3.Awakening
Daddy’s Fallen Angel
When I look back at the path I’ve walked, it’s easy to assume that any of the speed bumps, pot holes and divots could've caused a crash. It would be even easier to assume that the things I’ve done and the instances of anger have been those bumps and holes. The people I’ve hurt, the people I’ve turned my back on – it’s all been because of that path I was forced down, right? Assumptions are rarely true. Mainly because you rarely get all the facts when making those assumptions.
But if it were true and I could pinpoint the exact moment my little feet ran into their first speed bump on my path, the first real speed bump that forces you to re-evaluate life and what it means, it would have been the first moment my innocence was taken. It all begins with the idea of first times. The first time is always important, isn’t it? Most big moments in your life you can narrow down to being a first. Your first time riding a bike, driving a car, your first kiss, the first time you try your favorite food, the first time you feel someone’s nose break under your closed fist or the first time you hyperextend an elbow and hear ligaments snap…
Sorry, those last two were probably just applicable to people like me.
But my point still stands. First times make up for so many of our experiences. They leave lasting marks on us. So many of them turn into scars. “Every scar will build my throne” – a great line from a great song. I have enough scars to build a throne room as well as the throne itself. Most people who have a bad first experience will ignore it and move on. Later, it might even become a funny story to tell their friends and family later on.
But to me, the first times I had, ones that were supposed to be important for a young woman in her growth and development, they were the stuff made of nightmares. The love and respect for a father who was supposed to protect me and care for me. They had been taken and corrupted, left in a crying mess on the bathroom floor. Things that should have been born from innocent exploration or a feeling of love are black and bruised. Bleeding and dying. I remember the night it happened. I remember the feeling, I remember everything and the more it happened, the less I felt.
People who I’d known, friends and family, even my ex all asked me: “Aren’t you angry?” “Or upset?” There was a time I was angry, a time I was hurt and upset. But now I just wish I could feel that again. Because now when I look back on those experiences. Those first times. It’s no longer a source of anger and pain. I no longer cry and feel sorry for myself. No, those feelings are long since dead and buried. Hidden under six feet of dirt.
In many ways I died that night. That first experience is what led to a fork in the road, and I walked down a path that would forever change me. I started to shut down my emotions one by one until I was reborn as a different person. The sweet little girl who laughed and smiled and couldn’t understand or comprehend the darkness around her was now overtaken by it and born from it. Truth is maybe I should thank my father for what he did. In hurting me for his own sick twisted amusement he made sure no one could really hurt me ever again. I mean really…
Who can hurt a monster?
Norwich England
19 years ago
I was alone with him. The first time in a long time my daddy and I were in the house. Just us. It was the middle of the day, he had been in a good mood. The last few weeks had been different. He and mother seemed to get along. Jackson had been doing well in school, causing our father to have a rush of pride in his only son. Amber had kept to herself as usual but she had been helping me.
But then it happened. Tasmin got sick. A bad cough and mother had to take her to a specialist in London. Amber went with her to help and Jackson was away at a football camp. It just left us alone in the house. At first I enjoyed it. Having my father to myself. Being able to tell him about my day at school. But here we were, a day off. I didn’t understand why. He woke me up in the morning with a smile. Told me he wanted to give me a day at home because I had been so good. It had been like a dream…
I had always felt invisible. Whenever he would start to notice me, talk to me, give me any type of fatherly love and affection, Amber was there. She would swoop in and steal it all away. I grew to hate her for it. Jackson was the firstborn son; he had expectations and had greatness pushed on him, Amber was the first daughter craving our father’s attention and Tasmin was the baby, replacing me. I was lost. But these few days I was the special one. And that day my father told me I was his princess for the day, but then he needed a drink.
If I had known. If I had felt it and realized what the pain in my stomach was, that moment of impending dread and a warning shot your body gives you. I should have run to the neighbors. But instead I trusted him. I loved him and I foolishly craved his attention. I remember him pulling me onto his lap, I remember his hugs and laughter. Each time he would take a sip of his drink. I thought it made him happy…relaxed.
