Post by Eternity on May 24, 2014 23:22:12 GMT
With the all the rampant eagerness of a small excitable child, you see me run, ready to seize my destiny. Ready to change the course of history, ready to define the outcome of that fateful night of November 11th, 2013. To you, I seemed, a little too eager, a little too reckless on that night, but with all the youthful rebellion of a teen determined not to listen, I ran to the Pristine Princess.
She watched me trip, she watched me tumble, out of her world, beyond her reach.
Nobody was there to catch me then, not even you. I was as far beyond your reach as you are mine, my love. Instinctively, you see me land on my knees outside the ring. You flinched. It looked like it hurt, but it didn't. No, really, it didn't hurt. It hadn't hurt, not this fall, not in a long time.
I had fallen many times since, and each time, the hurt was different, not like it used to be. Not like the first time, I remember.
You saw me look back at the ring and reflect on that one moment. You saw what I saw. A small grin. A look of relief. Ana Valentine's ample chest heaved and betrayed her sigh of relief, she had escaped...for now. As we watched that thought settle into the back of her mind for another day, a day far far away from now, we knew, didn't we my love?
I looked at you. You looked at me. And we laughed. Silently. Inwardly. The sense of urgency that gripped her, the stench of desperation, it was as amusing as it was pungent as we watched the little rat scurry for the last piece of cheese now that we had left the door open to the pantry.
Hungrily, we watched her eat, no devour, the moment, the opportunity, almost as if she knew it would not come again. Her hand was raised that night, clearly it meant so much to her, so we let her have her moment, last November didn't we my love?
Yes we did, yes we did.
It was then you saw me look down at my right knee, I cradled it, even as the pain began to fade away. The whale netting of my stocking had done its job, safely protected my flesh from the wounds that otherwise came so naturally from chasing Princesses. This, I had learned long ago.
Every bit as good as his word, daddy did. Daddy always did.
Whispers of somebody else's memories are obscured for you behind wisps of orange smoke as they obscure your senses just long enough to catch up to my heart shaped balloon as it continues to float with you among the clouds, it was a strange sensation, floating away, but as long as the balloon you recognised was here, you had something to hold on to. Something to keep you here in the real world.
The air became thinner, the oxygen more precious the higher up you went, carried by my two toned little heart.
In the midst of some midnight star field, your breath became shallow, your eyes became strained and your vision blurred. Blackness flirted with your senses, mocking your damned dogged determination to hold on to that stupid little girl's balloon.
Let it go. Let it all go.
If you fall, I'll catch you, I promise.
The stars you float among are some of the brightest you have ever seen. You make out a constellation vaguely in the shape of a hard headed ram or goat, you don't really know, you never paid much attention to star signs, but still you knew mine, Capricorn.
It was hard for you to forget that I had been born on the most memorable Eve of every year, the brightest, the most colourful, the most joyous.
The second best time of the whole year.
Reluctantly you are forced to let go of the balloon to save yourself, just as I had been so long ago.
And you fell, but not far, as I was there waiting in the world below you. You crashed through the gates of my dreams and saw me fixated on the antics of a young female trapeze artist, showing off her skills to the world, above me in every sense of the word.
You watched me watch her and then the whispers began.
"Fall. Fall. Fall."
The hurried hushes of my blood lust were infectious.
Fall. Fall. Fall.
Now it was what we both wanted, this is why I love you.
As you leaned in closer next to me, you noticed my eyes were closed. Suddenly they shot open and it was only then that we both became aware of where we were, perhaps where we had always been, in the real world. The quartet of angels sang outside my door.
Purple smoke gathers around me as the bronze larger than life Mother Mary once again births me from my world into yours. You watch me emerge from the Iron Maiden as the four little girls of my most gifted quartet use all their strength to close it behind me, before drifting into the darkness around us.
You see me cock my head, first to the right, then the left, and then straight up again as you see me scratch my pretty blonde hair, streaked with a hot pink as it flows around my shoulders, every bit as scattered and as free as you had always known me to be.
