Chapter 4:
Knock Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock Knock Knock
Heyman was at his door, but CM didn't want to open it. He was lying on his stomach staring –just staring- at the picture of himself and Maria that he had saved on his cell phone.
Why on earth did I let you go?
He tried to remember the pathetic reason he had for breaking up with her, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. It seemed he had erased that from his memory. It was one of the hardest break-ups he had to ever go through. CM let out a heavy sigh.
"Punk! Come on, let me in! What's bothering you? We can talk about it," Paul attempted to convince him.
Ten seconds later, Punk had unlocked his dressing room door. Paul sadly looked at the WWE Champion as he rested his head on the door. Without a word, Heyman lightly pushed himself into the room.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Heyman asked, parent-like.
CM looked at him with wide eyes and showed Paul the picture on his cell phone.
"Ahh…" he nodded understandingly. "So what exactly is the problem?"
"I saw her the other day at the gym. She was with a steroid-pumping freak, too. This was the first time I saw her after she left," he explained.
"Oh, yes. Well, I can understand how difficult that must have been for you."
"I just… every time I think about her, I feel like a fool."
Heyman pursed his lips. He didn't know what to say.
"You know what? Cancel all my plans tonight. I'm gonna take a nice long nap," said CM.
"Alright then, I guess I'll see you later," Heyman replied, leaving as quickly as he could.
Punk grabbed a fuzzy blanket and laid down on the couch. His thoughts drifted to Maria. He remembered all the good that came out of their relationship. Out of all the women he dated, Maria was the only one who had made a real impression on him. She was the one who supported him while his own family had literally pushed him away.
His father was the biggest alcoholic he had ever seen. He had gone from bad to worse, and his mother wasn't very supportive, either. She was just as addicted to drugs as her husband was addicted to alcohol. Growing up, CM never felt an emotional attachment to his parents. His own brother had deceived him, had run off with money, and was never heard from again. CM didn't care to hear from him anyway. Even if they had tried to reconcile, his brother would've just tried to make money off of him. His two younger sisters almost fell prey to their parents' vices, but they were much stronger. They helped him to stand strong and stay straightedge.
He came from a broken family to say the least. Maria was the only person that he could rely on. Around her, he could be himself. She had accepted and respected him for who he was.
~~Seconds turned into minutes~~
~~Minutes turned into hours~~
"I'm never going back. I'm never going back," breathed CM.
"Well, guess what? You came back, and now, you're never leaving," slurred his father sinisterly.
Fear struck CM when he realized he was holding a bottle of whiskey in his right hand.
"No…" he whispered, before throwing the bottle to the ground.
"This is who you are. This is who you were always meant to be," stated the drunkard, handing him a mirror.
CM looked into the mirror to find the reflection of his father. He touched his face, and the reflection did the same. He yelled maniacally and punched the mirror. Blood flowed from his hand and pieces of glass were stuck in his skin.
"No one can save you now," stated his father darkly as he disappeared.
Just then, CM began coughing. He coughed uncontrollably, gasping for air. He felt as if he was being choked.
CM woke up in a sweat. He had tossed and turned on the couch, so his blanket was around his neck, choking him. He threw the blanket away and went to the bathroom to wash his face. CM didn't think he could feel any worse, but he was wrong. This was the second nightmare he recently had dreamt of about his father. He stared at himself in the mirror and stroked his face. His puzzled look had formed into a smile.
He knew what he had to do.