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Jenny Myst · (03-01-2018)

I couldn't believe the sight in front of me. Was this really me? What the hell had happened? I just wish I remembered. It was really strange because I remember exactly who I was talking to and what we were talking about, but then I woke up like this. No recollection in between. Really weird. Very scary.

I pulled the nozzle with a shaky hand, and there was a loud boom before the water began to rush out, hitting the porcelain bottom of the tub with a thud. I slid off the remainder of my already tattered clothes and stepped in, the hot, already steaming water feeling refreshing on my sore feet. There was something about it that was serene and peaceful. Like rainfall in a quiet forest. It was soothing to hear and even more soothing to the touch. The warm water battered my skin as I emersed myself in it. Instantly, all of the trash started to flow off of me. The bottom of the tub was stained with my shame. The shame that was forced on me that I didn't even fucking remember.

I felt my head against the tile of the bathroom shower, I felt the warm drizzle through my caked hair. I was breathing harder than I thought I was, evident by the vapor coming off the water stream flying in different directions every time I exhaled. I heard a raspy wheez that I assumed was emitted from me.

I was sobbing.

I don't know what came over me, but I felt so broken. Felt so dirty. I had lost something that night, and it wasn't' even my fault. It was ripped, torn from me like the roof of a house during an F5, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Or was there?

I wasn't sure if I was crying because of what happened or because of what I knew I had to do. What I was about to do. I had to fight for everything in my life, but never once had I had to fight simply to stay alive. Sure, to stay sane, but every minute I let this go I came closer to taking my own life. I loved my life, no matter how splintered it was.

I punched the wet wall of the shower, and it echoed with a thud as well. I punched it again and again and again until I felt the side of my hand go raw. My tears mixed in with the warm flow of the shower head. How could I let my guard down this much? How could I be so stupid? How could I allow myself to once again be put in this position?

I was only human. It was in our nature to make mistakes. The man's voice echoed in my mind. 'You can get whatever you desire.' Right now, I desired his head in my suitcase. I could get it. I knew how to get close enough. Men are simple creatures. They have two heads but only think with one of them most of the time. Women, on the other hand, they analyze, and they over think. How would I conquer a man? By conquering his woman.

I stayed in that shower for much longer than I should have. It felt like days, but it was really only about an hour. I couldn't pull myself away from the only thing in my life at that moment that didn't hurt me. But I knew what I needed to do. I stepped out of the shower, and looked at myself through the fogged up mirror. I hated my reflection, because I disgusted myself. The fact I didn't do everything in my power to stop what happened disgusted me, but there was still a chance. A chance to restore my pride, restore what I love and get it back in my posession.

What I desired.

I threw on what was left of my clothes. A tank top that was now loose fitting due to being pulled off with some modicum of force and slipped on my leggings, not even bothering with underwear. I glanced at them before I left the room--they had a touch of blood on them. They were a reminder of my failure, they couldn't come with me. I left the room and shut the door, leaving the weaker me behind as it slammed.

I didn't have a car. I would need to hitchhike. I knew where I needed to go because I knew where my enemy was. My only concern was that I wouldn't be able to control myself when I got there. They thought they had killed me, thought they had crushed my windpipe, and they had no idea I was coming.

Or at least I hoped.

It would make things a lot easier if I was written off, yet again, and I shocked the world by doing something nobody expected me to do.

It shouldn't be too hard to hitch a ride. A pretty girl in barely any clothing, in the blistering heat. Someone would give me a sympathy vote.

It didn't take long for a car to pull over. When I told the driver I wanted to go to Reno--one of the stops they made in their loop before circling back to Nye County to drug and rape another girl--he looked at me like I was crazy. Reno was almost 4 hours from where we sat. 230 miles through rough terrain with nothing to look at but sand and rock. Sometimes all you need is a smile.

It's scary what a smile can hide.

So off we went. I didn't say much, as there wasn't much to say. The guy seemed okay, not creepy or whatever. I thought for sure I was going to need to blow him or something or at least fend off a sexual advance or two. But he never tried anything. He listened to NPR on the radio and stared straight, unwavering, out the window. I looked out the passenger side window and all I could think to myself was how many bodies are buried out here. Forget the 'beautiful' landscape, this was a killing field and has been since the 1930's, maybe even before. If anyone ever tells you the mob isn't real, they are lying to you.

The sun was beginning to set as we rolled into Reno. The light up neon signs could be seen for miles away. Reno was like a mini, white trash version of Vegas. It was everything wrong with Nevada, bordering on California, and tucked away in some hills. The driver pulled up to a motel on the south side of town, the neons still a good 2 to 3 miles away. I thanked him, giving him some gas money, and I stepped out of the car. I put my feet on the ground in Reno for the first time and I immediately was conflicted. I knew what I was here to do, but part of me wanted to flag the quiet man back down and beg him to drive me to Vegas. To forget all this and move on.

God why was I such a pussy sometimes?