As you look into my piercing green eyes, emeralds set against a beautiful marble complexion, you notice that the little red heart that sat under the sparkle of my right eye, now had a black arrow running through it.
It was a small detail, insignificant to most, but not to you, my love. You always noticed the little things about me. That's why I adore you.
The little blonde tiger in the sky blue dress stepped out of the shadows for a moment to deliver to me Frank's brother, Eddie. The black steel chair which had once hit on Amber Richards as all the boys did, and left her flat on her back after one stiff shot to the face.
Boys will be boys, after all.
You see me caress Eddie's firm steel folds, he loved that.
You see me wave the blonde girl away and she retreats into the shadows.
My, my, my, Ana, we are a angry little bed bug today, aren't we? Why? Why are you so angry, Ana? Did you wake up on the wrong side of whoever's bed you slept in last night? Poor little bear, such a sore head. Has the weight of your pretty little crown gotten a little too much for you, already? It's okay, you can tell me, it will be our little secret, I promise. If you ask nicely, I may even give you something to relieve the pain.
I only have pills mind you, so many pills, all different colours, shapes, sizes and moods. All you have to do is ask, because I'm willing to share. I don't really have a use for them anymore, anyway. They all promised to take my pain away, some did, some didn't, it was all very much dependent on the kind of pain we're talking about here, Ana.
So tell me, sweetie, what kind of pain is that bothers you? Is it a dull consistent ache, or is it a sharp stabbing sensation? Does your skin burn? Do you feel the itch? Whatever it is, I'm sure I have a pill for it around here somewhere.
You see me look around and then back at you.
Oh you don't do so well with pills, do you? But then really, what is the harm? It is only a little one. A teensy weensy itty bitty little one. Surely you can handle that, can't you Ana? I know they can get stuck in your throat sometimes, be a little hard to swallow, a little bitter even, but they're good for you. They're for your own good, that's what my doctors always used to say.
I never believed them of course, but you are not me Ana, you are not me any more than I am you, at least not yet. You're all too ready and all too willing to believe. You want to believe you are cured. You want to believe you have recovered. You want to believe your worst days are well and truly behind you.
Stronger, faster, better, liar!
Stronger, faster, better, liar!
Stronger, faster, better, liar!
How many more times do we have to sing this little ditty Ana, before the fourth bar really sinks in? Before the truth sinks in? The truth you try so hard to escape, to ignore, and to deny? The truth of the fear that burns brighter than any other in those beautiful eyes of yours. Fear that it isn't over. Not yet. Fear that the wounds you've stitched up behind ten pounds of premium gold and five pounds of red leather can and will be ripped away from you one day.
Fear that that day will soon be here, maybe even sooner than you want it to be. I don't want you to be afraid of me Ana, I don't need you to be afraid of me, and that really is the difference between us Ana, you are driven by your wants and held hostage by your needs. You are not free, you never have been and that's why you hate me, isn't it?
You hate me because even though you are sat at the top of the world right now, you are still not happy. And you will never be happy. You will never be as happy or as free as me, you've got the whole world in your hands and still you fall to your knees before the Gods and ask for more. You pray for the kind of happiness and freedom you've seen me enjoy for a whole year now.
I know it is a great comfort to you to think I am nothing more than a dancer to the men who wield a sense of what you comprehend as power, you bow before men, you take in their nectar, all the while hoping it will fulfill you, but it never does, does it, Ana? You hope that if you graze your knees on enough bedroom carpets that eventually the pain you have never truly been able to shut out, will die, will become numb.
The trouble is Ana, I know pain. I know your pain, almost as intimately as I know my own. And it never goes away. Never, ever, ever...
You see me shake my head.
You've seen what my pain, what my hurt, what my tragedies have done to me, and I know it is that which inspires more fear in you than I ever could. You know that you are only ever really one more bad day from dancing in the moonlight with all of your demons as liberally as I do, and that terrifies you.
I'm not going to fight you simply for your belt Ana, no matter how much you wish I would. No matter how much you want me to. No matter how much you need me to keep it that simple. You know if my wants, needs and desires could be neatly wrapped up into something pretty to keep my waist warm on the coldest of nights, just like they can for everybody else in our division, well then you would at least have some hope of baiting me. Of luring me into a fight on your terms.
