WrestleMania weekend had finally arrived! It was a Friday morning and the sister's were in their rooms going through last minute check lists before heading out for this run.

Everything seemed to be in order. Heather made certain that she was bringing along quite a few good books for the lulls. She laid them over her clothes and packed them down carefully before zipping her suitcase. She knew her father would be far too busy this weekend and he wouldn't want to stop at any bookstores or shops in order for her to pick up new materials.

Her copy of Vladimir Nabokov's controversial novel sat on her bed amid a host of other stories she had already consumed. She went to return the books to get shelf. She stopped and stared at the cover, blushing as she thought of the contents of its pages. Truth is, if Mark knew Simon, her tutor, had tasked her with reading and analyzing such a diabolical tale, he would have had the man six feet under, no kayfab required. That was the draw back of having the reading level of a senior in college, she supposed.

Placing the rest of the books on the shelf she unzipped her suitcase and slipped the book inside. She was still writing her thesis and she would likely need it as a reference.

Her thoughts had wondered to her conversation with Kevin Nash, replaying their words in her head. It was all so surreal. She fixed her eyes on the scar inside her left wrist. Her fingertips traced the raised flesh, remnants of her healing. She had yet to discern her reasoning for divulging her attempt to depart from this world. No one had ever really noticed her scar any more than they noticed her. If they had, they would turn a blind eye to it.

When Kevin Nash had inquired, he seemed genuinely concerned, or at least curious. There was a vibe he gave off that seemed like he would understand or at least listen.

Heather reprimanded herself. Her mouth had run away with itself. That was all.

Reves was still stuffing the mesh compartment inside the lid of her suitcase with her revealing undergarments. Daddy had a busy weekend ahead of him and she did as well. If he knew of her plans he would drop dead and never be resurrected. She giggled at the idea. Of course, she didn't really wish any ill will on her father, but his kayfab character certainly invoked a string of irony in the prospect.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her bedroom door. "Ya almost through packing, girl?" the Texan accent called from the other side.

Speak of the devil, she thought to herself. She went to her closet and quickly yanked a few more articles of clothing from their hangers. "Yep. Zipping up my bag right now. Be down in a minute!" she called back.

To her chagrin, Mark opened the door to find her stuffing clothes into her luggage and cramming her makeup bag on top. He glared at her. "Hustle. We're leaving in about twenty minutes," he warned her before disappearing.

When she finished, Reves entered the hall with her luggage. At the other end, her two brothers, Marcus and Steven emerged from their respect rooms, suitcases in tow. Reves's face twisted into a glower. "Just what are you spores doing?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"We're going downstairs and leaving to go to WrestleMania, dumbass," Steven told her.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Reves grumbled.

"Sure as shit, sweetheart," Marcus replied.

Her brothers smirked at her.

"Ugh!" Reves growled, pushing past them and stomping down the stairs.

Downstairs Heather was waiting with Sara in there foyer. "Mom," Reves started. Then thought better of it.

"What, Sweetie?" Sara questioned.

"Nothing," she answered, trying to keep her voice even.

Sensing her sister's anger, Heather mouthed "What?" with a concerned expression.

Reves didn't respond, but canted her head towards the staircase as her brothers came down with their suitcases.

Heather's visage changed to one of confliction as she lowered her head. Her father had always let her brothers attend WrestleMania events. It was sort of a tradition for them. Still, Heather was under the wishful assumption that they would get to experience the event for themselves for the first time.

Mark enter through the open front door. "Boys, help me pack up the rest of this," he commanded. The twins obeyed their father as they loaded the suitcases into the truck bed. Sara and the girls had moved out onto the front porch and were watching them.

As they finished up securing everything down, a white BMW pulled up to the house. Out stepped a pair of tall, identical brunettes and they approached the brothers. Hannah and Julie. The two girls were also a set of twins. Hannah was Marcus's girlfriend. Likewise, Julie was dating Steven.