I walked through the doors to the main lobby. They opened for me. I knew they were automatic but I liked to pretend they opened for me specifically. There was an Indian man behind the desk who looked at me with a big smile--the same kind of smile those people got behind a keyboard when they saw a hot girl's photo on Facebook before asking to see boobs and vagine. He was clearly looking me up and down. I didn't mind, I had a job to do. I told him that my family was staying here, and I gave them a name. It was probably a fake name, but it was the only name I knew. I asked which room they were in.

My luck, the "fake name" that was given to me worked. He told me which room they were in. I thanked him before walking out and hailing a cab to a local hardware store. When I returned about an hour later I had all the tools I needed to do what I planned to do.

But here comes that conscience again. Damnit.

I took a deep breath as I walked past the smiling Indian man, who was still there, smelling as terrible as ever. I took deeper breaths as I walked up to the room. I heard the same terrible music from the party the other night. I gripped the handle on the knife, holding it behind my back and knocked on the door.

I am flesh, bones
I am skin, soul

I am sweat, flaws
I am veins, scars

I am human
Nothing more than human

She smiled into the camera as the flash bulbs went off. She had just finished an autograph session. Hundred of little girls, all dressed like her, were going nuts and snapchatting their friends about getting the chance to meet the amazing Jenny Myst.

She was feeling good. She felt like she was a good person. She didn't HAVE to do autograph sessions, but she wanted to show the world that she wasn't a bad person. She was the toughest chick in the business inside the ring, but she did have gratitude for the fans who did decide to cheer for her.

"They love me" she said to Megan, crimping her freshly dyed tips in the mirror. "They love me and I love it."

"Make you feel good, huh?" Megan was sucking down a milkshake, one of her vice's, and hovering over some paper work for one of her other clients.

"Yeah, it makes me feel human, ya know? We have a way in this business of being like machines. What they see in the ring every week isn't always who we are........."

Megan slurped another sip. It sounded as though the shake was getting empty.

"......and what can I say, people flock to perfection."

Megan closed the folder. "You know, Mandii had a lot to say in response to you."

Jenny snorted a bit in a condescending laugh. "Like I care? I just hope she tried better in this promo than she did on Warfare. Mailing it in seems to be her M.O."

"It's pretty good", Megan said. "She focused mostly on you."

"Of course she did. What is there to focus on about Jessalyn? She used to be heavy? She used to be blonde? She had an orgy with a tattoo gun and now looks like someone you'd see loitering at a mall on a sunny summer day? There is nothing to say about her because she is irrelevant."

Megan nodded her head. Jenny was a brick wall when she had her mind on something. There was no point in arguing. If Jenny said Jessalyn was irrelevant, then she was. No ifs, ands or buts.

Just then, a loud sound came from outside, it sounded like an explosion. Jenny brought her hand down from her hair and looked at Megan, whose eyes were now wide behind her glasses.

"What the hell was that?" they both asked at the same time. They ran outside, where a car was turned on its side and the guard rail was bent. What made Jenny's heart sink, however, was that there was a small bike, with pink and white ribbon out of the handlebars, that was on the ground, bent up. The occupant, for the time, couldn't be seen. They both ran over to the wreck. The traffic was bad today and cars were skidding to a stop all around the accident. One car couldn't stop and slammed into the back of the already upside down car.

"My god," Jenny heard Megan mutter. Scenes and images ran through Jenny's mind. Voices.

She saw the accident that took her best friends life back in her teen years, and she remembered feeling helpless back then. When she cried to her therapist about her failure to save her friend when she had the chance, she was told that we are all humans and sometimes humans don't make the right choice. Sometimes humans make mistakes. It comforted her, that time, but she vowed to be a better person and make better decisions in the future.

"We have to help them" Megan said. Jenny was already on it. She was her knees, checking on the person currently upside down in the driver seat.

They were unresponsive, and the gas was leaking. Glass was everywhere.

She then looked at the bike, looking for the little girl who was riding it a few moments ago. She lay in a heap about 30 feet from the crash.

Jenny rolled the girl over and saw she was wearing a Mandii Rider tee shirt. Megan had pulled the woman out of the driver seat, and she was wearing a Madison Dyson tee shirt.

Jenny stood up, walking towards Megan.

"Come on," she pulled her by the arm. "I booked us a spa day."

"Umm.....you aren't going to help these people?" Megan looked horrified. Jenny turned her phone off and put it in her bag.

"Nope."

"Call 911!"

"I never said I was a good person........"

"You're a monster!"

"I'm only human."

She walked away from the wreckage just as it began to catch fire.

