Disclaimer and author's notes: I don't own Shannon Moore.   The WWE does … and I suppose he owns himself as well :p This is actually a post from a LJ RPG community.  I decided not to change it from its original state … so read it as if it's a diary entry.  The other man is not an actual character… but if there's any interest in this I'll elaborate (and I promise I won't do the writing-in-a-diary thing anymore).

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Ugh. Bad dream. I'm really tired 'cos I woke up after like four hours of sleep, and spent four more hours unable to go back to sleep because I couldn't stop thinking. Don't you hate thinking? Yeah, I do too...

I need to write about something that happened not too long ago. I hadn't forgotten; I'd just been trying not to think about it. You know... maybe I could convince myself I'd forgotten. Guess not ... thanks a lot, subconscious.

Remember that relationship survey Shane posted awhile back ... I did it too, but I took it down. Then I posted it and took it down again. If anyone saw it, I think only Shane did, if he was quick enough. The reason I wasn't comfortable keeping it up was because of the stuff about the ex. See, I had this ex who was a psycho, and ... I don't really want to get into details. Let's just leave it at him being a psychopath. Anyway, you'll see what I mean. I guess another thing you should keep in mind is that I haven't seen this guy since high school.

A few weeks ago, I had to drive down town to run errands and stuff... and I parked in this underground lot. I came back a few hours later to find someone sitting on the back of my car. I didn't recognize him at first, but he recognized me, and started acting all cordial like we were old friends. When I realized who it was, all I could do was stare, because I was pretty shocked that we'd run into each other after all this time. Yeah... my first mistake. Staring ... smart.

We exchanged a few words, mostly stuff like, "You haven't changed after all this time." "Yes I have." "No you haven't." Then he said, "So you're still living here, eh?" and I lied and said, "No, I moved," but he just laughed and shook his head. But I guess it was obvious. Why would I be buying groceries here if I lived somewhere else? Mistake number two?

Eventually he started saying things like, "So are you still sleeping with anything with two legs?" I said, "Do you still scare small children?" and tried to get by him to open the driver side door. He was right behind me, I mean, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. He caught the door before I could get into the car, closing it partway and standing right next to me so I couldn't move. The door was on my legs. Mistake #3... I should have punched in him the jaw ages ago.

"Do you still have the same friends? You're still following that Jeff around. And Shane, isn't it. Are you still fucking men? Jesus, you haven't changed at all. I swear you haven't even grown up. Are you still getting fucked by other men? Are you still the same submissive little boy I knew years ago? But you're much bigger. I can tell you're much bigger now. But you still haven't changed. Why don't you talk to me, Shannon? Why don't you look at me? God, you're still the same."

I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. I tried to turn away to get into the car, without saying anything, which was really stupid, really (mistake #4 if you're keeping track). I should have decked him right then and there. But the truth was, my heart was pounding so hard I couldn't think straight. All I wanted was to get into the car and drive away, even if it meant driving over him. When I turned my head he reached up with his other hand and grabbed my hair.

"You're still the same. I know you are. Your friends, too. I know you're still the same slut I knew back then. You and your friends."

"No, I'm not. And they're not."

"Yes, they are. Shane has the bite marks to prove it ... just ask him." He proceeded to say a bunch of things about Shane that I won't mention here. I just can't. But it really pissed me off. I swear I saw red. So I guess I wasn't thinking when I struck out my arm, trying to hit him on the head, which was mistake number five. Him grabbing onto my hair and standing right behind me, while holding my legs with the car door, does not a good situation for fighting make. He grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back, then pushed me down across the front seat of the car. So I'm on my stomach, my legs are still caught between the car and the door, my arm wretched behind me, he's right on top of me and I can't move a fucking inch. Wow, Shannon. You're so smart, getting yourself into these situations. Minus ten billion points for you.

The pain in my shoulder and my legs, and the weight on me, and his arm across the back of my neck, I don't know why I didn't think to fight back. And people think wrestlers are tough. I guess I'm not a wrestler.

"I knew you wouldn't fight back. I just knew you wouldn't. Because you like it that way, don't you?" and he said a bunch of other things that I can't remember. And frankly, I've already written so much I'm not even sure I want to try to remember. But I suppose since I've gotten this far, I might as well write to the end of it.

But it's true. I didn't fight back. I guess I didn't even really try. Something in me might've snapped. And it was like I really hadn't changed all this time. I didn't want to be there, yet I was still submissive. All this time ... I hadn't changed. I have let other people hurt me willingly, and it wasn't until then that I realized, maybe it was because I thought they were all him. So he was right. I found myself believing he was right. So those were mistakes number 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10.

A new record for Shannon.

I don't know how long I laid there like an idiot before I got the sense to try to push myself up, even though I felt like he was going to break me in two. I tried to ignore that and just flailed my free arm until I could lean my elbow on the horn. I just kept hitting the horn, instead of hitting him, but come on... I don't want to start counting past mistake number ten. It seemed to have worked, though. He eventually let go of my arm and got up, running out of the parking lot. Or whatever dark corners of underground lots he lives in.

I went home, put all my groceries and stuff away, and was fully prepared to just continue my life living normally. But when I passed through the hall to the living room, I don't know, I just sat down on the floor and cried. But that's the last time I thought about it. Up until now. Thanks again, subconscious. You really suck.

But this is the last time I intend to think about it in such detail. So stupid that something that happened back when I was a naive little kid in high school, would come back to haunt me now. But most of all, I just want to tell my friends to keep an eye out. I suppose word gets around about certain things, but you never know, he's such a psychopath that maybe he has other ways of finding out stuff like that.

It's really fucked, I know. And I totally could have handled the situation better. But I didn't. So I got what I deserved. Whatever. It's over now. No more thinking about it. THE END.