As soon as Reves saw them, she scoffed and threw her arms across her chest. She had little patience for these twits.

Heather turned her head away. Their presence made her feel apprehensive. They were not part of the acolytes whom continually tortured her, but they ran in the same social circle, therefore, she did not particularly care for them either.

"It really sucks this WrestleMania thing is the same weekend as the dance," Julie whined to Steven.

"Yeah, it's not fair," Hannah added.

"I'm sorry, Babe," Steven replied sympathetically. "You know we always go with our dad. I'll make it up to you. I promise." He touched her chin.

"Yeah, we will," Marcus reassured Hannah as he placed his arm around her, drawing her to his side.

Mark furrowed his brows and growled low in his throat. These little brats got on his nerves, big time. Sara punched him in the arm and scowled up at him. Mark cleared his throat. "We need to be getting on the road here," he told them.

"You know, Brandon us taking Jessica Flynn," Hannah announced, not paying any mind to Mark's words.

Heather's chest locked up at the mention of Jessica. She was one of Brittany's lemmings and didn't mind getting her hands dirty if need be.

"I can't believe Reagan didn't have a fit when she asked Brandon and he said yes!" Julie commented.

Reagan Smith. She was Brittany's best friend and Brandon's ex girlfriend. As far as the pecking order of the hierarchy, Reagan was Brittany's right hand women, whereas Jessica was at the bottom of the food chain. Evidence as to why Jessica didn't mind getting entangled in messy situations to claw her way up the ranks.

Heather was almost positive the onslaught she suffered at the hands of Brittany and her acolytes partially served as a type of initiation for Jessica, who previously hadn't been given the time of day.

The memories swimming back, Heather was vaguely aware of Reves taking hold of her hand. She could sense the angry energy surging through her sister as she gripped her hand.

"I'll be waiting in the truck," Reves stated, struggling to keep an even tone in her voice. She pulled Heather along with her as she stomped towards the truck. "Dumbasses," Reves huffed under her breath as she open the door of the truck

"Boys, I'm pulling out in three minutes," Mark warned in austere voice and headed towards the driver's side door. "Nice seeing you girls." He waved shortly before getting in.

"You girls are welcome to stop by for dinner when we get back," Sara nodded curtly before climbing into the truck.

"Mom," Reves stated with surprise.

"Yeah?" Sara answered looking back at her over her shoulder. "I'm coming along too." She smiled as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Oh wow!" Heather said with unusual enthusiasm, "It's just like a family vacation. We haven't done that for quite some time."

The prospect made her a little forlorn. It had been a long time since the family had been on an outing together. Daddy's schedule never allowed for many, but she was assured this would be beneficial for everyone, even with her irksome brothers.

Reves labored to keep the façade as her smile faltered. "That's great!" she pushed out through her teeth. Inside, she questioned how this would affect her plans. This was a monkey wrench that could cause it to go either way. Mom was usually pretty flexible, but if she put her foot down on something she could be almost as unyielding as their father. Sometimes perhaps more so!

After the melodramatic send off from their girlfriends, the twins climbed into the truck and the family set out.

Mark and Sara had discussed driving the twenty-three hour road trip to Toronto, as a family bonding experience. They were thankful they had decided against it. Not even ten minutes on the road and the kids were already bickering like toddlers.

It began with Marcus reaching forward and snatching Heather's book from her. "Oh, Romeo. Where are thou, Romeo!" Marcus sing-songed in a high pitched voice, clutching the book to his chest.

"It is the east and Juliet is the sun!" Steven joined in.

Their deep Texan accents blended into a shameful attempt at a British dialect and culminated in a horrid amalgamation as they fell back against the seat in as fit of laughter.

"Give it back to her!" Reves barked as she turned to look back at them.

"Disregarding the fact that you utterly misquoted that entire scene, that is King Lear, I am reading," Heather informed them meekly.

"Who cares? They are all made by that tight-wearin pansy anyway," Steven scoffed.

