Post by James Gilmore on Mar 18, 2018 8:09:31 GMT
”Son
You've got a way to fall
They'll tell you where to go
But they won't know
Son
You'd better take it all
They'll tell you what they know
But they won't show
Oh,
I’ve got somethin’ in my throat
I need to be alone
While I suffer…”
Journal Entry #9 - “Way to Fall”
December 16, 2017 - 8:45 AM (Day 4)
”Oh man...I’m still alive, ain’t I?
‘Cuz I sure as snot don’t feel that way.
The torture continued on, with Lindsey doin’ everything she could to make me buckle under the pressure. Yet through it all my thoughts were on Yulia, and perhaps...she was the real reason why I chose to keep my mental strength intact even though I was bein’ put through hell. Yet thinkin’ about it now, I could only come to one realization that flashed through my mind as 25,000 volts coarsed through my body from Lindsey’s taser.
This was all my own doin’.
It was my fault that I let my soul decay, which led to Lindsey comin’ into my life, which ultimately led to the accident last October.
I can’t do nothin’ to change that.
This was my punishment for doin’ all things stupid. I shut the other good people out and let the bad ones in. After all without Yulia, the only “good” gal in my life that loved me for who I was, I felt I was truly alone. I had nobody else to talk to, nobody else to care for...and I truly believed that nobody would even wanna care for ME--an old, haggard man with one eye with nothin’ else in my life except for broken dreams and empty promises.
I didn’t wanna be scared no more. I wanted to travel back in time to when things made sense. But I couldn’t...and I felt a pain much worse than my old manager’s sadism and torture.
All I wanted was a light--any light--to help me figure my way out of this mess.
When the fourth day started, I awoke to a big surprise. No Lindsey, a goon that was more interested in watchin’ GLOW on Netflix than anything else goin’ on, and a cheerful young gal that reminded me of….well ya know, me when I was a certain age…”
“Allamaraine, count to four
Allamaraine, then three more
Allamaraine, if you can see
Allamaraine, you’ll come with me…”
James Gilmore, strapped to the gurney inside the old prison death chamber, could only turn his head and watch as a little girl, sporting blonde pigtails and a red dress, pretended to play hopscotch on the concrete floor while singing the infamous rhyme from the Deep Space Nine first season episode “Move Along Home.” In spite of the fact that he didn’t particularly care for the episode in question, often saying it was the worst in the series, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Perhaps, he thought, the gal was a Trekkie just like him, and it made him feel somewhat comfortable after being tortured with Lindsey Grawn’s taser the last couple of days.
The girl stopped singing, giggling as she observed James struggle to move his arms and legs. “You’re awake!,” she squealed, prompting James to nod silently--unsure whether or not she was leading him into a trap. “Mommy says she had to do some grown-up things before coming back here.”
“I...I didn’t know she was your mom, but I really don’t think it’s a good thing for any mom to bring a kid to a sad, scary place like this…,” he said with a groggy sigh. “May I ask how old you are?”
“Six,” she replied. Gilmore’s face turned into a deep, dark frown. He had no idea that Lindsey even had a daughter to begin with, much less a reason as to why the former campaign manager would EVER want to bring a child to the very scene of his torture. Yet to spite his predicament, he began to recall a memory of watching the show when he was young.
“And I suppose you got that rhyme from Star Trek,” he said with a slight grin. “I started watchin’ it when I was your age. I...grew up with it--it’s my favorite show too.”
“I like the one with the BIIIIIIIG fish!,” she spoke excitedly. James laughed out loud, understanding the reference. Yet he didn’t want to remind her that, in Star Trek IV, whales weren’t exactly “fish” as said by Gillian Taylor, played by Catherine Hicks in the film. As he continued to laugh, the girl cautiously approached the table to check out James’ scars on his face…
...and she widened her hazel eyes in shock over what this “grown-up” has been subjected to in his life.
“Mommy says you did a really bad thing,” the girl intoned with a slight frown. “But...you don’t sound like a really bad grown-up.”
James perked up his right brow in disbelief. He didn’t ask for--much less deserve--any sympathy from anyone in particular. Yet in his heart...he began to realize that, perhaps, she was trying to help HIM rediscover the man he once was prior to her mom's arrival into his own life.
The lone guard in the room didn’t even seem to care--he was still focused on watching GLOW on his tablet.
“If you push the l’il green button on that wall panel over there...you’ll untie me from this bed,” he spoke softly, like a gentle father whose only goal in mind was to prevent his child from feeling frightened. “And I’ll tell ya what I did--I promise.”
”My mom once told me: ‘don’t ever make promises you can’t keep.’
Lindsey would always say: ‘promises be fucked up the ass.’
Trouble is, as I watched the l’il tyke dutifully prance on over to that console and released my restraints, my mind started to become conflicted, poisoned with many thoughts on what I would have done...versus what I SHOULD do. The “old” guy I was, that hateful persona, would follow Lindsey’s advice to the letter--without question. Yet when I saw the look on her daughter’s face upon wakin' up--that priceless, joyful smile that was full of love and life--it was at that moment in time, in my darkest hour, that I started to put the pieces together and figure out the one thing I always wanted to be more than anything else:
A dreamer.
