is a proven warrior both inside and outside of the WFWF, wether you choose to acknowledge his former associations or not."
I choose to not.
Sam Clearland - "For instance he beat Phillip Schneider at Superbrawl, something even your friend Michael Kyzer couldn't achieve."
Drakz - "Come on now. You just brought up two names in one sentence and neither of them were mine. Can we please steer proceedings back toward your sovereign?"
Punk. He's not here to ask me about every other wrestler under the sun, he's here to talk about me. No wonder he hasn't had his 'big break' yet.
Sam Clearland - "Ok then, back to Hutton instead, what's your opinion on his surprise return at the Pay Per View?"
I thought I said me? He's getting into his stride now, reeling off questions at will. This is actually becoming quite fun for different reasons altogether.
Drakz - "It was a b*tch move to be honest. As much as I don't like Obo…"
Sam Clearland - "Phillip Schneider…"
Drakz - "Obo…..he had still endured a hell of a battle and was attacked from behind. While I'm not saying I'm completely clear of cowardly……no that's not a nice word…..exploitive behaviour, I'd like to think I wouldn't sink as low as that. If you've got a score to settle and you're that confident in your abilities then take it head on. If you want an analogy, why cum in a girl's hair when her mouth's wide open?"
Clearland shakes his head in disgust.
Sam Clearland - "I'm not even sure that analogy fits the situation in question."
Drakz - "What I'm saying is I think Brown is a loser. I don't respect him. I don't feel he's done enough to get to where he is. I don't think he's ready for what he's being offered and I especially don't think he's ready to step in the ring with the likes of myself."
Sam Clearland - "You consider yourself a greater challenge than the man who holds the highest accolade in the company?"
Drakz - "Do you need to ask that?"
I think he's expecting me to expand, but honestly I can't be bothered. Obo has already been mentioned too many times in this interview for my liking.
Sam Clearland - "I guess not."
Drakz - "Let me ask you a question Samuel."
He didn't like being called that. His mouth twitched a little. Perhaps only his Mother calls him by his full name?
Drakz - "What's the tone of this article? I'm starting to get the feeling perhaps you don't have the best of intentions anymore? Have I sullied any chance of praise because I didn't call back quick enough? This isn't a date and I'm not going to f*ck you…….."
And smile for the cameras.
Drakz - "Not without more butter on hand. I wouldn't want to hurt you, you're such a tender little flower."
His brow crumples, he's starting to get really uncomfortable. I don't think he was meant to go quite as strongly on the attack as he did. Now he's revealed himself to the enemy and his back's to the wall.
Drakz - "You wouldn't be starting a smear campaign would you? Who's paying you? Brown? Trace? Raider?"
The jaws are closing little lamb, you better make a decision. Fight or flight?
Drakz - "Answer boy, answer!"
I stand up, towering over his seated frame, blocking the light with my head and engulfing him in my shadow. I truly am a master of my art.
Sam Clearland - "No one is paying me! I've said this before, I'm doing this for your benefit."
Drakz - "What do I possibly stand to gain from a bottom feeder's lacklustre writing? I'm the f*cking champion. I'm unbeaten. I'm part of the most dominant force in the wrestling business……"
Clearland cuts me off. I might actually have to castrate him.
Sam Clearland - "Really? I was sure both of your partners lost their last matches?"
I'm not nearly as riled up as I'm making out, it's of course all theatrics. Had I not doped myself up before he arrived I would probably throw him out of the window right now though. Luckily my blood sugar levels are so off kilter that I can actually see that's a bad idea. Instead I step toward him, his face at my crotch level. Then another step, and another, until I'm practically in his mouth. I continue the interview from this awkward position.
Drakz - "Losses I am sure to avenge in the coming months. I assume you are aware of my scheduled opponent at the forthcoming Pay Per View? It pleases me that I finally have a worthy opponent to look forward to."
Surprisingly Clearland continues to talk even with my semi cloaked gonads inches from his face.
Sam Clearland - "Drake Elias?"
Drakz - "Avatar!"
He even has a great pseudonym, unlike 'The Straight-up Destroyer' which sounds like it was dreamt up during a frat-party. Let's all bump chests and crush cans of weak American lager on our heads.
Sam Clearland - "He looks to be quite the competitor."