I am human
Nothing more than human

"I just don't get it. Maybe its because I'm blonde and all, but how can someone honestly justify not trying? How can someone who has the audacity to call themselves a deserving champion try to make an excuse, defending the fact that they mailed it in? I am more confused than an Asian at an intersection. It has nothing to do with booking, you vapid cunt. You were matched up with a man who is going to go down as one of the all time greats here. 'I don't do tag teams.' Do you realize how spoiled you sound? You come into every match as a new challenge, a new obstacle, and you perform to the best of your ability. My god what are we paying you for?! It doesn't matter who took the pinfall, because pins can be broken up. You DISAPPEARED in that match. You were a total non-factor. Don't tell me it was because you were teamed with someone. You just aren't that good, its simple. Stop lying to yourself. You say I am the whiner? Jesus Christ all you did in this waste of air space you called a promo was complain about how an XWF Top 50 superstar and a former Universal Champion wasn't on your level. How he blew it for you. How you didn't try because you don't play well with others. You sounded more like a bratty teenage girl who didn't get her way than you do a certified champion. You're worthless, and I am going to expose you.

I don't care what you did back in the day, Mandii, nobody does. That was Chris's biggest flaw, he always gloated about what he did. Now, he sees the light. I said the same thing to Michelle. She came out and bragged about how she used to run this place, about how she has all this experience, about how she is a bonified legend. It doesn't matter what you did, Mandii, it matters what you do. What you have to show for yourself each and every night. Do you think people cared what Ric Flair did in 1985 when Shawn Michaels kicked his head off his shoulders in 2008? No. He was a washed up old man by then and all anyone wanted was to see him hang it up. That is like you now, Mandii. People don't care about your accomplishments, they care what you bring to the table each week and so far you have dropped a big old goose egg. You're no different that Michelle, the Sugay's, any of these bitches. You are all talk, but don't have the length strength to walk enough to back it up.

This title means more to me than anything else in my life. It defines me. It defines how hard I have fought to get to where I am right now. I built this division, then I ended it. You don't understand.......without me, there would be no division. There would be no Bombshell Title, there would be no match for you at Turning Point. Without me, there would be no women's division and we would have nothing to pride ourselves on. That's not toxic, that's building a brand. I am perfection in every sense of the word because I create and destroy, you just live within.

But for real, this title means more to me than life itself. It defines who I am. When I first got here, I was nothing but eye candy. You've heard the spiel before, so I won't beat a dead horse. But I'll be honest since you won't, I didn't have much self-confidence other than good looks. I didn't think I'd be anything but an arm-toy here and part of me accepted that. I had giant fake tits, a face that looked more like one of those sex dolls than a girl, and used my body to get what I wanted. But something inside me wanted to be so much more. I saw the success that Chris had and I wanted it. Sure, I had access to the condo in Florida, the fancy cars, the 5 star hotel accommodations and reservations at all the top restaurants, but I didn't feel like I had earned any of it. Anyone can be pretty, but not everyone can be successful. I was a joke for a bit, as you may imagine, but I kept with it and kept battling. I was knocked down 7 times, I got up 8. Now, I thrive off of it. I accept adversity, because it makes me stronger. I talk a big game Mandii, but I back it the fuck up---every ounce of it. I lost my title to Madison due to shenanigans and management plotting, not because Madison is better than me. Her beating me was what management wanted on a failing Savage show, but they didn't really want her as champion. Hence why they stripped it. Hell, Mandii, I THREW URINE IN THE FACE OF THE DIRECTOR OR DRUG TESTING, and I wasn't stripped of my belt. I wasn't fired, I wasn't suspended. Because I am a ratings generator. Win, loss, or draw, people come to the arena to see ME.

Mandii....some people are dropped as babies, but it is clear to me that you were thrown against a wall. I PLANNED CHRIS'S DISAPPEARANCE YOU STUPID COCK SLEEVE. You're the only one who worked to make yourself from nothing to something? Yeah, okay, sure. What you fail to realize here sweetheart.......I didn't take Chris out of the picture to help me, I did it to help him. I was kicking ass and taking names and he was crumbling like a comet coming through at atmosphere, and I needed to make sure he was on the same page as me going forward. And look what happened? He won Shove It. He has rattled off five in a row. He is better than he has ever been. He is better now because of me. He is feeding off my success. I carried him on my back as Bombshell Champion......and now, after Turning Point, we are both going to be champions. Maybe you should think a little before you speak, because you aren't going to have a lot of time left with a full set of teeth.

I am the apex predator, the supreme ruler, and Queen of the XWF kingdom. The empire. I pick and choose who I want to have in my division. if Roxy got out from under Vinnie's desk every once and a while and signed a woman who was worth a dixie cup of spit maybe I would want to make sure the division flourished. But no.....Madison Dyson and now you? Jesus it is like going to a bar filled with cougars and being expected to want to stay. Not my scene. I killed off the division because I'd rather get attacked by a bear than pestered by misquiots, you feel me? There is a method to my madness, and so far it has worked. You can't beat me, Mandii, and you won't. I already have a $100 bet out that you're going to try to pin Jessalyn and under cut me the same way Abigail and Michelle did. You won't win this title because you are better....if you win this title it will be simply because you got lucky enough to survive.

This division is going to be as strong as I allow it to be. Nobody is going to ride in here on their white horse and demand me to hand over my throne. You aren't the solution, Mandii. You need to wake up and realize that you're part of the problem.

I am, I have
I breathe in and out
I own a heart
An ear and an eye
I've only been here one time

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