That is what this Hardcore Rules Match is after all, isn't it Ana? A fight on your terms, a race around your playground.
Miss me, miss me, now you've got to kiss me!
Just like Eddie kissed Amber for me, the kiss of death is the sweetest, because me and Eddie, we're just a couple of swingers around here. It isn't a lifestyle that is for everybody, I will admit, but gosh darn it, it is a hell of a lot of fun!
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
I'm sorry. I know I've got to be serious here. Gold is on the line, after all, I could take it all home with me finally. I could finally be a Princess. Ooooh, isn't it exciting, Eddie?
You see me then kiss the steel chair.
A kiss for good luck. Why thank you, I've had a lot of practice. No, not as much as Amber or Ana. How very dare you sir! What kind of girl do you take me for?
You see me then drop the chair, in utter disgust.
Urgh, chairs! Always so obsessed with the back door, I'm sorry, I just don't know you well enough to think I will just take you home and sit on your face, okay? God! How many shots does it take for them to get the hint, I'm not interested. This is my third, and I'm really not interested Ana! I don't care how much better, how much stronger or how much faster it makes you feel to think of me as insignificant.
I don't doubt that you measure your own significance by being the fucking Diamonds Champion, but don't you dare think you can measure mine, especially when I don't want to be the fucking Diamonds Champion, I don't need to be the fucking Diamonds champion. Especially if the diamond I have to be fucking is you, you haven't bought me dinner first, and that's just rude!
You hear me sigh.
I guess chivalry really is dead. More importantly than that, I know where you've been, and that's just ewww, no thanks!
I just want to be the Diamonds World Champion. That's it. Plain and simple. No fucking involved because I don't need to insert unnecessary expletives to make a statement about who I am. Death never does. Death never announces its arrival or departure. It is silent. Predatory. When it strikes, it changes things forever. Sometimes significant. Sometimes insignificant.
It never looks up. It never looks down. All are equal in my eyes, Ana. You are not special. You are not different. You just look a little prettier with that belt around your waist than the rest of us right now, that does not make you immune to the pressure that comes from carrying the whole world on your shoulders right now.
I think you realise that Ana, I think you know better than you're letting on right now that all that belt is, is a band-aid, all that title is is a bandage you've used to seal up your pain and keep your devils at bay, what happens when it is all ripped away far too quickly? Will you flinch? Will you scream? Will you die?
I don't know. All I know is that you will bleed, as all open wounds do.
It took you two months to force your demons back into some deep, dark corner of your already ravaged mind. It would be nice to believe that they've gone, wouldn't it, Ana? Isn't that why you keep telling everybody you're better now? Who are you trying to convince, Ana? Them? Or yourself? Because you really aren't convincing me, sweetie.
I've lived with my little devils my whole life, so I know a little something about it. Two months of the most intensive therapy, two months in the hands of the best doctors, two months in the arms of the most tender lovers you have ever known, it's nothing. It's too soon. Much too soon. They never go away. They're still here, Ana. They'll always be here for people like us, honey.
I know they are. I hear them in every word they spit using your tongue, and on Sunday, I yearn to see them. That's what I really want Ana, that's what this match is about. I want you to step into the ring, fighting from the opening bell, whether you're fighting to prove me wrong or whether you're fighting to keep your wounds patched up a little longer, it really doesn't matter.
In the end you will realise what I already know. This Hardcore Match is a last ditch effort to maintain control, to get a grip, to have a handle on the future you have never wanted to face. It is all way beyond your control darling, we both know it, the cracks you see in me, are echoes of your own. Echoes of Eternity. I am your future, Ana.
Take a good long look at it, it's only a matter of time before your demons start to colour outside the lines you fight so hard to confine them to, just like mine did. I know you hear your mommy calling to you, because I hear mine too, that's why you want us to scream for you, isn't it Ana? That's why you want me to scream for you. You want me to drown out her voice. You need me to drown out her disappointment. But I can't. I won't.
