Post by James Gilmore on Mar 19, 2018 15:23:58 GMT
Journal Entry #10 - “‘Til We Meet Again”
March 18, 2018 - 5:00 PM
Hours after the Skype call with Thaddeus...
”It’s been a little over two months since I was tortured, since I went through hell and lived to tell the tale.
Yet it feels like an eternity.
I’m not comin’ along too well in my mind. While I have enjoyed livin’ and trainin’ at the Palace, it seems as if...the whole concept of spilln’ blood in violent bloodsports every day has started triggerin’ some bad vibes in me, vibes that I’m not strong enough to fully suppress. I have moments when I wanna do nothin’ but relish in all the things I’ve done, all the foul and bloodthirsty acts I’ve been subjected to, and so on. It’s not right, it’s not fair…
...that CAN’T be a part of livin’, right?
This is gonna be my last journal entry...at least, for the time bein’, but I want to add this to the record for posterity as well as for Mr. Nash to read. I wish to tell you that Lindsey--as sadistic and vile as she was to me and to my workin’ colleagues--was really genuine about her offer of lettin’ me back into her life, about puttin’ the accidental shootin’ behind me, etc. It was a choice between more sufferin’ and livin’ the rest of my life in bliss with her.
I was tempted by that fork the in the road. All I had to do...was tell her that there were four Coke cans instead of three. The trouble is...I would’ve told her anything. Yeah, you read that right--ANYTHING at all! Yet more than that, I firmly believed that I could see four of 'em.
That's the worst possible outcome I could have ever imagined...”
We find James Gilmore just as he spots his instructor, Mr. Sisko, milling about on the Palace’s outdoor Promenade. It was a cloudy and humid late Sunday afternoon, but Gilmore wasn’t there to discuss pleasantries with the venerable Blue Mage. He had a lot more on his mind than talking about the bracket-busting NCAA tournament.
“Ah Mr. Gilmore! You’re out here on a Sunday,” Sisko said, outstretching his arms. “I was gonna tell you the same thing,” Gilmore replied, gazing his eyes at the gray skies above.
“What can I do for you today,” the instructor asked.
It was at this moment in time when James could only muster a deep sigh, his recent torture still very fresh on his mind. “Mr. Sisko, sir...I formally request that I be placed on leave from all Palace activities until further notice,” he announced. Sisko perked up his left brow for a second before nodding his head. “Request granted,” he responded. “Where will you go from here?”
“My workin’ colleague Fiona McFly has offered me the use of her ranch in Fredericksburg to stay and train,” James intoned, hoping that the getaway might help him suppress whatever negative emotions that might creep into his consciousness.
“You’ve been through a living hell James,” Sisko said, staring at his trainee’s scars closely. “Worse than any nightmare I ever had in my own life.”
James took a deep breath, his eyes looking down upon the mix of concrete and grass, before putting his focus back on Mr. Sisko. He offered his hand to the longtime instructor...
“Thank you sir...for everything. 'Til we meet again.”
...and he did the same thing for Gilmore. The two men clasped hands together in a mutual sense of understanding that the Palace will still be there when the Islander alum was good and ready to return.
“Good luck Mr. Gilmore. I hope you find the peace you’re looking for.”
THE END
March 18, 2018 - 5:00 PM
Hours after the Skype call with Thaddeus...
”It’s been a little over two months since I was tortured, since I went through hell and lived to tell the tale.
Yet it feels like an eternity.
I’m not comin’ along too well in my mind. While I have enjoyed livin’ and trainin’ at the Palace, it seems as if...the whole concept of spilln’ blood in violent bloodsports every day has started triggerin’ some bad vibes in me, vibes that I’m not strong enough to fully suppress. I have moments when I wanna do nothin’ but relish in all the things I’ve done, all the foul and bloodthirsty acts I’ve been subjected to, and so on. It’s not right, it’s not fair…
...that CAN’T be a part of livin’, right?
This is gonna be my last journal entry...at least, for the time bein’, but I want to add this to the record for posterity as well as for Mr. Nash to read. I wish to tell you that Lindsey--as sadistic and vile as she was to me and to my workin’ colleagues--was really genuine about her offer of lettin’ me back into her life, about puttin’ the accidental shootin’ behind me, etc. It was a choice between more sufferin’ and livin’ the rest of my life in bliss with her.
I was tempted by that fork the in the road. All I had to do...was tell her that there were four Coke cans instead of three. The trouble is...I would’ve told her anything. Yeah, you read that right--ANYTHING at all! Yet more than that, I firmly believed that I could see four of 'em.
That's the worst possible outcome I could have ever imagined...”
We find James Gilmore just as he spots his instructor, Mr. Sisko, milling about on the Palace’s outdoor Promenade. It was a cloudy and humid late Sunday afternoon, but Gilmore wasn’t there to discuss pleasantries with the venerable Blue Mage. He had a lot more on his mind than talking about the bracket-busting NCAA tournament.
“Ah Mr. Gilmore! You’re out here on a Sunday,” Sisko said, outstretching his arms. “I was gonna tell you the same thing,” Gilmore replied, gazing his eyes at the gray skies above.
“What can I do for you today,” the instructor asked.
It was at this moment in time when James could only muster a deep sigh, his recent torture still very fresh on his mind. “Mr. Sisko, sir...I formally request that I be placed on leave from all Palace activities until further notice,” he announced. Sisko perked up his left brow for a second before nodding his head. “Request granted,” he responded. “Where will you go from here?”
“My workin’ colleague Fiona McFly has offered me the use of her ranch in Fredericksburg to stay and train,” James intoned, hoping that the getaway might help him suppress whatever negative emotions that might creep into his consciousness.
“You’ve been through a living hell James,” Sisko said, staring at his trainee’s scars closely. “Worse than any nightmare I ever had in my own life.”
James took a deep breath, his eyes looking down upon the mix of concrete and grass, before putting his focus back on Mr. Sisko. He offered his hand to the longtime instructor...
“Thank you sir...for everything. 'Til we meet again.”
...and he did the same thing for Gilmore. The two men clasped hands together in a mutual sense of understanding that the Palace will still be there when the Islander alum was good and ready to return.
“Good luck Mr. Gilmore. I hope you find the peace you’re looking for.”
THE END
Well howdy there pardner.