Even though I kept askin' myself 'who the hell would ever wanna talk to me?'
All she wanted to do...was be my friend, to lend me her ear. In spite of her mom’s mind games, it was the kid’s decision to even laugh at me--I couldn’t make it for her. Yet I didn’t know how I was gonna be able to explain the events of that fateful October day without scarin’ her to tears.
I had to do the best I could--nothin’ more, nothin’ less.
While keepin’ a reasonable and safe distance yet close enough for her to hear me, we sat down on the cold concrete--a moment in time in which the past met the future, in which a haggard freak of a man was bein’ mentored by an honest, lovin’ child that didn’t wanna see anyone suffer. I couldn’t break the word I’d given her. Otherwise I’d risk a punishment that would’ve been far worse than simply bein’ tortured.
That was a risk I wasn’t willin’ to take…”
“I...made a grown-up die by accident…,” James said with a deep sigh. “I was buildin’ sandcastles on my own beach at my house with my best friend, and a bad guy came over without knockin’ and tried to do bad things to us. I...tried to do a good thing by grabbin’ the bad guy’s gun, helpin’ out my friend ‘cuz I didn’t want nobody to make him die. And…”
Hanna listened intently, wondering how a man who was only trying to defend another life could end up suffering and seemingly powerless to stop it. She had an unconditional love for her mother, as all kids would do at her age, but deep down in her soul...she sensed that, perhaps, Gilmore had a heart yet didn't think of himself as 'perfect.'
To her, he was a grown-up that made mistakes which led to his current situatioon.
James paused for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts as he found himself at a crossroads. How, as he would ponder, should he explain to this little girl that her own mother was the one that wanted him dead to begin with. Just before he could spill his guts even further, the steel door to the old death house swung open and slammed against the wall.
Lindsey, with taser in hand along with the other thug, power-walked in with a smile on her face. “Good mornin’ baby doll. I hope ya slept well.”
“Yeah, tell me about bein’ strapped to a bed all night…,” James intoned softly. He was tired from an overall lack of sleep, but he was still standing tall against his captors.
“I see you’ve been gettin’ to know my daughter Hannah,” Lindsey spoke with just a slight hint of contempt in her tone. “She’s on her first day of Winter Break at school and can’t wait for Santa to come, right Hanna-Banana?!”
“Yep!,” Hannah squealed excitedly. Her mother then motioned for her to stand next to the pedestal with the three Coca-Cola cans, and as she did so dutifully, the mind games resumed in earnest.
“Alrighty--shall we try again? How many Coke cans do ya see?,” the former manager quizzed.
Yet at this point in time, James’ focus wasn’t on the drink cans. It was on the young kindergartner who was an unwilling witness to her own mother’s actions. “...what Coke cans?,” he snarled defiantly, bracing himself to be zapped with the 25,000-volt Taser Pulse in an instant…
...but in a surprising twist, Lindsey restrained herself.
“Think about it for a moment…,” she said, placing her thumb on the gadget’s safety switch while sauntering up to her old employer in a last-ditch attempt to work her seductive magic. “You let me back into your life and I’ll give you all the comfort and lovin’ in the world. We can put our differences aside, I won’t rag you about puttin’ my sweet Roberto six feet under, I won’t do nothin’ to Mikhail...you’ll have the greatest existence known to man.”
”Wow...never in a zillion years did I ever imagine Lindsey Grawn grovelin’ and beggin’ to let herself back into my life. Yet for a time...I was tempted by her offer. It seemed like an eternity, like time itself seemed to slow down and leave me with another fork in the road.
After what she’s done to me in the past...the choice I made was rather simple enough.”
“Ya know Lindsey…,” James said, shaking his head and thorougly rejecting the offer. “I can’t believe you’re willin’ to bring this innocent l’il kid into a place like this and let her see another human’ bein’ get treated the way you’re treatin’ me...leavin’ him sufferin’, helpless...no wonder why you’ve had 48 boyfriends. You’ve manipulated ‘em, treated ‘em like dirt all your life yet you wanna think you’ve got the moral high ground and act as if ya did nothin’ wrong.”
“What of it?! Accident or self-defense, I don’t give a shit--I ain’t the one who sat there and killed a man!,” she sneered as Hannah quietly watched from a distance. “From the time Hannah was born, she was taught about sinners and how they should be punished for their transgression!”
“She might have an imagination that’s full of hopes and dreams, but I want you to know that if Hannah don’t get to know the dirty l’il secret you’ve been hidin’ from her, a SIN on its own merit, her SOUL will be empty. And deep down...I know she don't wanna have to live out her biggest dreams like that,” Gilmore countered.
Lindsey’s face turned beet red, but she didn’t choose to use the taser gadget on her victim. Instead....a single punch from her right hand knocked him to the concrete floor.
“Don’t you DARE speak to me about her like that again, you miserable GOAT-FUCKIN’ SON-OF-A-BITCH! NOT IN THIS ROOM, NOT ANYWHERE!!,” she screamed, her teeth snarling like a dog ready to strike.
“When l’il kids learn it’s a good idea to demean and be bullies to other people, they can do so to anyone--includin’ their parents,” James said as he struggled to get to his feet, favoring the side of his jaw. Lindsey kicked him in the ribs with her stiletto heel, doubling him over in pain.