Not when she's trying so hard to reach you from across the sky. Not when she's trying so hard to bring you home again. All she wants for you Ana is what any mother wants, the best for her child. She wants to help you back to your feet, but you won't let her because you're too afraid, too stubborn and too proud to ask for her help.
If you insist on staying on your knees, clutching that precious Diamonds Championship because we both know the one thing you fear more than the idea of becoming me, it is the idea of becoming irrelevant, then you should also know your stubborn pride has a price. A price even steeper than Eric.
It doesn't matter to me, with or without that title, I am relevant. You cannot say the same. You say so much, yet understand so little here Ana. So little of your own fear, the fear of falling. You are dancing above me now my dear, enjoy it while it lasts, enjoy it as long as I let you. Your fall is coming.
You recall the interrupted dream of the trapeze artist above us as we watched.
The more you recall, the more you concede that she looked like Ana Valentine and suddenly you found yourself wondering how the dream would have ended.
I wondered that too.
I guess we'll both find out on Sunday, won't we my love?
You see yourself as many things, don't you Ana? A God. A resurrection. A Phoenix. The best. By the same token, you see me as so many more things A clown. A freak. Undeserving. Pathetic. Worthless. A joke. So many many labels, so many many words, each one as meaningless as the last. I see us for what we are. Two little girls afraid to let go of what we have let define us.
You could have been a kindred spirit Ana, you could have been my sister, from another mister, you could have been so much more than what you are now. But you're too good for me, aren't you Ana? Everybody's always too good for Eternity. I won't lie, it hurts. It hurts so much to be the outcast. The discounted. The one never given a chance in this match.
You see me then shrug and smile.
Oh well, life goes on, no use crying over spilled blood so I won't. I'm used to it by now. Nobody ever expects Death to strike them down dead, which is why its always much more exciting when its unexpected, spontaneous. Heart stopping. Romantic.
Just like Valentine's Day.
Which won't be this Sunday,
Don't worry guys, relax the pressure's off. This time it really is all on Ana. She has to make our Anniversary special. If she doesn't, I will and then people won't care about how many shots it took me to reach the big top. All they will remember is that I finally did it. I finally made Mommy and Daddy proud. I finally became a Princess. And I did it on the grandest stage of them all, on the most magical night of them all.
The Night Of The Immortals.
It will be like Disneyland all over again.
Only this time I won't let the balloon go on without me, no matter how many times I fall.
I promise you, my love.
Purple smoke carries me away from you as it gathers around me.
For a moment you thought about chasing the me through the smoke.
But you loved me enough to let me chase my dreams alone.
You would see me again soon.
You were certain of it.
She watched me trip, she watched me tumble, out of her world, beyond her reach.
Nobody was there to catch me then, not even you. I was as far beyond your reach as you are mine, my love. Instinctively, you see me land on my knees outside the ring. You flinched. It looked like it hurt, but it didn't. No, really, it didn't hurt. It hadn't hurt, not this fall, not in a long time.
I had fallen many times since, and each time, the hurt was different, not like it used to be. Not like the first time, I remember.
A little blonde girl in a pretty white dress and beautiful red shoes and a pink winged butterfly clipped to the hair in the middle of her forehead, skips. Merrily along, hand in hand with her Daddy, in this strange new world where giant black mice ruled the land. It was her first time in this crazy land of Princesses, sailor suited ducks and goofy looking creatures.
She almost wouldn't have believed it existed if she hadn't been brought here by her mommy and daddy. They really were the best. They could take her anywhere she wanted. They really could. They had already shown her the magic castle, something she had only seen through the confines of so many borders until now.
To be here now, to live if only for a couple of weeks in this glorious world of bright sounds and brighter colours, it really was magical. It really was. It stuck with her. It left an impression as soon as she had skipped through the gates for the first time that day.
The little girl smiled wide at her mother and her eyes sparkled. Mommy returned the smile to her only daughter, only wider, few things filled the human heart more completely than seeing the joy and wonderment reflected in a small child. Mother hoped her only daughter would never lose that spirit, never lose that sense of joy and wonder like she had seen so many lose in her line of work.