Wrong.
I remember wanting to tell him his drink smelled funny, that he seemed to look sick. But I stayed silent. I wanted to be his good girl, I wanted to be the one he spent time with. Not Amber. I closed my eyes and shut it all off. I let it all slip away. Afterwards I cried alone in the bathroom after he told me to clean up. I sat on the floor, pain across my cheek where he had hit me. On my wrist where he had grabbed me when I tried to pull away.
That was the first time. My first time. I don’t even know what I did to set him off. To anger him so much. The next day they all returned. I sat in mine and Amber’s bedroom staring at the wall. I didn’t even play with our toys. They felt useless to me now. The second Amber walked in she knew. She looked down at me and put her hand on my shoulder, I looked up into her face and eyes, the same look I now had. She tilted her head and whispered in my ear telling me that if I needed to talk she was there, she said she was sorry.
And then I felt nothing. She felt it, she was hurt and angry for me. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. Amber had protected me for years, putting herself in front of the bullet each time. Making herself the one to take the slaps that he called love. So, in the final act of kindness and love I had for the only person who really did protect me….I lied…
“Nothing Happened…”
Last Year
After remembering painful moments and memories, it is important to think of where you are, and points at which you’ve changed and evolved. Times that are positive. And to me, nothing has been as positive as meeting him.
So many have asked why we are the way we are. And what are we?
The first time I saw him was…different. I stood next to my sister. She’d dragged me along to some get-together with her friends. One of them being Dickie Watson. A wrestler in his own right, a champion in fact. But, I couldn’t have given less of a shit. No, what was really special about Dickie, the only thing special about him…was that he was related to Finn Whelan.
I remember when I saw him, it was like time stopped. My sister was talking, her mouth was moving at a breakneck speed. But I couldn;’t hear her. Cause all I could see, was him. Call it love at first sight, call it need or want, shit call it lust I don’t care.
His hair was slicked back, showing his face, his perfect cheekbones, his piercing eyes and the look on his face of utter boredom and disdain. One that matched the same one I had only moments before. “So then I turned and Adam caught the damn psyduck before me!...Kay….are you even listening to me?”
I wasn’t. And hadn’t. ”Yeah I heard you. Elmer shot Daffy duck...look, why is he here?”
Tasmin blinked and looked over at them, she raised her eyebrow and gave a small shrug. I stayed staring at Finn. “Finn?..well, he’s a wrestler like u-”
”I KNOW WHO HE IS…I mean why is he HERE?”
She seemed confused, and in a moment I’d know why, she motioned toward Dickie pointing at them both. ”He’s..Dickie’s brother”“
”Wait….he is that twerp’s brother?....I…you…Taz, introduce us.”
”...O…k…
I was nervous, extremely so. Which was strange for me. And then, before Tasmin could take more than a half step, a chill ran through my body. I reached out grabbing her arm. ”WAIT!” I hadn’t planned for this, I was just wearing jeans and a T-shirt, my hair was a mess. As quick as my hands could move I grabbed my hair twirling it up and away from my face, my hands shooting sideways for a pair of scissors cutting the bottom of my shirt to show my midsection, and of course, I turned away to fix the twins….
I had to make the girls seem perky…don’t fucking judge me.
Tasmin rolled her eyes, she now knew what was happening. I turned back around and put on a smile. Tasmin stepped over toward Dickie who smiled seeing her, and frowned when he saw me… “Hey Dickie…Finn, I want you to meet my sister…Finn, this is Kayla…Kayla…this is Finn...”
Promotional Material
“I’m so glad it hasn’t taken as long for me to have another match...”
We hear the tapping footsteps of Kayla Richaards following her British accent. The sound of high heels hitting a tiled floor echoing and coming closer. The tapping is made by a pair of black pumps, making her already long legs look even longer. Legs that are almost as heavily tattooed as her arms. She wore a tight fitting little black dress hugging her body.