“Small words! From a small, narrow-minded man that’s too GODDAMN ARROGANT to even think about ‘family,’” she lectured on with a stern tone. “I’m the ONLY ONE SHE’S GOT LEFT MOTHERFUCKER! Her DADDY got himself blown up doin’ some stupid drug raid with the Feds when I was pregnant with her!”
“Yeahhh...some REAL role model you really are to the one that tells ya ‘I love you’ before goin’ to bed at night or goin’ to school every day. Sayin’ all these bad words that take the Lord’s name in vain, zappin’ me with the taser, punchin’ me in the face, kickin’ me while I’m down..,” he gasped for air while trying to pull himself up to a single knee. “When she gets to bein' a grown-up herself she’s gonna be thinkin’ of nothin’ else--,” he spoke before being cut off mid-sentence by Lindsey as she armed the taser and pointed it directly at him.
“I’m WARNIN’ you! I won’t even send a goon to kill you like the LAST time ‘cuz I’ll do it MYSELF!!”
“Noooo...Mommy!?!,” Hannah cried, her mother’s own sin being let out of the bag inadvertently. She turned to see her daughter showing the first signs of fright before spitting on Gilmore's prone form in disgust. James, as dogged as he could be, pulled himself back together and to his feet--all the while at taserpoint.
“Pfffft riiiiiight...how’d that work for you the LAST time, huh? But ya know, in spite of everything you’ve done to me in front of that sweetheart l’il girl...I understand your loss, I understand that you were wantin’ to spend the rest of your life with him and keep yourself grounded. He died doin’ he loved, what he wanted to do--servin’ his country, protectin’ the people--but don’t disgrace his memory like this! Don’t let a shinin’ light that’s your daughter be extinguished into darkness!
Don't be usin' your grief as a justification of bein' the person you are now--you can CHANGE! All ya gotta do...is try, that's all!”
“James, I ain’t gonna count to one--much less three! You will shut the FUCK up or I’ll have Hannah sing you a lullaby!”
“AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!,” James laughed hysterically, pointing at Hannah’s mother while his smile grew wider by the second. “You called me ‘James’! WHO’S THE ONE THAT CRACKED NOW!?!”
Lindsey shot him with the taser, and he fell to the deck and screamed in agony through the thirty-second ride. “How many Coke cans are there--ANSWER ME!?!,” she questioned with a maniacal, demonic expression on her face.
“THREE!!!!,” James shouted as his torturer pulled the trigger a second time.
“FOUR! THERE ARE FOUR!! HOW MANY DO YOU FUCKIN’ SEE NOW!?!,” she screamed, watching as her former boss writhed in suffering and pain. She pulled the trigger twice more, creating a seemingly interminable shock that lasted well over a minute.
Her daughter watched in horror before running to the desk and hiding underneath it.
“Hannah...look at what you’re doin’ to her! You...you’re...SCARIN’ HER!!,” James stuttered as the voltage continued to run through his body, causing his arms and legs to convulse. “Look at yourself...you’re S-S-S-SIX YEARS OLD...too w-w-w-weak TO BE HER G-G-G-G-GUIDIN’ LIGHT!! YOU...C-C-CANNOT...HURT MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!”
Lindsey’s brows perked up, amazed by her former boss’s extraordinary defiance. For the most part, James was running on nothing else except pure adrenaline, the electrical surges coarsing through his veins as he struggled mightily to bring himself back to his hands and knees.
She disarmed the taser and slammed it to the ground, destroying it--but she wasn’t done yet. “You’re right...I can’t hurt you. I’ll have THEM kill you instead,” she said. Yet when she pointed over to her twin thugs, she gritted her teeth in utter dissatisfaction: her guards were too distracted watching GLOW to even bother to know what was going on in the old death chamber.
She had no choice but to do the deed herself.
Reaching into one of the inside pockets of her winter jacket, she pulled out a gleaming silver pistol and loaded the one bullet she had into its chamber. James, on his hands and knees, was crawling on the ground on all fours as he looked up at his tormentor, staring right into the barrel of her short-range, old-style Derringer.
James Gilmore was dead to rights. He screamed out wildly at his captor...
"THERE…ARE…THREE COKE CANS!!!
...just as Hannah diiid the same thing...
“MOMMY, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!”
...and raced towards her mother with a head-full of steam, knocking her off-balance and causing the pistol to discharge its one round.
BANG!!!
The rounded piece of lead ricocheted off the concrete floor and struck James in the right eye. Taking the gunshot as a signal, the two bodyguards immediately fled for their lives amidst the cacophony of wraith-like screams. Yet Gilmore never truly “saw” what was about to happen next…
…for at that precise moment, he fell into a state of unconsciousness as all hell would break loose.
”The bad news: I passed out due to me losin’ a ton of blood from my right eye without bein’ able to witness pandemonium unfold.
The good news: I didn’t want to hear the second bang of a stun grenade go off, nor did I wish to see FBI folks whisk me and Hannah to safety and start the process of puttin’ people in cuffs.
The best news of all: no one died...except for Lindsey’s hopes of ever gettin’ out on parole with a laundry list of new charges--includin’ torture and skippin’ bail.