Drakz - "I know, it's exciting isn't it? Someone might actually take me to my limit, it's genuinely been years since I've felt truly tested in the ring. I've had some good matches recently with David but there was enough of an understanding between us to know it was never going to get out of hand. This Hungarian doesn't know me and equally I don't know him and that intrigues me. I have so little material I can research from, yet he is no laughable new comer. It's giving me goosebumps just thinking about it."
Sam Clearland - "Do you think he has a chance of beating you and taking the title?"
Drakz - "I genuinely don't know. Like I said I haven't got a lot to go off. I can't judge how he will fair if he's dragged into a war. So far he's crushed all of his opposition, which don't get me wrong has been very impressive based on his sheer aggression and precision, but he hasn't gone the distance. He hasn't lasted 45 minutes, or had to rise up when he's been beaten down. There are a lot of hurdles in this game that a man can only understand when he is faced with them in the heat of the moment. I'm just as interested to see how much he can overcome as I am in seeing if I can fell the giant."
I finally back up and sit back down on the sofa, locking eyes with Clearland once again.
Drakz - "Any more holes you want to poke around in?"
He breaks eye contact and looks back to his papers, seemingly pretending to check for any further questions.
Sam Clearland - "Just one. In 3 meetings now we still haven't touched on any of what happened in your period of absence, why are you so eager to avoid talking about it?"
He always has to push too far.
Drakz - "What makes you think you deserve to know? What makes you think I want that period of my life plastered across a double page spread in a magazine? Can you not for once be happy with what you've already got. Once again Mr Clearland the rapture is here and the horns are calling for your departure."
As he previously stated this is our third meeting and this is the third time I've cut proceedings short due to his attempts at digging too deep for his own good. He knows not to argue by this stage and within a minute I am shutting the door behind him. As it closes I slump against it and exhale deeply. What is the fascination with those years? That time is all off the record and I'd rather it stayed that way.
*Ring Ring*
What would have been greeted an hour ago as a welcome sound now seems like an intrusion. The phone rings…………..and rings…………….and rings. I do nothing but stare at it waiting for the caller to give up but still it rings. No voicemail means it will continue to do so indefinitely unless I act. I lift the receiver.
Drakz - "Hello?"
…………………………………
*Click*
Hmmm they hung up. My options are they got the wrong number, they bottled it at the last minute or they just wanted to know I was alive in here. Christ I can't let my imagination run wild or I'm really done. Ok, it might be paranoia but just to be safe I'm going to close the curtains. Is this insane?
My stomach roars.
I need to eat. All I've got is butter though and that's spattered across my wall. Sh*t I might actually have to leave the flat.
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Saturday 24th September 2011
- 13:05 -
Nothing good can ever come of a situation in which hospital corridors start to become recognisable. The first time you navigate them, each one looks the same, each one could easily be mistaken for another, but this is the third time I've walked these halls now and I'm starting to get a sense of direction. Every set of double doors is slightly different, every tiled floor is chipped in irregular places and every corner has it's own smell.
I'm as jittery as usual in this place, never knowing if I'll make it out alive or free of handcuffs. This is the big one though, this is the real deal. I'm actually going to attempt to communicate with the hollow bag of leather that gave birth to me. Margaret Cray is finally getting what she asked for…….her son.
The last set of doors open and I immediately notice she has been moved beds. Christ, you don't think I actually killed her off with those pills do you? I look around for a doctor, following the wall of the ward round, turning sharply 90 degrees on seeing the poor doctor I berated last time. A mere case of mistaken identity, however I'm sure she wouldn't see it that way. I spy another white coat, an African-American male this time, and make a beeline for him. He smiles as I approach.
Anonymous Male Doctor - "Hello sir, how can I help?"
Nice guy.
Drakz - "I'm looking for Margaret Cray? I was told I would find her on this ward?"
Great cover up of my previous visits.
Anonymous Male Doctor - "Ahhh of course, we had to move her away from the doors after she attempted to escape last night."
Drakz - "Escape?"
Anonymous Male Doctor - "Well, she doesn't have the strength to walk. She took a nasty fall out of bed though and tried to crawl out. We're not holding her prisoner or anything but she is in no state to be anywhere but this hospital right now."
Drakz - "That's terrible. Why would she want to escape?"
Layer it on with a trowel.
Anonymous Male Doctor - "We're not sure but she's been having nightmares and attempted suicide only a number of days ago."