“But after my last performance I can see why SCW didn’t want to wait and keep me hidden away. See, my first match, while impressive, was against someone who might as well be putting the fries in the oil at a local McDonalds. Bea Barnhart isn’t exactly the picture of a challenge is she? But what I did to her was impressive, I carried her to a moment that people will remember. Then, when you people next saw me it was to again destroy Bea. But I did it because I couldn’t let her and her fathead husband steal Finn's title…and to get an idea of how much people dislike Bea, when I hit her with that dreamkiller the people cheered..”
“Let that sink in. Fans cheered for something I did.”
“That reminded SCW that I was employed, that reminded them what they had and my next match was against Ariana Angelos. And that one? Well so many thought I would be beaten by the little Greek spitfire. See, people like her. She has a certain charm and a certain attitude to her that people gravitate toward. She’s an underdog. And people love to watch an underdog succeed. So, I took great pride a few weeks ago in snuffing out that hope and that underdog story…”
“I loved hearing the disappointment in the crowd as I got the win and I loved it even more looking around at the fans in the front row. Hearing the vile things they would say to me after…I am under no illusions here, I know I’m the villain in every single story I could possibly be in. Including this one. With what I could possibly earn…”
Kayla's dress and shoes were black as they could be, to match her hair, her nails, her eyeliner. It made the emerald green in her eyes shine even more, the red lipstick on her face pop and be even more noticeable in contrast.
”See, if I win this next match I am being put in the Ultimate X for the Roulette title at the next supercard, Summer XXXtreme, a cruise ship show. And I know, you’re probably all expecting me to be ecstatic. I get to be on a cruise ship and go on holiday on the company's dime right? But really, winning this match and getting a shot at gold would be the only reason on earth why I would get on one of those floating disease infested petri dishes with a bunch of uneducated unhygienic marks like the SCW fanbase…”
“But that is exactly what will happen. When I continue my unbeaten streak and go on to Summer XXXtreme I will have a chance to hold the Roulette Title, currently held by Kat Jones, and what a moment that would be. I win that one, Finn holds the male version and he and I get to be the most dominant duo in SCW.”
“It’s just a shame that to win the title I’d have to be involved in such a farce of a match.”
“See, I got into wrestling to kick people very very hard and grab body parts and limbs to twist them to breaking point, to prove that I am the best and most dangerous woman on the goddamn planet, not to climb a bunch of wires over a pool to dunk whatever other women are in my way and retrieve a title belt. But, sometimes you have to do things you think are fucking stypid for the entertainment of the unwashed masses. And I am graciously allowing myself to be made a fool of so I can save you all from Kat Jones and her monotone cliched “I’m the biggest bitch” attitude…”
She scoffs and folds her arms over her chest, pushing her right leg out to strike a pose as she pushes her shoulders back, her chest forward and her nose up in the air as if looking down on everyone.
”But, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. See, before I can book my ticket to that match and a chance at becoming roulette champion I have to first get through Levana Cade. One of the Go Gym graduates. And while I’m on this subject, when did all these gyms pop up? Go Gym, Wolfslair, Hero Academy. Give me a break. You all want to wear your colours on your sleeves like you’re in some sort of gang? Back home every single football team, or soccer as you all call them had what we would refer to as a “firm” and these firms were a bunch of grown adults acting like ultra violent morons for the sake of a football team..”
“This is that same fucking energy.”
“I don’t care who or what trained you, Levana. What I care about is results. And all those people who did train you should care too. See, if I had a hand in training you, I’d be ashamed Levana. In the months you’ve been in SCW you have had this up and down career. A hot start, a horrible middle and now here you are struggling to claw back credibility. In fact you are the epitome of..as the kids say..”