Honestly...I dunno if God had a hand on me or if it was accidental, but I survived nonetheless.
I wasn’t there to see it...but when I woke up in the hospital after surgery, I heard them two MS-13 goons cried like itty bitty babies when the Feds stormed in and took ‘em away. Lindsey was too stunned to even put up a fight, too shaken to ever realize that her own daughter--of all people--knocked her to the floor as the agents rushed in.
It was all over--but the damage was done.
On a personal note, I’d like to think that the last thing that went through Lindsey’s head--other than bein’ read her miranda rights for a second time--was to wonder how the hell did I manage to get the best of her. The silver linin’ for her? At least she made it back to the pokey in time for the annual inmate Christmas gift exchange.
The cost was great--I lost my right eye, I lost my dignity...I had hit rock bottom.
I had to learn a valuable lesson on the dangers of bein’ a dickweed to everyone.
Deep down in my soul...I owed Hannah--that loving, honest l’il kid who did an incredibly brave thing against all odds--my own life. The only way to go from here was up--at least, that is what I'll learn from her goin' forward.
After all...the trial by fire never ends.“
TO BE CONCLUDED…
======
Rock bottom.
The lowest point of life itself.
For the last five months, I’ve endured a livin’ hell the likes of which I never imagined, worse than any NIGHTMARE I ever dreamed. For that stretch of time...I had to face the consequences of bein’ the dude I was within the course of a year, a year that a part of me wishes that I can forget now that I’m thinkin’ about it. Yet like all other things in life, ya have to learn how to live with the mistakes ya made and not compound things even further by lookin’ for self-pity or self-torture.
And I wasn’t strong enough mentally to handle the screw-ups I made.
The world could say...I had a crummy year of 2017.
They'd be right on the money.
Spike Kane once tried to kill me in January of last year….and the rest of the world gave him a free pass and hailed him as a hero based on name recognition--and I felt sick and disgusted. I accidentally took a would-be assassin’s life while tryin’ to save another human bein’, my FRIEND...and the world scorns me for it and calls ME a villian--and to this day I STILL feel sick and disgusted. Yet when I think about everything I’ve been through within the course of a full year, the things that pop into my mind are short and sweet:
I chose the wrong path, turned right when I should’ve turned left.
I trusted the wrong people, without ever bein’ fruitful enough to question their motives.
So comin’ into 2018 I’ve found myself payin’ a SUPREME price for everything stupid I did, for bein’ the moron I was instead of dreamin’ to do the right thing. I’ve lost an eye, lost my dignity through bein’ tortured, and most important of all...I lost part of my soul--the very thing that forged a love for this sport I’ve had ALL MY LIFE, the love that allowed me to chronicle Jack Gaither’s 2010 Asia tour back in the indies. Now I find myself thinkin’ ‘gee, how can I possibly manage to rediscover my passion for the gig and do it right for once?!’
In theory, the answer would be simple enough: win the Roulette against 29 other men.
In practice, when those same 29 are gonna be gunnin’ for my keister...that’s easier said than done.
Oh I’ve heard the lectures before, from the Mike Laszlos, Spike Kanes, or even the Bertie Veronas, and they’ll all shout to the skies above about how they’ve been to the top of the mountain yet have always been Roulette bridesmaids in the past. I’ve heard plenty of first-timers like Dean Harper, who would rather use torture and evil spirits as tools to get over on me and prove to the world how strong his pain cult really is when they’re all together like a big, happy family. Truth be told, it doesn’t make them dudes any less dangerous than, say, a Caleb Lockwood, a Jason Sandman, a Nate Harris or even a Nighthawk.
Nahhh...it makes ‘em EQUALLY dangerous. ‘Nuff said.
I know that I’m gonna have one helluva task ahead of me, takin’ on all these dudes with nobody to help me along the way. ‘Cuz when that bell rings, and the battle begins...there ain’t gonna be no such things as ‘families.’ There ain’t gonna be such things is even friends or buddies. It’s gonna be every man for himself, dog eat dog, survival of the fittest. When I step inside, no matter my draw, and look at each and every dude squarely in the eyes, I’m gonna find out that they’re ALL gonna do what they can to throw me outta there without lettin’ their own egos get in the way.
After all...it’s gonna be me against them.
James Gilmore vs. The Imperial World.
They can point at me and tell me I’m a weaklin’, but they can bet their BUTTS that I won’t be no easy pushover. They can lecture me on the stupid stuff I did in the past, but I’m gonna show THEM what “dare to dream” is truly all about by puttin’ myself through the never-endin’ trial by fire. They can laugh at me all they want to, but they need to do so at their own peril ‘cuz I’m the LAST dude they ever expected to come back into IWF after the year I had last year!
This year, 2018? Hoo-boy, the world is gonna be in for the biggest “eff you” in wrestlin’ since Bertie screwed Jake Conway two years ago at Night of the Immortals.
This is MY chance to blow up the whole dang system and laugh in all the faces of those who’ve EVER tormented me!
This is MY MOMENT...to choose the right path and make the greatest and most IMPROBABLE COMEBACK in IWF history happen!
This is the beginning of MY JOURNEY towards doin’ what the world tells me I just can’t do: becomin’ World champ!
The highest point of life itself.