The little girl closed her eyes, not to shut out the world, but to feel it. Really feel it. She slipped out of her father's tender grip and twirled, and the sounds carried her away and the colours danced hand in hand, she gave herself entirely to this world of somebody else's imagination.
Her parents watched their angel pirouette away into her own little world, a world where the colours shone even brighter when her eyes were closed. That much they knew, that much they had always known. To them, it was what had made their baby girl so special.
You saw me look back at the ring and reflect on that one moment. You saw what I saw. A small grin. A look of relief. Ana Valentine's ample chest heaved and betrayed her sigh of relief, she had escaped...for now. As we watched that thought settle into the back of her mind for another day, a day far far away from now, we knew, didn't we my love?
I looked at you. You looked at me. And we laughed. Silently. Inwardly. The sense of urgency that gripped her, the stench of desperation, it was as amusing as it was pungent as we watched the little rat scurry for the last piece of cheese now that we had left the door open to the pantry.
Hungrily, we watched her eat, no devour, the moment, the opportunity, almost as if she knew it would not come again. Her hand was raised that night, clearly it meant so much to her, so we let her have her moment, last November didn't we my love?
Yes we did, yes we did.
It was then you saw me look down at my right knee, I cradled it, even as the pain began to fade away. The whale netting of my stocking had done its job, safely protected my flesh from the wounds that otherwise came so naturally from chasing Princesses. This, I had learned long ago.
The young girl's eyes slowly fluttered open again and ahead of her, a Princess waved at her.
"Mommy! Daddy! Look! Look! It's Sleeping Beauty and she's waving at me!"
"We see her, angel, we see her."
They smiled back at her, and with all the youthful unpredictability of a happy little girl, she ran towards the Princess. She was too pretty to ignore and in doing so, the girl's father shook her head as he ran after his daughter, determined not to lose her, not ever. Not here. Not now.
The little girl ran, clutching her pink and silver heart shaped balloon as it floated above her head. The little girl's grip loosened, but not enough to let it slip away from her as she ran to Sleeping Beauty. She tripped over her own shoe as it gave way and slipped, it had never fit very well. She fell and was forced to abandon the tethered balloon to save herself.
It stung as she grazed her right bare knee. She cried out, and then the tears and blood came, pouring forth, unwelcome but inevitable.
The little girl's father father finally reached her as she cradled her knee with both hands. He, in turn cradled her. Her mother caught up with them both.
"What have I told you about running?" asked Mother, sternly.
"Not to," the little girl sobbed. "I'm sorry, Mommy!"
Mother sighed, kids would be kids, she should be disciplined but right now, it was much more important to tend to her daughter's flesh wound.
"Hey, it's okay kiddo, we all fall sometimes, the important thing is that we get back up again, no matter how many times we fall. Can you get up?
The little girl nodded at her father as he helped her up and then he wiped away her tears.
"Come on, let's get back to the hotel and get that booboo sorted, and if we hurry, we can still come back here."
"Really?"
The little girl turned her head expectantly towards her mother.
"Can we Mommy?"
"Only if you promise not to run."
She nodded. It was too good a deal to pass up.
"What about my balloon?"
"I'll get you another one."
Every bit as good as his word, daddy did. Daddy always did.
Whispers of somebody else's memories are obscured for you behind wisps of orange smoke as they obscure your senses just long enough to catch up to my heart shaped balloon as it continues to float with you among the clouds, it was a strange sensation, floating away, but as long as the balloon you recognised was here, you had something to hold on to. Something to keep you here in the real world.
The air became thinner, the oxygen more precious the higher up you went, carried by my two toned little heart.
In the midst of some midnight star field, your breath became shallow, your eyes became strained and your vision blurred. Blackness flirted with your senses, mocking your damned dogged determination to hold on to that stupid little girl's balloon.
Let it go. Let it all go.
If you fall, I'll catch you, I promise.
The stars you float among are some of the brightest you have ever seen. You make out a constellation vaguely in the shape of a hard headed ram or goat, you don't really know, you never paid much attention to star signs, but still you knew mine, Capricorn.