“Mid”
“You’re Mid Levana. And mid doesn’t measure up to a woman like me. I mean come on now. You think a win over Candy impresses me Levana? You think being carried to the semi finals of the Blast from the past makes me excited for this match? Levvie, honey, you’re a joke.
Kayla can’t help but chuckle, moving to the side as she reaches out and flicks on a light. Behind Kayla we see a trophy cabinet, filled qwith everything she has collected over her fruitful, yet young career.
”Me? I’m not. I’m far, far from it. See, you might be a great wrestler some day, a performer and a warrior worthy of holding a championship and being in that bright, shiny spotlight. But, not today. You have been floating around here, bouncing in and out of matches struggling with your identity. I mean really Levana. Who are you? What are you? You’re that quiet little mouse who can occasionally explode, a middle of the road name on a list. You’re a GO Gym graduate and that is literally all anyone really knows about you.”
“It’s on the branding for the show, it’s mentioned by everyone including me and all you have done to try and show there is more to you is mention how you’re a “monster”. Really? Honey, I don’t bel;ieve in monsters. I don’t believe in fairytales. I don’t check in my closet at night, I don’t look under my bed. A monster is something or someone that does things that make people sick and instills fear.”
“Reality is scarier than that. And the reality of loss should frighten you.”
“All your big talk about how bad you are, all the talk about how you’re evil, twisted and a beast and all you have to show for it is a losing record with your biggest win coming over a sugar coated powderpuff who spends more time doting on her toilet brush fluffball of a dog than getting in the gym and training. And we’re supposed to fear that? We’re supposed to look at you and shiver in our little booties? Candy might have, Chloe Benton might to, but any competition, and I mean REAL competition will just point and laugh…”
Kayla shakes her head and shrugs.
”You’re like that meme, of the adorable little bat saying “it is the darkness”. You know what a monster is Levana? What real darkness is? It’s the world we live in. The broken down destroyed families and houses, the fact the banks control most of the world, the fact we are in a constant state or war and flux. A monster is a corporate head who revokes support and loans from small businesses, a monster is the president of a large nation squeezing the life from a smaller country, a monster is a father smiling for the neighbors and the world while in private he gets drunk and slaps around his wife and kids…”
Kayla pauses and swallows hard, for a moment, a brief fleeting moment her outer shell cracks and her eyes turn from the confident emerald to a lighter green, a reflection of a moment in her past, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone, her chest puffing out as a cocky grin comes across her red painted lips.
”A monster is someone who will do anything to get ahead…I don’t care about you, your career or whatever you think you have done or gone through to get here. I don’t care about this persona you’ve crafted or the future you think you have or deserve. I care about me. I care about my future, my opportunities. I care about destroying everyone that this company puts in front of me to make goddamn sure they never, ever forget I am employed again. And yes, that does still piss me off. My name is Kayla fucking Richards. I am one of the most prodigious talents to ever step foot in a wrestling ring, whether it be four sides or six.”
“I am a special talent.”
“Anyone with two eyes and a half functioning brain can see it.”
“Everything you seem to think about yourself in relation to this company is more about me than you. You wonder if SCW sees what they have in you? They are just starting to see what I am capable of, what I can do. And in the end you will just be another name on the list of people I beat to reach the top, another stone paved on the road I walk and stepped on. Another rung on the fucking ladder. And I don’t give a shit where that roulette whell lands, what kind of match you and I are forced into.”
“From the most violent, sadistic matches this company had to offer, to the ridiculous and mundane.”
“It could be a pencil on a pole match for all I care…”
“I could “John Wick” you bitch.”
“At Climax Control, in the first match of the night the fans in attendance will witness something truely monstourous, and it won’t be you and your empty threats and attitude, it won’t be the woman hiding in the shadows hoping that no one sees past the mask that they have put up in front of them. No, it’s going to be me. They wilkl see what I do to you and then Kat Jones and anyone else in the roulette division will shudder, shake and they will know true fear. And they will know the name…”
“Kayla Richards…”