Immortality.
#D2D
You've got a way to fall
They'll tell you where to go
But they won't know
Son
You'd better take it all
They'll tell you what they know
But they won't show
Oh,
I’ve got somethin’ in my throat
I need to be alone
While I suffer…”
Journal Entry #9 - “Way to Fall”
December 16, 2017 - 8:45 AM (Day 4)
”Oh man...I’m still alive, ain’t I?
‘Cuz I sure as snot don’t feel that way.
The torture continued on, with Lindsey doin’ everything she could to make me buckle under the pressure. Yet through it all my thoughts were on Yulia, and perhaps...she was the real reason why I chose to keep my mental strength intact even though I was bein’ put through hell. Yet thinkin’ about it now, I could only come to one realization that flashed through my mind as 25,000 volts coarsed through my body from Lindsey’s taser.
This was all my own doin’.
It was my fault that I let my soul decay, which led to Lindsey comin’ into my life, which ultimately led to the accident last October.
I can’t do nothin’ to change that.
This was my punishment for doin’ all things stupid. I shut the other good people out and let the bad ones in. After all without Yulia, the only “good” gal in my life that loved me for who I was, I felt I was truly alone. I had nobody else to talk to, nobody else to care for...and I truly believed that nobody would even wanna care for ME--an old, haggard man with one eye with nothin’ else in my life except for broken dreams and empty promises.
I didn’t wanna be scared no more. I wanted to travel back in time to when things made sense. But I couldn’t...and I felt a pain much worse than my old manager’s sadism and torture.
All I wanted was a light--any light--to help me figure my way out of this mess.
When the fourth day started, I awoke to a big surprise. No Lindsey, a goon that was more interested in watchin’ GLOW on Netflix than anything else goin’ on, and a cheerful young gal that reminded me of….well ya know, me when I was a certain age…”
“Allamaraine, count to four
Allamaraine, then three more
Allamaraine, if you can see
Allamaraine, you’ll come with me…”
James Gilmore, strapped to the gurney inside the old prison death chamber, could only turn his head and watch as a little girl, sporting blonde pigtails and a red dress, pretended to play hopscotch on the concrete floor while singing the infamous rhyme from the Deep Space Nine first season episode “Move Along Home.” In spite of the fact that he didn’t particularly care for the episode in question, often saying it was the worst in the series, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Perhaps, he thought, the gal was a Trekkie just like him, and it made him feel somewhat comfortable after being tortured with Lindsey Grawn’s taser the last couple of days.
The girl stopped singing, giggling as she observed James struggle to move his arms and legs. “You’re awake!,” she squealed, prompting James to nod silently--unsure whether or not she was leading him into a trap. “Mommy says she had to do some grown-up things before coming back here.”
“I...I didn’t know she was your mom, but I really don’t think it’s a good thing for any mom to bring a kid to a sad, scary place like this…,” he said with a groggy sigh. “May I ask how old you are?”
“Six,” she replied. Gilmore’s face turned into a deep, dark frown. He had no idea that Lindsey even had a daughter to begin with, much less a reason as to why the former campaign manager would EVER want to bring a child to the very scene of his torture. Yet to spite his predicament, he began to recall a memory of watching the show when he was young.
“And I suppose you got that rhyme from Star Trek,” he said with a slight grin. “I started watchin’ it when I was your age. I...grew up with it--it’s my favorite show too.”
“I like the one with the BIIIIIIIG fish!,” she spoke excitedly. James laughed out loud, understanding the reference. Yet he didn’t want to remind her that, in Star Trek IV, whales weren’t exactly “fish” as said by Gillian Taylor, played by Catherine Hicks in the film. As he continued to laugh, the girl cautiously approached the table to check out James’ scars on his face…
...and she widened her hazel eyes in shock over what this “grown-up” has been subjected to in his life.
“Mommy says you did a really bad thing,” the girl intoned with a slight frown. “But...you don’t sound like a really bad grown-up.”
James perked up his right brow in disbelief. He didn’t ask for--much less deserve--any sympathy from anyone in particular. Yet in his heart...he began to realize that, perhaps, she was trying to help HIM rediscover the man he once was prior to her mom's arrival into his own life.
The lone guard in the room didn’t even seem to care--he was still focused on watching GLOW on his tablet.
“If you push the l’il green button on that wall panel over there...you’ll untie me from this bed,” he spoke softly, like a gentle father whose only goal in mind was to prevent his child from feeling frightened. “And I’ll tell ya what I did--I promise.”
”My mom once told me: ‘don’t ever make promises you can’t keep.’
Lindsey would always say: ‘promises be fucked up the ass.’
Trouble is, as I watched the l’il tyke dutifully prance on over to that console and released my restraints, my mind started to become conflicted, poisoned with many thoughts on what I would have done...versus what I SHOULD do. The “old” guy I was, that hateful persona, would follow Lindsey’s advice to the letter--without question. Yet when I saw the look on her daughter’s face upon wakin' up--that priceless, joyful smile that was full of love and life--it was at that moment in time, in my darkest hour, that I started to put the pieces together and figure out the one thing I always wanted to be more than anything else:
A dreamer.
Even though I kept askin' myself 'who the hell would ever wanna talk to me?'
