Failure often spirals.
Bad luck regularly cultivates.
Yet, even with that knowledge I couldn’t help but let the events of my failed quest in the Blast from the Past tournament, torment me. My sky rocketing career in Sin City Wrestling was now no more than a whisper. Since losing to Myra, I failed to wrestle my way to victory in an elimination match and last time I stepped foot inside the ring, I found myself at the mercy of Jessie Salco.
Like a ball of yarn, I’ll continue to unravel.
It was foolish to think, I could ride the high for so long before the darkness opened her mouth and swallowed.
It was expected of me. The downward turn of events was always meant to be in my future.
Because I can’t control it.
The way my skin burns, the way it feels like there are a million and one needles pricking my skin all for the sake of my sanity.
Stability has always escaped me, whilst insanity has plagued me.
- - - - - - -
Rhodes, Greece.
I had never venture out of the state of Nevada, so to say that wanderlust had taken over my body since joining the Sin City Wrestling tour of Greece, would be a great understatement. The world was truly a marvel and here I was in my early twenties only just now getting a taste of the different sights, sounds and cultures that the world had to offer. It wasn’t all my fault, that I led a sheltered life. It wasn’t my fault that I grew up within four walls of a clubhouse, and yet even with my last five years of freedom I still couldn’t bring myself to leave Las Vegas. Like a bug trapped inside a spider’s web, I cocooned myself.
Maybe the last five years had been my fault. I wasn’t going to slice that part of myself open and dissect, as id be there for years trying to figure out the working cogs of my psyche.
Truth be told, it safer when I’m at ease, it’s safer for everyone when I’m in a familiar place for when to many things change around me, a little fuse starts to fire away and it’s only a matter of time before she detonates.
I haven’t always been this way, if you can believe it up until eight years of age, I was normal. I had it all, a loving mother, a loving father the world around me was perfect. Much like this moon lit night in Rhodes. I can see why people around the world flock here to take world famous photos of the moon. The way it seems 1000x closer to the earth as it glistens above the crystal blue water, is enough to have anyone in awe. The darkness of night has always been my favourite, but I’ve always had a fascination with the moon. Why wouldn’t I? After all I was named after it.
Depending on whom you speak to, Levana means the rise… or it’ means the moon of white. Lucky for my hippy mother was happy to make it a combination of both. Since I can remember she told me, that ever time she held me in her arms, she knew the moon would rise up safely in the night sky, draining our world from the problems of the day. Sappy I know. Cheesy, extra fucking thick. But my mother loved it. She was in everyway a dream catcher and if she could part some of the hippy dippy wisdom on you, she would.
Her eccentric attitude is what had people gravitating towards her, it’s what made her the perfect old lady to my father. It’s why every time they looked at each other all I could see was a shining beacon of love and light.
It was blinding.
Yet, deceiving and it’s nights like this that take me back to the moment my world shattered into a million pieces.
Gazing up at the moon from the balcony of my apartment for the week, I couldn’t shift my blue eyes away from the moon even if I wanted to. It was big, bright, and blistering. I was flying solo in Rhodes, Evie was back in the states, my other female friends were holding down the territory back home and I’m yet to make any other friends in Sin City Wrestling. Probably my fault, the thought of talking to people who are fake makes me want to slit their throats and finger paint with their blood. That’s probably frowned upon in social settings, so here I sit, beer in hand as I look towards the moon. My reminder that whatever shitty things happened today, there would always be a tomorrow once the moon was done cleansing the day into night.
When I was little, I used to live by those words, but the older I seem to get the more I seem to realise that bull shit sick around regardless of the tone of presence of the sky. Lifting the bottle to my lips I take a swig of my beer, savouring the taste as the cold brew inhabits my mouth. Mindlessly my index finger rakes around the rim of the bottle seven times. A tick I’ll never be free from. Bringing the glass to my lips once more to down the rest of content of the bottle in one forced gulp, before sitting the glass down on the table beside me. With my glazing eyes transfixed on the moon I can’t help but take an involuntarily trip back down memory lane.
*******
“Moon” my mother soothes, as she grabs onto my shoulders.
I knew something was wrong from the force of her fingers pressed into my skin, she had never shown any signs of aggression towards me, nothing bruising and even I knew this was going to leave a mark.
“Moon, wake up.” She shakes me again, her voice a screaming whisper.
