Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Jenny Myst · (02-03-2018)

......continued from The Stall 2

"........This is going to be a battle, no question about it. Madison, I know you have some skill in the ring, despite your lack of common sense. I know that you have experience, but I also know you're a tough bitch and you take what you want. I have always admired that about you. I used to think that you were the toughest woman I have ever met until you took a back seat to Engy and let him make you relevant. Instead of making your own legacy you rode the coattails of someone who not too long ago you called stupid and made fun of. You rode his coattails because he blew up, but if Engy failed you would have tossed him to the curb like a used condom after prom. You know it and I know it. You NEED Engy, and the moment that began I lost respect for you. Your endorsement, it meant the world to me when it happened. I thought I had finally made it. Now your endorsement means the same to me as if you spit on a piece of paper and handed it to me. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Because I have become so much more than I was then while you have sat back and watched from your fancy lifestyle, expecting everyone to grovel at your feet for no reason. You want people to give you respect but have done nothing to earn it. I was dumb then, naive, blinded by the aura of those who have been here before. But now, I am the top female wrestler in the world and there is nothing you can say to refute that. Women, men, animals, it doesn't matter who they put in the ring I find a way to persevere. Sure, I have lost some matches that maybe I shouldn't have but every single time they have put me in the ring for this belt I have shown the world that I am a top tier talent. There was something in me back then that you saw, Madison, and there has to be something in me now. Hell, you wanted me to be Engy. You wanted me to be the one you groomed into a puppet, but when I lost that match you decided to stick to what you had because a polished turd is still a turd but hey at least it looks good! So POOF, all of the sudden Engy is a god around these parts and you are taking all the credit. There is no credit to be given to you, Madison, because he has been a hell of a lot better on his own. He has been a hell of a lot better with you watching the game from the sidelines than playing alongside. I am glad I lost that match because I could never live with myself being in your camp, because I don't respect people who dictate but don't do. You bark orders like you're above everyone but haven't done a single thing of substance except be a Stepford Manager to Engy who claps encouragement and puts up with his antics. You're a joke, through and through, and that is more clear than ever.

You love to hurl insults, to pull people into your "I know you are but what am I" battle of playground wit, but the truth is I took a chunk off your career back in July and you haven't been the same since."

Her phone rings. She looks at it with a smile before sliding it to answer.

"What the fuck?"

The voice on the other end didn't sound happy.

"Babe, look, I said I was sorry but what I said is the truth."

The voice on the other line didn't sound thrilled.

"I am a goddamn Top 50 Superstar and a former Universal Champion! I won Shove It! Where do you get off---"

"You just lost to Finn. You made me a promise that you would be the Universal Ch---"

The voice on the other end exploded........

"I am not going to argue with you. You haven't been shit since that Hell in a Cell. It was over a year ago, bro, get with the fucking program. The XWF world has passed you by and you got caught with your pants down and your dick in your hand."

She hung up. She didn't have time for this. She was a strong woman who didn't need to be kept down. He'd get over it anyway, that is the power of a vagina. Vagina's can heal any wound. She could say anything to him and all she had to do was give it up and all would be forgiven.

Apparently, she's fucking the President now too.

Moving up in the world.

How is a dick appointment with Trump a bad thing? She'd milk him for everything he was worth. She would get a new bag, a new car, her own building.......Madison, if anything, just did her a favor.

Thanks, bitch!

And she would do her another favor by choking against her yet again, further proving that Madison Dyson is an overindulging cunt with complex.

Thanks, bitch!

She loved being right.

Where the hell was Megan? Jenny stood there, realizing she was standing there with the toilet remnants all over her. She didn't care. She made her way over to the sink and turned the water on.

The sound was like a rushing waterfall in the quiet room, like the ones she used to envision as a young girl.

Laying on her bed, she pictured the water falls she saw on TV. Her entire body was sore and she wasn't in the mood to talk. Her AIM was blowing up, but she didn't want to sit. Especially now. Ow.

The TV was on in the corner, but the volume was off. She didn't want to hear anything either. Sometimes she just wanted to grow wings and fly away from this place. Her entire body smelled of alcohol, as it was on his breath.

She hated it. She vowed she would never drink. As the tears stained her pillow she watched through blurry eyes as Niagra Falls took over her fuzzy television. It looked so pristine. It looked like nothing could harm it....like it was heaven itself. Why couldn't she live there?

The footsteps came up the stairs, at a rapid pace this time, and approached her door. Her nails dug into the pillow so hard that the feathers inside began to come out. The stuffing spilled out onto the bed like a freshly cut beanbag.