It was hard for you to forget that I had been born on the most memorable Eve of every year, the brightest, the most colourful, the most joyous.
The second best time of the whole year.
Reluctantly you are forced to let go of the balloon to save yourself, just as I had been so long ago.
And you fell, but not far, as I was there waiting in the world below you. You crashed through the gates of my dreams and saw me fixated on the antics of a young female trapeze artist, showing off her skills to the world, above me in every sense of the word.
You watched me watch her and then the whispers began.
"Fall. Fall. Fall."
The hurried hushes of my blood lust were infectious.
Fall. Fall. Fall.
Now it was what we both wanted, this is why I love you.
As you leaned in closer next to me, you noticed my eyes were closed. Suddenly they shot open and it was only then that we both became aware of where we were, perhaps where we had always been, in the real world. The quartet of angels sang outside my door.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high.
Like a diamond in the sky.
Purple smoke gathers around me as the bronze larger than life Mother Mary once again births me from my world into yours. You watch me emerge from the Iron Maiden as the four little girls of my most gifted quartet use all their strength to close it behind me, before drifting into the darkness around us.
You see me cock my head, first to the right, then the left, and then straight up again as you see me scratch my pretty blonde hair, streaked with a hot pink as it flows around my shoulders, every bit as scattered and as free as you had always known me to be.
As you look into my piercing green eyes, emeralds set against a beautiful marble complexion, you notice that the little red heart that sat under the sparkle of my right eye, now had a black arrow running through it.
It was a small detail, insignificant to most, but not to you, my love. You always noticed the little things about me. That's why I adore you.
The little blonde tiger in the sky blue dress stepped out of the shadows for a moment to deliver to me Frank's brother, Eddie. The black steel chair which had once hit on Amber Richards as all the boys did, and left her flat on her back after one stiff shot to the face.
Boys will be boys, after all.
You see me caress Eddie's firm steel folds, he loved that.
You see me wave the blonde girl away and she retreats into the shadows.
My, my, my, Ana, we are a angry little bed bug today, aren't we? Why? Why are you so angry, Ana? Did you wake up on the wrong side of whoever's bed you slept in last night? Poor little bear, such a sore head. Has the weight of your pretty little crown gotten a little too much for you, already? It's okay, you can tell me, it will be our little secret, I promise. If you ask nicely, I may even give you something to relieve the pain.
I only have pills mind you, so many pills, all different colours, shapes, sizes and moods. All you have to do is ask, because I'm willing to share. I don't really have a use for them anymore, anyway. They all promised to take my pain away, some did, some didn't, it was all very much dependent on the kind of pain we're talking about here, Ana.
So tell me, sweetie, what kind of pain is that bothers you? Is it a dull consistent ache, or is it a sharp stabbing sensation? Does your skin burn? Do you feel the itch? Whatever it is, I'm sure I have a pill for it around here somewhere.
You see me look around and then back at you.
Oh you don't do so well with pills, do you? But then really, what is the harm? It is only a little one. A teensy weensy itty bitty little one. Surely you can handle that, can't you Ana? I know they can get stuck in your throat sometimes, be a little hard to swallow, a little bitter even, but they're good for you. They're for your own good, that's what my doctors always used to say.
I never believed them of course, but you are not me Ana, you are not me any more than I am you, at least not yet. You're all too ready and all too willing to believe. You want to believe you are cured. You want to believe you have recovered. You want to believe your worst days are well and truly behind you.
Stronger, faster, better, liar!
Stronger, faster, better, liar!
Stronger, faster, better, liar!
How many more times do we have to sing this little ditty Ana, before the fourth bar really sinks in? Before the truth sinks in? The truth you try so hard to escape, to ignore, and to deny? The truth of the fear that burns brighter than any other in those beautiful eyes of yours. Fear that it isn't over. Not yet. Fear that the wounds you've stitched up behind ten pounds of premium gold and five pounds of red leather can and will be ripped away from you one day.