As my eyes flutter open, I look up into her blue eyes, that match mine. Her beautiful blue eyes that are normally filled with calmness, this time are now filled with a brewing storm. She doesn’t wait for me to speak, she reaches down and grabs a hold of my right hand, and she tugs me off my bed. Her movements are panicked, rushed, forced.
“Mama, what’s going on?” I whisper.
She whips her arm around me, tucking me into her side. I didn’t miss the backpack on her back. As she rushes us towards the door. Whisking me away in the dead of night. As she pushes me towards the backdoor she cringes as the old hinges squeal in protest as they open. But that’s not the sound that haunts me. Oh no, it’s the heavy boots on the timber floor that echo behind us. Pushing me outside, Mama throws the bag towards me, telling me to run towards the tree line that surrounds our home. I don’t move to stubborn too tired, to self-centred because I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. The back door slammed closed, the rumbling of voices from the within buzz in my ear drums. It was my father’s voice that caught me off guard, before the bellowing sound of gun firing screams at my ears piercing them with a ringing.
Rushing back towards the house, I remember falling to my knees as the pool of blood that glazed the floor around my fallen mother’ body. Rushing towards her I held her. holding her gasping body in my tiny little arms.
One, exhale.
Two, inhale.
Three, exhale.
Four, inhale.
Five, exhale.
Six, inhale.
Seven, exhale.
There was never an eight, she never made it to eight. Looking up I saw the pained look in my father’s eyes but it’s his words that continue to haunt me.
“She was going to take you away from me, moon.” His booming voice almost faulted.
He held his arms out, and like a moth to a flame I drove straight into them. Stepping over my mother like nothing had just happened, like her blood was staining my skin…
That when I knew I was a monster.
*******
My eyes ripped open to look at the moon, the horrors of my childhood fresh in my mind. Reaching up with my right hand, my finger nails find the flesh of my left wrist and without hesitation, I start to claw away at my own flesh. Raking the manicured nails across my veins, blood pooling at the skin, each swipe going deeper than the one before.
I only stop once I’ve counted to seven.
Then I let the blood pool around me and bask in the patterns the splatters paint on the balcony.
Don’t fear for me, for I’m not broken.
Fear for me because I can’t be undone.
- - - - - - -
Here we go again, a chance at redemption.
A chance to rise up once again and yet all I have to do is beat the unbeatable.
Dethrone the resident Queen. She may not hold the title but that won’t ever remove her from the throne.
Many have tried to best her and may have failed and yet, I can hold the glimmering title of beating her in the blast from the past over Amber’s head and yet… a tag team victory will hold no weight… if I can’t beat her one on one. It won’t be easy, it won’t be a walk in the park and yet here I am eager to tie my laces.
I’ve been in the shadows since losing to Myra and Max, but I can promise you Amber… it’s time for me to shine. Though I must inform you, my shine won’t be golden… it will be crimson and with your blood I’ll paint this canvas.
You’re a message to be sent, a letter without pen but the words I will write with beating you this Sunday night will put me back on track in Sin City Wrestling.
Although if I can’t have victory, I’ll settle for the match that will drag me out of the darkness and into the light. A match against you is the struggle that I deserve.
A wake up, I can’t snooze. So, I won’t ignore.
I’ll take this opportunity with both hands, and squeeze as I wrap them around your throat.
Don’t get me wrong I admire you, I may even look up to you… and that’s why I can’t let you down. And sadly, that will ruin me and in turn ruin you.
For I ruin everything I touch, I cripple it and it crumbles.
I will come at you with everything I have, will it be enough only time will tell… but I can guarantee you this. My eyes have been glued shut since the tag match, it’s time to regain my sight and visualise my future.
My future is simply this, I will rule this division one day. No thrones, no crowns, just with an iron fist.
They will fall, they will bow and without knowing it, they will realise that even in my darkest days my light was bound to show.
I’ll bask in it.
They’ll bake in it.
Just know Amber… you’re the one I’ll book mark as my turning point. You’re the one that will force my hands to grow. Meeting you in the ring this weekend is what I needed to wake up.
And after Sunday night, I’ll force the rest of the roster to take notice of what is yet to come.
A shift.
No movie stars, no heroes.
No stars, no capes.
The future is chaos.
Enjoy the fucking show.