All she wanted to do...was be my friend, to lend me her ear. In spite of her mom’s mind games, it was the kid’s decision to even laugh at me--I couldn’t make it for her. Yet I didn’t know how I was gonna be able to explain the events of that fateful October day without scarin’ her to tears.
I had to do the best I could--nothin’ more, nothin’ less.
While keepin’ a reasonable and safe distance yet close enough for her to hear me, we sat down on the cold concrete--a moment in time in which the past met the future, in which a haggard freak of a man was bein’ mentored by an honest, lovin’ child that didn’t wanna see anyone suffer. I couldn’t break the word I’d given her. Otherwise I’d risk a punishment that would’ve been far worse than simply bein’ tortured.
That was a risk I wasn’t willin’ to take…”
“I...made a grown-up die by accident…,” James said with a deep sigh. “I was buildin’ sandcastles on my own beach at my house with my best friend, and a bad guy came over without knockin’ and tried to do bad things to us. I...tried to do a good thing by grabbin’ the bad guy’s gun, helpin’ out my friend ‘cuz I didn’t want nobody to make him die. And…”
Hanna listened intently, wondering how a man who was only trying to defend another life could end up suffering and seemingly powerless to stop it. She had an unconditional love for her mother, as all kids would do at her age, but deep down in her soul...she sensed that, perhaps, Gilmore had a heart yet didn't think of himself as 'perfect.'
To her, he was a grown-up that made mistakes which led to his current situatioon.
James paused for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts as he found himself at a crossroads. How, as he would ponder, should he explain to this little girl that her own mother was the one that wanted him dead to begin with. Just before he could spill his guts even further, the steel door to the old death house swung open and slammed against the wall.
Lindsey, with taser in hand along with the other thug, power-walked in with a smile on her face. “Good mornin’ baby doll. I hope ya slept well.”
“Yeah, tell me about bein’ strapped to a bed all night…,” James intoned softly. He was tired from an overall lack of sleep, but he was still standing tall against his captors.
“I see you’ve been gettin’ to know my daughter Hannah,” Lindsey spoke with just a slight hint of contempt in her tone. “She’s on her first day of Winter Break at school and can’t wait for Santa to come, right Hanna-Banana?!”
“Yep!,” Hannah squealed excitedly. Her mother then motioned for her to stand next to the pedestal with the three Coca-Cola cans, and as she did so dutifully, the mind games resumed in earnest.
“Alrighty--shall we try again? How many Coke cans do ya see?,” the former manager quizzed.
Yet at this point in time, James’ focus wasn’t on the drink cans. It was on the young kindergartner who was an unwilling witness to her own mother’s actions. “...what Coke cans?,” he snarled defiantly, bracing himself to be zapped with the 25,000-volt Taser Pulse in an instant…
...but in a surprising twist, Lindsey restrained herself.
“Think about it for a moment…,” she said, placing her thumb on the gadget’s safety switch while sauntering up to her old employer in a last-ditch attempt to work her seductive magic. “You let me back into your life and I’ll give you all the comfort and lovin’ in the world. We can put our differences aside, I won’t rag you about puttin’ my sweet Roberto six feet under, I won’t do nothin’ to Mikhail...you’ll have the greatest existence known to man.”
”Wow...never in a zillion years did I ever imagine Lindsey Grawn grovelin’ and beggin’ to let herself back into my life. Yet for a time...I was tempted by her offer. It seemed like an eternity, like time itself seemed to slow down and leave me with another fork in the road.
After what she’s done to me in the past...the choice I made was rather simple enough.”
“Ya know Lindsey…,” James said, shaking his head and thorougly rejecting the offer. “I can’t believe you’re willin’ to bring this innocent l’il kid into a place like this and let her see another human’ bein’ get treated the way you’re treatin’ me...leavin’ him sufferin’, helpless...no wonder why you’ve had 48 boyfriends. You’ve manipulated ‘em, treated ‘em like dirt all your life yet you wanna think you’ve got the moral high ground and act as if ya did nothin’ wrong.”
“What of it?! Accident or self-defense, I don’t give a shit--I ain’t the one who sat there and killed a man!,” she sneered as Hannah quietly watched from a distance. “From the time Hannah was born, she was taught about sinners and how they should be punished for their transgression!”
“She might have an imagination that’s full of hopes and dreams, but I want you to know that if Hannah don’t get to know the dirty l’il secret you’ve been hidin’ from her, a SIN on its own merit, her SOUL will be empty. And deep down...I know she don't wanna have to live out her biggest dreams like that,” Gilmore countered.
Lindsey’s face turned beet red, but she didn’t choose to use the taser gadget on her victim. Instead....a single punch from her right hand knocked him to the concrete floor.
“Don’t you DARE speak to me about her like that again, you miserable GOAT-FUCKIN’ SON-OF-A-BITCH! NOT IN THIS ROOM, NOT ANYWHERE!!,” she screamed, her teeth snarling like a dog ready to strike.
“When l’il kids learn it’s a good idea to demean and be bullies to other people, they can do so to anyone--includin’ their parents,” James said as he struggled to get to his feet, favoring the side of his jaw. Lindsey kicked him in the ribs with her stiletto heel, doubling him over in pain.
