Post by Gem on Jun 27, 2015 16:06:26 GMT -5
The phone vibrated continuously against the nightstand. I'd grown tired of checking it to see the same, repeated messages. Grant congratulating me on winning at Trauma, Father asking if I had gotten better, and of course, the blocked number. The unspeakable number. The one I intended to never use again. That one kept appearing with messages completely oblivious to what had happened, almost challenging me to bring it up. I had a feeling this most recent assault on my naptime would be the latter.
"Not sure why you've been ignoring me. Need to see you."
Not sure? Not sure?! My self-proclaimed Aunt assaults me, and she's not sure why I've been ignoring her? What could possibly be going on in her mind? It was obvious from her actions that this wasn't a "spur-of-the-moment" thing, but something that had been planned out and executed with great intent in mind. And even if it hadn't, even if it was impulsive, that didn't make it okay. Nothing was going to make this okay.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her forcing herself on me. Sometimes Tha Joka was with her in my dreams, as if encouraging the behavior he'd begun which he had initiated a year or so prior. My worst fears as a result of him had come true, and I was terrified to even be touched by a woman. Any woman. Now that I had to face Eira, this was going to be a problem for me.
Now, Eira had betrayed my trust, but in a way that was incomparable to what... No, she didn't deserve that name. From now on, she would just be That Person. It was incomparable to what That Person had done to me. However, that didn't change this combination of rage and fear that I couldn't shake. The feminine touch with forceful intent in any manner of meaning was terrifying to me, but I knew I couldn't avoid this one, nor could I lay the blame at the feet of Eira, who despite tricking me into speaking had never violated me in such a way.
I had to try to distract myself with thoughts of finally getting a one-on-one shot with Sadistic. That was how I'd defeated him, regardless of circumstances. Every other time the Hand had gotten the upper advantage of me, it'd been with help. The other Hand members, Stormm, Eira; there was always someone else involved, and someone with a motivation. My motivation was Sadistic. I'd never left a mission unfinished, and I wasn't about to start now. I had to focus on that. Not her... Not it... Not the...
"Hey!" a familiar voice called out. She was here.
I didn't know where, but I darted under my bed. It was the best thing I could come up with at the time. How stupid of me, to hide in my own bedroom and not expect someone with unregulated access to eventually take advantage of it.
Stiletto boots cracked their way into my room slowly, circling around like a hooker vulture. She didn't lean down, but I had a feeling she knew I was there. That Person may have been conniving, but she was in no way dumb.
"Gee Em, I guess you're just not here. I guess you just ran out with your phone still on the charger and everything in the middle of the night," she pretended to speak out loud to herself.
Her voice channeled my inner recesses of torment, conjuring up flickering images altered by the trauma (non-PCW) she'd left behind. Every click of her heel revealed the inside of that night club, being swallowed up like a spotlight in a vacuum. Her voice trickled down my temple like the sweat of shame that seeped from every pore in my body as she violated me repeatedly, telling me everything she'd ever wanted to do to me, and had waited until I was legal, as if that made it any better. Her newfound bisexuality was supposed to comfort the betrayed trust and the vilified feeling I had about every inch of my own body.
I was exhausted. I hadn't slept longer than an hour in two weeks. My stress levels were through the roof, and the mattress, as That Person finally conceded what she knew to be untrue. "I suppose we'll just run into each other sometime soon," she sneered, disappearing out of my locker room and into the abyss. Finally breathing out, the tears escaped with it, and I curled up. Unfortunately, I banged my knee in the crossbar in the process. Perfect, just what I needed going into a match with a rival for the chance to face our mutual rival; unintentionally sparking old injuries.
Pulling myself out this time, I remained on the floor, convulsing in pain and mental anguish. It was silent though; I'd lost the ability to fully cry somehow. I just felt weak, ineffective, useless and yet used. More footsteps echoed throughout the room, but I couldn't bring myself to resist anymore.