Drakz - "Excuse me? How does a woman who can barely stand attempt to take her own life?"
Anonymous Male Doctor - "Again it's a mystery but somehow she got her hands on a lethal amount of Doxepin. We think she must have gotten it from some of the other patients."
Drakz - "That seems a little questionable to me."
Anonymous Male Doctor - "Honestly it does to me as well, there is an investigation being carried out into the matter though. I hope they find out what happened, because for a woman in such a fragile state to be able to get hold of such a quantity of drugs is very troubling and shows there is a flaw in the system somewhere."
Drakz - "Isn't it possible a member of staff gave her them?"
I attempt to sound genuinely concerned.
Anonymous Male Doctor - "My only thought is she keeps saying she demands to see Doctor Phillips, that Phillips has her medicine, but there are no doctors by that name on this wing of the hospital."
What?!
Anonymous Male Doctor - "It's bizarre. We thought we had cracked where the medication came from when she started talking about this doctor but the only Phillips that works in the whole of this establishment has been on maternity leave for longer than Miss Cray has been with us."
No Dr. Phillips? I know my head is f*cked but I guarantee I didn't imagine this whole thing. Did I?
F*ck!
No I can't have done, Michael saw the letter and heard the phone calls. I'm not delusional. I can't be. Too much has happened for her not to exist.
Play it cool………for now.
Drakz - "So where is Miss Cray now?"
Anonymous Male Doctor - "I'm sorry, this may seem rude of me but who are you? I didn't catch your name."
Drakz - "Isaac Cray………….Her son."
His eyebrows raise and he looks a little shocked, but a smile does eventually break out over his face.
Anonymous Male Doctor - "My, my. She has been asking about you ever since she arrived here. We tried to get in touch on numerous occasions but the only contact information we had was severely out of date."
Is he lying to me? I was contacted, numerous times. I've got voice mails……wait no I don't I got rid of that service to stop the bombardment of messages. Oh my god am I really making all of this up? Am I crazy? It has to be coincidence. F*ck I need to talk to Michael pretty sharpish.
Drakz - "Someone…..passed on a message, and here I am."
Anonymous Male Doctor - "This is brilliant. I'm really blown away that you're here. Please she's just over there."
My eyes follow the direction of his pointed finger, (I am not a dog and therefore know not to simply look at his finger tip) and I see her propped up by a mountain of pillows watching a television.
Drakz - "Thank you doctor."
Anonymous Male Doctor - "You've chosen a good day I must say, she's been particularly responsive all morning."
I smile at the misinformed gentleman and make my way over to a conversation I must be dreading because the little beast in my belly is turning cartwheels as he was last time. Why is this such an issue for me? I'm the f*cking man, not the neglected offspring. Not anymore.
Drakz - "Margaret."
She draws her attention from the screen and looks me dead in the eyes. I have a brief moment of panic. Will she remember my face? If she does will she remember me as her son or will she remember me as the impostor Dr Phillips? If there even is a real one? Ok forget about that mess for now. One at a time. Single file thoughts.
Margaret Cray - "Yes?"[/color]
All it takes is one word and I know I'm in the clear. She has no idea who I am. I stand there not knowing what else to say. I refuse to be the instigator in this meeting of the minds.
Margaret Cray - "Well? What do you want?"[/color]
Drakz - "It's me."
Margaret Cray - "Who are you?"[/color]
A former WFWF Heavyweight Champion. Ha! I could just cut a Randy Savage promo on her. Better take this seriously.
Drakz - "Isaac."
Baseball bat to the soul.
Her eyes well up.
Now she knows who I am. Or at least what I am.
Margaret Cray - "My little Isaac?"[/color]
Drakz - "Yours? I'm not sure you can claim ownership after 21 years of absence."
Straight out of the gate with the money shot……………………I don't think she even heard me. Her facial expression hasn't moved an inch. Maybe the shock just killed her?
Margaret Cray - "My little boy."[/color]
Drakz - "Did you not hear what I just…?"
Her brow crumples and her tongue pushes through her cracked lips for a second, licking the bottom one.
Margaret Cray - "21 years and you still haven't learnt when to shut the f*ck up."[/color]
Now it's me who is taken aback. I'll be honest I wasn't expecting that.