Heather opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. She simply shook her head and cast her eyes forward. She questioned how she could have fallen into relation with such ignorance. She would have liked to attribute it to poor breeding, but that would require her to crucify her own parents. Tragically, she did share the same DNA with the Neanderthals seated behind her.

Reves was still unrelenting. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned fully in her seat. "Give it to her, assholes," she growled and attempted go grab it, but Marcus, who was sitting directly behind her, tossed it to Steven. Reves leaned close to Steven as he passed it back to Marcus.

"Hey!" their father's voice bellowed as he watched to confrontation from the rearview mirror. "All ya knock yer shit off!" He glared back at them.

"Fine," Marcus grumbled and tossed the book forward. It flew and collided with Heather's face as she turned her head, inciting laughter to erupt from the twins once more. The morning sun caught their hair and it flicked like flames as they reared their heads back.

"Boys," Sara warned firmly. They muttered half-hearted apologies as they tried to stifle their laughter. "Are you alright, Sweetie?" Sara asked as Heather adjusted her glasses.

Heather only nodded in response and looked out the window, willing away the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

Reves sat down again and buckled up. "Assholes," she uttered candidly, not concerned if her parents heard.

Sure enough, they did, as Mark proceeded to reproach all of them. "Hey! Now this shit ain't going down like this. Reves Ann, you watch your mouth. And boys, leave your sister alone. I don't want to hear shit until we get to the airport or I swear to God, I'll turn this truck around and you'll all spend the whole weekend in your rooms," Mark warned and they knew it was not just a threat but a promise. Sara gave them a rigid look and nodded her head in agreement. "Now, do we have any misunderstandings?"

"No sir," the four teens grumbled in relative union.

Arms folded over her chest, Reves looked back and glowered at her two brothers.

Keeping his hand low, so that their parents might not see, Steven cast a middle finger at her.

Reves pursed her lips before mouthing, "You are so dead!"

Heather witnessed the exchange in a apprehensive manner. She didn't wish to upset her parents and be sentenced to solitary confinement during the biggest weekend of the year.

Thankfully, the airport was in close proximity and the remainder of the ride went off without a hitch.

The Calaway family unloaded their bags, checked in and proceeded through security. Mark had issued another astringent talk to the kids about their bickering and what he expected while they waited to board.

He prayed this wasn't a mistake. He usually allowed the boys to come with him over WrestleMania weekend. It was a father/son thing. Yet since the girls had been traveling with him, he couldn't just leave them out. To top it off, Sara had expressed how much she missed traveling with. Admittedly, he had missed her being there too. And so it became a family affair.

Mark only hoped they could all make it through the weekend with out getting at each other's throats, especially the kids. He also hoped Sara could see how hard he was trying. They still had a long road to mend. Their time together last fall had helped, but now that she was back home the divide was harder to cross. WWE had been close to offering her a full time contract, but Heather's incident and recovery took precedence.

Sara leaned into her husband, speaking low, "She's watching you again. Don't look so grave," She nudged him playfully.

Mark adjusted himself in his seat, getting more comfortable. He looked at his youngest daughter, sitting across from him. She sat cross-legged in the seat, book in her lap, eyes darting back and forth between the pages and her father's somber visage.

"Girl, you don't need to be concerning yourself with what I'm thinkin' 'bout," he said sternly. He watched her eyes drift down to the page as she licked her lips and placed a death grip on her book, trying to look unobtrusive.

Mark chuckled. A few strong words were all he ever needed to keep that one in line. It was both a blessing and a curse, her docile demeanor. He had no idea those little wenches at school had treated her in the manner that they did. He had always taught his kids to be respectful, but to stand up for themselves. But he figured that concept was lost on all of them in one way or the other.


Sorry, I feel that the story has not been that exciting so far. This is going to be a long story, so there is a lot to do to kind of set things up and get the ball rolling. These next few chapter may be kind of boring. I hope you will bare with me.