"Gem, what are you doing?" It was Grant, the insensitive jerk who brushed me off like one of his jokes when I tried to tell him. I wasn't even giving him the satisfaction of a return glance. I think he finally realized it was serious, because in no time, he was down at my side, trying to peel me out of my sadness cocoon.
"Emerald? Emerald!" He was calling me by my real name, he must've known it was bad. I refused to come out though. I didn't have to come out for him, or anyone else. None of them knew what I was going through. "Emerald, please, tell me what's going on?"
I tried to speak, but it was gone. I was hysterical and silent, the way everyone envisioned me when I first got here, and maybe what I deserved. It's how they'd expect me to be if I lost to Eira and failed my mission again, and it's how everyone in the world was going to see me. They were all going to laugh and point, taking the long gaze into the deep scars that penetrated my soul, and collectively take an apathetic piss into the trench. I was nothing to anyone anymore.
"Emerald, you can't let you enemies see you vulnerable like this, you have to get up!"
Right, my enemies, that's who I was worried about. Not my father's best friend. No, I should be more worried about the Hand, Sadistic, Eira, and Stormm, right? No pain they could inflict on me could damage the breaking of the bond like this. That Person was the one who was there when my Father was distant, dealing with his own scars. She'd spent the last five years treating me like her daughter, because she knew I'd never had a mother and never would. How could she do this?!
"Emerald," he finally conceded getting me to talk, and instead pulled my head to his lap. "I don't know what's going on, and clearly you're not ready to tell me. Whatever it is, you can trust me. It won't leave this conversation. I know something's wrong, because even when you won this week, you were terrified. Something happened to you, and I don't know what. If it's Eira, I'll find her and finish the business she started after she summoned you only to turn against you later. Whoever it is is going to have to deal with serious Nacho Grande, and that's nobody's friend. Even Sadistic knows that."
How is it he couldn't get himself out of promo mode, even when trying to console me? Did this guy just live wrestling, Taco Bell, and nothing else? I didn't have time for this. I closed my eyes, hoping they would finally bring me peace instead of terror, but alas, the moment they closed, there she was again... Between my knees, thrusting harder, drawing blood from several places. The diabolical look in her face, the scandalous tone, and the cockiness in her voice when she was in the room just now. This had been what she'd wanted for so long, she'd lured me into a trap like a sad little oblivious girl who never knew what hit her. And I didn't. This was how I'd lost my virginity; to a mother figure who had been planning to destroy me since she met me. I didn't know if I could live with that, and I knew my father couldn't.
Father, oh gods, what if he found out? Would he hurt her? Would he disown me? Would he cut us both out for causing emotional trauma? What would he do?
"I don't claim to know much about your people," Grant continued, "but I do know from talking to your father that you're both more susceptible to emotional pain, especially when it involves connections. You're going to take things harder and they're going to fester longer. I don't know if that helps. I don't know if anything will help, but when you're ready to let me in, I will."
Soon enough, he was gone, and there I was; an imperfect silence of torn shreds and broken bonds. Somehow soon I'd have to pull this mess of a teenage girl into the assassin everyone knew, everyone expected, and compete for what had until a few weeks ago been the most important thing in my life. Now it struck as a mere side piece that would distract me from the real thing; only the real thing just seemed to be a deep, empty tunnel full of nightmares and sadness, and I couldn't seem to turn my pace around.
I'd have to put on a face, one for the world to see and one for Eira and Sadistic to fear. I'd have to be someone else, because who I was right now was not going to do anyone any good. Nobody pays to see a broken and depressed little girl. And that's what this is all about, right? The business. High ratings with the crafty female veteran against the young girl she pretended to mentor and screwed over like everyone else had. She wanted the title, and made me vulnerable, nearly succeeding. Nothing else mattered anymore; she'd given me hope that I could have a female friend, or even a friend, around here. Nope. Nobody. Everyone was going to leave me, betray me, or sell me out to get what they wanted. I was a pawn in the business, perpetually tricked for the advantage of others, and the only way to break it would be to finally break Sadistic; shredding the Hand's grip on the company that had pervaded far too long for anyone to stand. And to do that, I'd have to pretend that I wasn't dying inside.