Fear that that day will soon be here, maybe even sooner than you want it to be. I don't want you to be afraid of me Ana, I don't need you to be afraid of me, and that really is the difference between us Ana, you are driven by your wants and held hostage by your needs. You are not free, you never have been and that's why you hate me, isn't it?
You hate me because even though you are sat at the top of the world right now, you are still not happy. And you will never be happy. You will never be as happy or as free as me, you've got the whole world in your hands and still you fall to your knees before the Gods and ask for more. You pray for the kind of happiness and freedom you've seen me enjoy for a whole year now.
I know it is a great comfort to you to think I am nothing more than a dancer to the men who wield a sense of what you comprehend as power, you bow before men, you take in their nectar, all the while hoping it will fulfill you, but it never does, does it, Ana? You hope that if you graze your knees on enough bedroom carpets that eventually the pain you have never truly been able to shut out, will die, will become numb.
The trouble is Ana, I know pain. I know your pain, almost as intimately as I know my own. And it never goes away. Never, ever, ever...
You see me shake my head.
You've seen what my pain, what my hurt, what my tragedies have done to me, and I know it is that which inspires more fear in you than I ever could. You know that you are only ever really one more bad day from dancing in the moonlight with all of your demons as liberally as I do, and that terrifies you.
I'm not going to fight you simply for your belt Ana, no matter how much you wish I would. No matter how much you want me to. No matter how much you need me to keep it that simple. You know if my wants, needs and desires could be neatly wrapped up into something pretty to keep my waist warm on the coldest of nights, just like they can for everybody else in our division, well then you would at least have some hope of baiting me. Of luring me into a fight on your terms.
That is what this Hardcore Rules Match is after all, isn't it Ana? A fight on your terms, a race around your playground.
Miss me, miss me, now you've got to kiss me!
Just like Eddie kissed Amber for me, the kiss of death is the sweetest, because me and Eddie, we're just a couple of swingers around here. It isn't a lifestyle that is for everybody, I will admit, but gosh darn it, it is a hell of a lot of fun!
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
I'm sorry. I know I've got to be serious here. Gold is on the line, after all, I could take it all home with me finally. I could finally be a Princess. Ooooh, isn't it exciting, Eddie?
You see me then kiss the steel chair.
A kiss for good luck. Why thank you, I've had a lot of practice. No, not as much as Amber or Ana. How very dare you sir! What kind of girl do you take me for?
You see me then drop the chair, in utter disgust.
Urgh, chairs! Always so obsessed with the back door, I'm sorry, I just don't know you well enough to think I will just take you home and sit on your face, okay? God! How many shots does it take for them to get the hint, I'm not interested. This is my third, and I'm really not interested Ana! I don't care how much better, how much stronger or how much faster it makes you feel to think of me as insignificant.
I don't doubt that you measure your own significance by being the fucking Diamonds Champion, but don't you dare think you can measure mine, especially when I don't want to be the fucking Diamonds Champion, I don't need to be the fucking Diamonds champion. Especially if the diamond I have to be fucking is you, you haven't bought me dinner first, and that's just rude!
You hear me sigh.
I guess chivalry really is dead. More importantly than that, I know where you've been, and that's just ewww, no thanks!
I just want to be the Diamonds World Champion. That's it. Plain and simple. No fucking involved because I don't need to insert unnecessary expletives to make a statement about who I am. Death never does. Death never announces its arrival or departure. It is silent. Predatory. When it strikes, it changes things forever. Sometimes significant. Sometimes insignificant.
It never looks up. It never looks down. All are equal in my eyes, Ana. You are not special. You are not different. You just look a little prettier with that belt around your waist than the rest of us right now, that does not make you immune to the pressure that comes from carrying the whole world on your shoulders right now.
I think you realise that Ana, I think you know better than you're letting on right now that all that belt is, is a band-aid, all that title is is a bandage you've used to seal up your pain and keep your devils at bay, what happens when it is all ripped away far too quickly? Will you flinch? Will you scream? Will you die?
I don't know. All I know is that you will bleed, as all open wounds do.