Margaret Cray - "Let me enjoy this for a second won't you?"[/color]
Her voice is like gravel after 50 years of smoking, and I'm sure that's why her wrinkles run so deep as well. She's a living anti-smoking campaign. I might even have to re-assess my own intake after this.
She looks me up and down, smiling out of one side of her mouth and showing off her yellow teeth. A gallery of neglect.
Margaret Cray - "You look like sh*t. Let me guess you're up to your eyeballs?"[/color]
Drakz - "I don't use anything untoward, only what's prescribed to me."
By Dr. Kyzer M.D.
Drakz - "Besides I'm a picture of health compared to you."
She husks a laugh followed closely by a 30 second bout of lung butter hawking. She spits into a glass by the bed. Foul.
Margaret Cray - "Are you still making a fool of yourself on TV?"[/color]
Drakz - "If you mean wrestling, then no. I stopped that a long time ago. Just for the record though I'm still living off of the profit so say what you will about my former profession, it pays."
Margaret Cray - "Does it pay well enough for everyone to think you're a f*ggot, gripping up guys in spandex?"[/color]
Now it's me that laughs. Maybe I should cut a promo and then piledriver the foul sack through her bed-pan.
Drakz - "So…………Why did you want to see me? It's been years and years since we've spoken, and then you find out your body is up sh*t creek and you decide I'm the first person who should know?"
Margaret Cray - "You're my son aren't you? What other reason do I need?"[/color]
I can't believe how much more together she seems than the last time I was here. She could barely remember two seconds prior and now she's having a perfectly normal, well….abnormal, conversation. Is she faking it? Is everyone here in on some big conspiracy against me?
Margaret Cray - "Besides I thought you might take some sick pleasure from the knowledge."[/color]
Drakz - "That you're about to croak?"
Margaret Cray - "If you're anything like me you'd be happy I was getting what I deserved after the way I treated you as a kid."[/color]
Drakz - "I'm nothing like you, at least I don't think I am. I don't really even know who you are."
Worryingly enough, the more I talk to this woman, the more I realise I'm very much like her. The harsh, cutting comments, the foul language, the utter disregard of anyone else's opinion. I can only hope should I ever get thrown into the trap of parenthood I'd handle it better than she did. Not treating my child as a punch bag would be a good start.
Margaret Cray - "I raised you didn't I? Of course you know who I am."[/color]
Drakz - "I was raised by the back of your wedding ring and a radio. Your only input was drunken slurring or grunting through your hang over."
Most people who have a story of torment to tell focus on their Father. The drunken fists, the fear, the booming voice. I on the other hand had to contest with a yappy little dog of a woman who would sooner pull your hair out than make you dinner. Not that it lasted too long, I was out of there pretty quickly once I had the mental wherewithal to realise I didn't have to put up with her sh*t.
Margaret Cray - "You needed a Father figure, a man around the house."[/color]
Drakz - "I think we both know if anything there were too many men around our house. As a grown man it blows my mind as to how you got any d*ck though because you were nasty as sh*t even back then."
Margaret Cray - "Show some respect for the womb that you ruined."[/color]
Well, she really is my mother. There aren't many women who would say that. Granted I did grab hold of bits and bobs inside her I shouldn't of when I was on my way out but I don't think there was any need for putting it so bluntly. Besides I wasn't even a day old, how can I be blamed for the hysterectomy that quickly followed. It was probably for the best anyway. No one would have wanted another Cray child wandering around.
I can't even be bothered getting into an argument about it though. It will be my fault whatever the outcome. Evil from the day I was born, apparently.
Margaret Cray - "I also wanted there to be some kind of peace between us. I didn't want to leave this world still thinking I'd completely messed you up."[/color]
So it's peace of mind she's after. Instant gratification and a one way ticket to heaven. I'm not here to wash away her sins, leave that to Reverend Shadow, if he's even still alive himself. Wow that was a strange reference to a guy I hardly remember.
Margaret Cray - "I wanted a mutual acceptance between us."[/color]
Drakz - "You want to shake hands? No hard feelings etcetera? This is rich. You must be aware this runs deeper than that? You didn't just let your dog dump on my front lawn, you abandoned me after 9 years of complete f*ckery and now you want to kiss and make up? I'm not that guy Margaret….."