At that moment, I'd have given anything to be as oblivious and ignorant as That Person pretended she was.
"Not sure why you've been ignoring me. Need to see you."
Not sure? Not sure?! My self-proclaimed Aunt assaults me, and she's not sure why I've been ignoring her? What could possibly be going on in her mind? It was obvious from her actions that this wasn't a "spur-of-the-moment" thing, but something that had been planned out and executed with great intent in mind. And even if it hadn't, even if it was impulsive, that didn't make it okay. Nothing was going to make this okay.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her forcing herself on me. Sometimes Tha Joka was with her in my dreams, as if encouraging the behavior he'd begun which he had initiated a year or so prior. My worst fears as a result of him had come true, and I was terrified to even be touched by a woman. Any woman. Now that I had to face Eira, this was going to be a problem for me.
Now, Eira had betrayed my trust, but in a way that was incomparable to what... No, she didn't deserve that name. From now on, she would just be That Person. It was incomparable to what That Person had done to me. However, that didn't change this combination of rage and fear that I couldn't shake. The feminine touch with forceful intent in any manner of meaning was terrifying to me, but I knew I couldn't avoid this one, nor could I lay the blame at the feet of Eira, who despite tricking me into speaking had never violated me in such a way.
I had to try to distract myself with thoughts of finally getting a one-on-one shot with Sadistic. That was how I'd defeated him, regardless of circumstances. Every other time the Hand had gotten the upper advantage of me, it'd been with help. The other Hand members, Stormm, Eira; there was always someone else involved, and someone with a motivation. My motivation was Sadistic. I'd never left a mission unfinished, and I wasn't about to start now. I had to focus on that. Not her... Not it... Not the...
"Hey!" a familiar voice called out. She was here.
I didn't know where, but I darted under my bed. It was the best thing I could come up with at the time. How stupid of me, to hide in my own bedroom and not expect someone with unregulated access to eventually take advantage of it.
Stiletto boots cracked their way into my room slowly, circling around like a hooker vulture. She didn't lean down, but I had a feeling she knew I was there. That Person may have been conniving, but she was in no way dumb.
"Gee Em, I guess you're just not here. I guess you just ran out with your phone still on the charger and everything in the middle of the night," she pretended to speak out loud to herself.
Her voice channeled my inner recesses of torment, conjuring up flickering images altered by the trauma (non-PCW) she'd left behind. Every click of her heel revealed the inside of that night club, being swallowed up like a spotlight in a vacuum. Her voice trickled down my temple like the sweat of shame that seeped from every pore in my body as she violated me repeatedly, telling me everything she'd ever wanted to do to me, and had waited until I was legal, as if that made it any better. Her newfound bisexuality was supposed to comfort the betrayed trust and the vilified feeling I had about every inch of my own body.
I was exhausted. I hadn't slept longer than an hour in two weeks. My stress levels were through the roof, and the mattress, as That Person finally conceded what she knew to be untrue. "I suppose we'll just run into each other sometime soon," she sneered, disappearing out of my locker room and into the abyss. Finally breathing out, the tears escaped with it, and I curled up. Unfortunately, I banged my knee in the crossbar in the process. Perfect, just what I needed going into a match with a rival for the chance to face our mutual rival; unintentionally sparking old injuries.
Pulling myself out this time, I remained on the floor, convulsing in pain and mental anguish. It was silent though; I'd lost the ability to fully cry somehow. I just felt weak, ineffective, useless and yet used. More footsteps echoed throughout the room, but I couldn't bring myself to resist anymore.
"Gem, what are you doing?" It was Grant, the insensitive jerk who brushed me off like one of his jokes when I tried to tell him. I wasn't even giving him the satisfaction of a return glance. I think he finally realized it was serious, because in no time, he was down at my side, trying to peel me out of my sadness cocoon.