“Small words! From a small, narrow-minded man that’s too GODDAMN ARROGANT to even think about ‘family,’” she lectured on with a stern tone. “I’m the ONLY ONE SHE’S GOT LEFT MOTHERFUCKER! Her DADDY got himself blown up doin’ some stupid drug raid with the Feds when I was pregnant with her!”
“Yeahhh...some REAL role model you really are to the one that tells ya ‘I love you’ before goin’ to bed at night or goin’ to school every day. Sayin’ all these bad words that take the Lord’s name in vain, zappin’ me with the taser, punchin’ me in the face, kickin’ me while I’m down..,” he gasped for air while trying to pull himself up to a single knee. “When she gets to bein' a grown-up herself she’s gonna be thinkin’ of nothin’ else--,” he spoke before being cut off mid-sentence by Lindsey as she armed the taser and pointed it directly at him.
“I’m WARNIN’ you! I won’t even send a goon to kill you like the LAST time ‘cuz I’ll do it MYSELF!!”
“Noooo...Mommy!?!,” Hannah cried, her mother’s own sin being let out of the bag inadvertently. She turned to see her daughter showing the first signs of fright before spitting on Gilmore's prone form in disgust. James, as dogged as he could be, pulled himself back together and to his feet--all the while at taserpoint.
“Pfffft riiiiiight...how’d that work for you the LAST time, huh? But ya know, in spite of everything you’ve done to me in front of that sweetheart l’il girl...I understand your loss, I understand that you were wantin’ to spend the rest of your life with him and keep yourself grounded. He died doin’ he loved, what he wanted to do--servin’ his country, protectin’ the people--but don’t disgrace his memory like this! Don’t let a shinin’ light that’s your daughter be extinguished into darkness!
Don't be usin' your grief as a justification of bein' the person you are now--you can CHANGE! All ya gotta do...is try, that's all!”
“James, I ain’t gonna count to one--much less three! You will shut the FUCK up or I’ll have Hannah sing you a lullaby!”
“AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!,” James laughed hysterically, pointing at Hannah’s mother while his smile grew wider by the second. “You called me ‘James’! WHO’S THE ONE THAT CRACKED NOW!?!”
Lindsey shot him with the taser, and he fell to the deck and screamed in agony through the thirty-second ride. “How many Coke cans are there--ANSWER ME!?!,” she questioned with a maniacal, demonic expression on her face.
“THREE!!!!,” James shouted as his torturer pulled the trigger a second time.
“FOUR! THERE ARE FOUR!! HOW MANY DO YOU FUCKIN’ SEE NOW!?!,” she screamed, watching as her former boss writhed in suffering and pain. She pulled the trigger twice more, creating a seemingly interminable shock that lasted well over a minute.
Her daughter watched in horror before running to the desk and hiding underneath it.
“Hannah...look at what you’re doin’ to her! You...you’re...SCARIN’ HER!!,” James stuttered as the voltage continued to run through his body, causing his arms and legs to convulse. “Look at yourself...you’re S-S-S-SIX YEARS OLD...too w-w-w-weak TO BE HER G-G-G-G-GUIDIN’ LIGHT!! YOU...C-C-CANNOT...HURT MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!”
Lindsey’s brows perked up, amazed by her former boss’s extraordinary defiance. For the most part, James was running on nothing else except pure adrenaline, the electrical surges coarsing through his veins as he struggled mightily to bring himself back to his hands and knees.
She disarmed the taser and slammed it to the ground, destroying it--but she wasn’t done yet. “You’re right...I can’t hurt you. I’ll have THEM kill you instead,” she said. Yet when she pointed over to her twin thugs, she gritted her teeth in utter dissatisfaction: her guards were too distracted watching GLOW to even bother to know what was going on in the old death chamber.
She had no choice but to do the deed herself.
Reaching into one of the inside pockets of her winter jacket, she pulled out a gleaming silver pistol and loaded the one bullet she had into its chamber. James, on his hands and knees, was crawling on the ground on all fours as he looked up at his tormentor, staring right into the barrel of her short-range, old-style Derringer.
James Gilmore was dead to rights. He screamed out wildly at his captor...
"THERE…ARE…THREE COKE CANS!!!
...just as Hannah diiid the same thing...
“MOMMY, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!”
...and raced towards her mother with a head-full of steam, knocking her off-balance and causing the pistol to discharge its one round.
BANG!!!
The rounded piece of lead ricocheted off the concrete floor and struck James in the right eye. Taking the gunshot as a signal, the two bodyguards immediately fled for their lives amidst the cacophony of wraith-like screams. Yet Gilmore never truly “saw” what was about to happen next…
…for at that precise moment, he fell into a state of unconsciousness as all hell would break loose.
”The bad news: I passed out due to me losin’ a ton of blood from my right eye without bein’ able to witness pandemonium unfold.
The good news: I didn’t want to hear the second bang of a stun grenade go off, nor did I wish to see FBI folks whisk me and Hannah to safety and start the process of puttin’ people in cuffs.
The best news of all: no one died...except for Lindsey’s hopes of ever gettin’ out on parole with a laundry list of new charges--includin’ torture and skippin’ bail.
Honestly...I dunno if God had a hand on me or if it was accidental, but I survived nonetheless.