Margaret Cray - "Mother…."[/color]
Drakz - "Mrs Cray. I'm not the kind of forgiving soul, I take things personally and I hold onto them regardless of what is deemed the right thing to do. I'm never the 'bigger man' because most of the time that amounts to giving in and being a p*ssy."
Margaret Cray - "You don't have even an ounce of love for me? Can you not search somewhere deep within yourself. I want you to know I'm sorry. I want this to be my apology. I want you to know that I do love you regardless of what you might think."[/color]
Is she for real?
Margaret Cray - "Please. Isaac. Don't let me die knowing I never fixed things between us. A day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought about you. Don't end up like me, spending the rest of your life regretting the decisions our family has made."[/color]
My stomach has gone from fluttering to a dead weight. It feels set to crush my pelvis and hit the cold floor, sinking, sinking, sinking. What is this feeling? Could I really forgive her? Could I honestly accept an apology from her? Most people wouldn't have to ask this question. Most people would take her in their arms and weep themselves dry. What should I do? I can't fight the feeling in my guts. I don't want to be like her, regretting something that can never be changed. Once my Mother is passed into the hands of the Earth's soil I won't get another chance to make amends and heal the wound. Her head hangs in her chest.
Margaret Cray - "I don't want to die knowing you still hate me Isaac. I can't rest with that hanging heavy on my heart."[/color]
A dusty tear runs the lines of her corrugated skin, tracing her pronounced skeletal jaw line right down to her chin. She really means it. Even Margaret Cray couldn't fake this, even Margaret Cray has limits.
Drakz - "Mother…."
Margaret Cray - "Isaac?"[/color]
She looks up at me, her eyes welling up. Deep breaths now.
Drakz - "I want you to know……."
Ok, this is it. The corners of her mouth turn a little, hope returning to her broken body.
Drakz - "I want you to know that as far as I'm concerned you're still a wretched old piece of crap and what will eventually kill you is only going to make me stronger. I relish in the fact that your death is finally drawing in. I have always and will always hate you."
Whispers burst from her mouth as she starts to hyperventilate.
Margaret Cray - "N……No…..N…N"[/color]
Drakz - "Yes. And the best part is, I'm not even going to hang around to find out when you actually die, because I don't give a sh*t. My hatred is such that I don't even want to know about you."
I move in closer, staring into her eyes, lowering my voice as I realise people are looking.
Drakz - "So when that day does come, when death creeps into the room and bears over you, think of me. I am the hooded ghoul. I am the Devil's wingman. Escaping this world will be the easy part. Once you're down there, that's when the real suffering begins."
Her mouth is wide with terror and disbelief, and she gasps for air, half choking.
Drakz - "You don't deserve forgiveness. You don't deserve peace."
She begins to sob, moaning at the top of her voice.
Margaret Cray - "Owwwwww!"[/color]
The same doctor from before is now walking in our direction so I have to cut things short.
Drakz - "What did you expect from me? Tenderness? Your hope only cements the fact that you don't know me one little bit."
Margaret Cray - "NOOOOOO!"[/color]
She wails even louder, throwing her head into her hands.
Drakz - "Goodbye Margaret."
And with that I just walk away. I've said my piece. I'm done. I walk past the doctor as he approaches the bed.
Anonymous Male Doctor - "Is everything alright?"
Drakz - "Just dandy."
Our exchange of words are lyrics over a harrowing backing track, that of a Mother who has truly lost her last shred of family. A wailing banshee.
The doctor doesn't look convinced and he continues on toward the soggy woman I have just left behind.
I leave the ward.
Goodbye cell.
I leave the corridors.
Goodbye green mile.
I leave the hospital.
Goodbye death trap.
I walk out of the building and into the sunlight which looks brighter now than ever before. I'm smiling and before I walk a step further I force my fingers down my throat instigating a surge of acid tasting bile and vomit that gushes onto the grass verge. The weight in my stomach dissipates and I realise it must have been something I ate. F*ck remorse, I'm above those kind of weaknesses. I'm the king of the womb! Try and tear me from it and I'll bring the walls with me. This life is my own and I make the decisions.
I take my phone from my pocket and dial the only number I have saved in the contacts.
*Ring Ring*
*Ring Ring*
Drakz - "Michael it's me. Tell whichever f*cking suit it concerns to get there cheque book ready. I'm coming back to WFWF."
[/center]