"Emerald? Emerald!" He was calling me by my real name, he must've known it was bad. I refused to come out though. I didn't have to come out for him, or anyone else. None of them knew what I was going through. "Emerald, please, tell me what's going on?"
I tried to speak, but it was gone. I was hysterical and silent, the way everyone envisioned me when I first got here, and maybe what I deserved. It's how they'd expect me to be if I lost to Eira and failed my mission again, and it's how everyone in the world was going to see me. They were all going to laugh and point, taking the long gaze into the deep scars that penetrated my soul, and collectively take an apathetic piss into the trench. I was nothing to anyone anymore.
"Emerald, you can't let you enemies see you vulnerable like this, you have to get up!"
Right, my enemies, that's who I was worried about. Not my father's best friend. No, I should be more worried about the Hand, Sadistic, Eira, and Stormm, right? No pain they could inflict on me could damage the breaking of the bond like this. That Person was the one who was there when my Father was distant, dealing with his own scars. She'd spent the last five years treating me like her daughter, because she knew I'd never had a mother and never would. How could she do this?!
"Emerald," he finally conceded getting me to talk, and instead pulled my head to his lap. "I don't know what's going on, and clearly you're not ready to tell me. Whatever it is, you can trust me. It won't leave this conversation. I know something's wrong, because even when you won this week, you were terrified. Something happened to you, and I don't know what. If it's Eira, I'll find her and finish the business she started after she summoned you only to turn against you later. Whoever it is is going to have to deal with serious Nacho Grande, and that's nobody's friend. Even Sadistic knows that."
How is it he couldn't get himself out of promo mode, even when trying to console me? Did this guy just live wrestling, Taco Bell, and nothing else? I didn't have time for this. I closed my eyes, hoping they would finally bring me peace instead of terror, but alas, the moment they closed, there she was again... Between my knees, thrusting harder, drawing blood from several places. The diabolical look in her face, the scandalous tone, and the cockiness in her voice when she was in the room just now. This had been what she'd wanted for so long, she'd lured me into a trap like a sad little oblivious girl who never knew what hit her. And I didn't. This was how I'd lost my virginity; to a mother figure who had been planning to destroy me since she met me. I didn't know if I could live with that, and I knew my father couldn't.
Father, oh gods, what if he found out? Would he hurt her? Would he disown me? Would he cut us both out for causing emotional trauma? What would he do?
"I don't claim to know much about your people," Grant continued, "but I do know from talking to your father that you're both more susceptible to emotional pain, especially when it involves connections. You're going to take things harder and they're going to fester longer. I don't know if that helps. I don't know if anything will help, but when you're ready to let me in, I will."
Soon enough, he was gone, and there I was; an imperfect silence of torn shreds and broken bonds. Somehow soon I'd have to pull this mess of a teenage girl into the assassin everyone knew, everyone expected, and compete for what had until a few weeks ago been the most important thing in my life. Now it struck as a mere side piece that would distract me from the real thing; only the real thing just seemed to be a deep, empty tunnel full of nightmares and sadness, and I couldn't seem to turn my pace around.
I'd have to put on a face, one for the world to see and one for Eira and Sadistic to fear. I'd have to be someone else, because who I was right now was not going to do anyone any good. Nobody pays to see a broken and depressed little girl. And that's what this is all about, right? The business. High ratings with the crafty female veteran against the young girl she pretended to mentor and screwed over like everyone else had. She wanted the title, and made me vulnerable, nearly succeeding. Nothing else mattered anymore; she'd given me hope that I could have a female friend, or even a friend, around here. Nope. Nobody. Everyone was going to leave me, betray me, or sell me out to get what they wanted. I was a pawn in the business, perpetually tricked for the advantage of others, and the only way to break it would be to finally break Sadistic; shredding the Hand's grip on the company that had pervaded far too long for anyone to stand. And to do that, I'd have to pretend that I wasn't dying inside.
At that moment, I'd have given anything to be as oblivious and ignorant as That Person pretended she was.