It took you two months to force your demons back into some deep, dark corner of your already ravaged mind. It would be nice to believe that they've gone, wouldn't it, Ana? Isn't that why you keep telling everybody you're better now? Who are you trying to convince, Ana? Them? Or yourself? Because you really aren't convincing me, sweetie.
I've lived with my little devils my whole life, so I know a little something about it. Two months of the most intensive therapy, two months in the hands of the best doctors, two months in the arms of the most tender lovers you have ever known, it's nothing. It's too soon. Much too soon. They never go away. They're still here, Ana. They'll always be here for people like us, honey.
I know they are. I hear them in every word they spit using your tongue, and on Sunday, I yearn to see them. That's what I really want Ana, that's what this match is about. I want you to step into the ring, fighting from the opening bell, whether you're fighting to prove me wrong or whether you're fighting to keep your wounds patched up a little longer, it really doesn't matter.
In the end you will realise what I already know. This Hardcore Match is a last ditch effort to maintain control, to get a grip, to have a handle on the future you have never wanted to face. It is all way beyond your control darling, we both know it, the cracks you see in me, are echoes of your own. Echoes of Eternity. I am your future, Ana.
Take a good long look at it, it's only a matter of time before your demons start to colour outside the lines you fight so hard to confine them to, just like mine did. I know you hear your mommy calling to you, because I hear mine too, that's why you want us to scream for you, isn't it Ana? That's why you want me to scream for you. You want me to drown out her voice. You need me to drown out her disappointment. But I can't. I won't.
Not when she's trying so hard to reach you from across the sky. Not when she's trying so hard to bring you home again. All she wants for you Ana is what any mother wants, the best for her child. She wants to help you back to your feet, but you won't let her because you're too afraid, too stubborn and too proud to ask for her help.
If you insist on staying on your knees, clutching that precious Diamonds Championship because we both know the one thing you fear more than the idea of becoming me, it is the idea of becoming irrelevant, then you should also know your stubborn pride has a price. A price even steeper than Eric.
It doesn't matter to me, with or without that title, I am relevant. You cannot say the same. You say so much, yet understand so little here Ana. So little of your own fear, the fear of falling. You are dancing above me now my dear, enjoy it while it lasts, enjoy it as long as I let you. Your fall is coming.
You recall the interrupted dream of the trapeze artist above us as we watched.
The more you recall, the more you concede that she looked like Ana Valentine and suddenly you found yourself wondering how the dream would have ended.
I wondered that too.
I guess we'll both find out on Sunday, won't we my love?
You see yourself as many things, don't you Ana? A God. A resurrection. A Phoenix. The best. By the same token, you see me as so many more things A clown. A freak. Undeserving. Pathetic. Worthless. A joke. So many many labels, so many many words, each one as meaningless as the last. I see us for what we are. Two little girls afraid to let go of what we have let define us.
You could have been a kindred spirit Ana, you could have been my sister, from another mister, you could have been so much more than what you are now. But you're too good for me, aren't you Ana? Everybody's always too good for Eternity. I won't lie, it hurts. It hurts so much to be the outcast. The discounted. The one never given a chance in this match.
You see me then shrug and smile.
Oh well, life goes on, no use crying over spilled blood so I won't. I'm used to it by now. Nobody ever expects Death to strike them down dead, which is why its always much more exciting when its unexpected, spontaneous. Heart stopping. Romantic.
Just like Valentine's Day.
Which won't be this Sunday,
Don't worry guys, relax the pressure's off. This time it really is all on Ana. She has to make our Anniversary special. If she doesn't, I will and then people won't care about how many shots it took me to reach the big top. All they will remember is that I finally did it. I finally made Mommy and Daddy proud. I finally became a Princess. And I did it on the grandest stage of them all, on the most magical night of them all.
The Night Of The Immortals.
It will be like Disneyland all over again.
Only this time I won't let the balloon go on without me, no matter how many times I fall.
I promise you, my love.
Purple smoke carries me away from you as it gathers around me.
For a moment you thought about chasing the me through the smoke.
But you loved me enough to let me chase my dreams alone.
You would see me again soon.
You were certain of it.
Well howdy there pardner.