I wasn’t there to see it...but when I woke up in the hospital after surgery, I heard them two MS-13 goons cried like itty bitty babies when the Feds stormed in and took ‘em away. Lindsey was too stunned to even put up a fight, too shaken to ever realize that her own daughter--of all people--knocked her to the floor as the agents rushed in.
It was all over--but the damage was done.
On a personal note, I’d like to think that the last thing that went through Lindsey’s head--other than bein’ read her miranda rights for a second time--was to wonder how the hell did I manage to get the best of her. The silver linin’ for her? At least she made it back to the pokey in time for the annual inmate Christmas gift exchange.
The cost was great--I lost my right eye, I lost my dignity...I had hit rock bottom.
I had to learn a valuable lesson on the dangers of bein’ a dickweed to everyone.
Deep down in my soul...I owed Hannah--that loving, honest l’il kid who did an incredibly brave thing against all odds--my own life. The only way to go from here was up--at least, that is what I'll learn from her goin' forward.
After all...the trial by fire never ends.“
TO BE CONCLUDED…
======
Rock bottom.
The lowest point of life itself.
For the last five months, I’ve endured a livin’ hell the likes of which I never imagined, worse than any NIGHTMARE I ever dreamed. For that stretch of time...I had to face the consequences of bein’ the dude I was within the course of a year, a year that a part of me wishes that I can forget now that I’m thinkin’ about it. Yet like all other things in life, ya have to learn how to live with the mistakes ya made and not compound things even further by lookin’ for self-pity or self-torture.
And I wasn’t strong enough mentally to handle the screw-ups I made.
The world could say...I had a crummy year of 2017.
They'd be right on the money.
Spike Kane once tried to kill me in January of last year….and the rest of the world gave him a free pass and hailed him as a hero based on name recognition--and I felt sick and disgusted. I accidentally took a would-be assassin’s life while tryin’ to save another human bein’, my FRIEND...and the world scorns me for it and calls ME a villian--and to this day I STILL feel sick and disgusted. Yet when I think about everything I’ve been through within the course of a full year, the things that pop into my mind are short and sweet:
I chose the wrong path, turned right when I should’ve turned left.
I trusted the wrong people, without ever bein’ fruitful enough to question their motives.
So comin’ into 2018 I’ve found myself payin’ a SUPREME price for everything stupid I did, for bein’ the moron I was instead of dreamin’ to do the right thing. I’ve lost an eye, lost my dignity through bein’ tortured, and most important of all...I lost part of my soul--the very thing that forged a love for this sport I’ve had ALL MY LIFE, the love that allowed me to chronicle Jack Gaither’s 2010 Asia tour back in the indies. Now I find myself thinkin’ ‘gee, how can I possibly manage to rediscover my passion for the gig and do it right for once?!’
In theory, the answer would be simple enough: win the Roulette against 29 other men.
In practice, when those same 29 are gonna be gunnin’ for my keister...that’s easier said than done.
Oh I’ve heard the lectures before, from the Mike Laszlos, Spike Kanes, or even the Bertie Veronas, and they’ll all shout to the skies above about how they’ve been to the top of the mountain yet have always been Roulette bridesmaids in the past. I’ve heard plenty of first-timers like Dean Harper, who would rather use torture and evil spirits as tools to get over on me and prove to the world how strong his pain cult really is when they’re all together like a big, happy family. Truth be told, it doesn’t make them dudes any less dangerous than, say, a Caleb Lockwood, a Jason Sandman, a Nate Harris or even a Nighthawk.
Nahhh...it makes ‘em EQUALLY dangerous. ‘Nuff said.
I know that I’m gonna have one helluva task ahead of me, takin’ on all these dudes with nobody to help me along the way. ‘Cuz when that bell rings, and the battle begins...there ain’t gonna be no such things as ‘families.’ There ain’t gonna be such things is even friends or buddies. It’s gonna be every man for himself, dog eat dog, survival of the fittest. When I step inside, no matter my draw, and look at each and every dude squarely in the eyes, I’m gonna find out that they’re ALL gonna do what they can to throw me outta there without lettin’ their own egos get in the way.
After all...it’s gonna be me against them.
James Gilmore vs. The Imperial World.
They can point at me and tell me I’m a weaklin’, but they can bet their BUTTS that I won’t be no easy pushover. They can lecture me on the stupid stuff I did in the past, but I’m gonna show THEM what “dare to dream” is truly all about by puttin’ myself through the never-endin’ trial by fire. They can laugh at me all they want to, but they need to do so at their own peril ‘cuz I’m the LAST dude they ever expected to come back into IWF after the year I had last year!
This year, 2018? Hoo-boy, the world is gonna be in for the biggest “eff you” in wrestlin’ since Bertie screwed Jake Conway two years ago at Night of the Immortals.
This is MY chance to blow up the whole dang system and laugh in all the faces of those who’ve EVER tormented me!
This is MY MOMENT...to choose the right path and make the greatest and most IMPROBABLE COMEBACK in IWF history happen!
This is the beginning of MY JOURNEY towards doin’ what the world tells me I just can’t do: becomin’ World champ!
The highest point of life itself.
Immortality.
#D2D
Well howdy there pardner.