This was a challenge, a struggle. Always. Nobody thought she was anything. Nobody thought she was smart. Nobody thought she was cunning, witty, wise. Nobody thought she'd ever be anything but a "flesh and blood glory hole"---nobody ever thought she'd be anything besides what was between her legs.

She knew if she stayed quiet and let him do what he does she would get McDonalds, which is better than the normal meal of Ramen and old milk. The steps approached at an even faster rate, hammering the floor like construction worker on a job site. He was muttering to himself, talking louder than a whipser but still in what her teacher described as "inside voices." She could hear him but not understand him. It took forever for him to get there, despite how fast he was going. She found it amazing how time slowed down when you anticipate something. When you know it is coming it just can't come quick enough.

The door handle jiggled, but again it felt like an eternity before it opened. The television showed the steam rising off the rocks at the bottom of the falls, and she wondered what it would be like to be lost in the mist. To feel it on her skin. To flip her hair and never have another care in the world.

The door exploded open and the light from the hallway made her squint. The terrible smell was back, something called "vodka." She didn't know what it was, but all she knew was that she hated it. She never wanted to drink it, smell it, or be near it again.

His voice was smooth, soothing even. Comforting. But she knew the intentions. She groaned into her pillow.

"What the hell do you think this is?"

She had been written up at school that day. Acting out.

Her progress report was in there too, she wasn't doing very well either.

She didn't say a word, just kept her face in the pillow. She didn't want to look.

"You know what happens to bad girls", he was next to her on the bed, his warm breath on his neck. The vodka smell was coming under into the pillow.

He laid on top of her, and was kissing her neck. He told her that maybe he could motivate her to do better, that he knew what she needed. She slapped at him and he immediately became enraged. He placed his hands on her neck, she couldn't breath. She was going to have a bruise there, she knew it. She expected this, though, and this time was ready. As he pressed down on her windpipe, she pulled the knife she had taken from the downstairs drawer. She plunged it into his back. His fist came down and connected with her face.

She awoke in the hospital, the trauma unit. There were police officers and hospital personnel around her. Her eyes were blurry as she opened them, but this time not from tears. From being closed. She had been out for a while, who knows who long.

"Hey beautiful." the voice was soothing. The nurse looked to be some sort of Asian, and she had soft features. "You're in the trauma unit sweetie."

Trauma, why?

Her neck was on fire. She could barely use her legs. Her tailbone felt broken.

"Why are the cops here?"

"You stabbed your legal guardian......"

"Is he dead?"

"No, he is in the ICU"

"Damnit"

She laid her head back. She looked past the nurse and the police, who were flipping through pads and muttering to each other.

On the television was the documentary. The waterfalls. The mist.

Her entire body hurt. She knew she'd be going to a knew foster home after this, if not juvi, and she knew this would happen again. She knew she would be okay if she just closed her eyes and envisioned those falls.

That mist.

She laid her head back and smiled through her fat lip.

Her thoughts snapped back to reality. She knew what this was. She knew who she was. This water his her hands and she brought it to her face. She was always going to be the bad guy, per say, and she accepted it. She would never be normal again, not after her trauma. But she felt beautiful. She felt unique. She felt like a survivor.

The water was cold on her face, but as it warmed up in the faucet, she saw the mist begin to rise as the temperature changed.

Her mind shot back to the office that day with Roxy and Vinnie, when they asked her what she wanted her performance name to be.

Her eyes closed.

"Jenny Myst" she said in her flash back and she realized as well that she said it out loud.

"Jenny Myst."

She remembered the look from Roxy and Vinnie, but they both said okay. As long as she carried that name, she would always be a fighter. She would always be in her happy place. She would always envision those falls. As long as she had the Myst name, she would always rise up like the mist at the bottom of those cliffs, so when she fell she would always rise back up.

She felt the water rush down her face.

Jenny Myst was going to survive, win loss or draw. She would always find a way.

She was a victim of beautiful trauma, and it made her beautiful. It made her perfect. She was broken, but she didn't wanna fix it. The girl in the corner who she saved earlier was passed out again, probably dead, and the toilet contents still were strewn on the floor. The smell was outrageous.

"Madison Dyson wants to talk tough, she has no idea. I am crazy, I am fucked up, I am beyond broken. I can't be fixed." She smiled into the mirror, a beautiful smile.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

But let me tell you something baby
You love me for everything you hate me for

I am the dirt you created

I am your sinner

And your whore

But let me tell you something baby
You love me for everything you hate me for

PERFECTION

MADISON:

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode PlaceMarker Beautiful Trauma
Author	Message