Disclaimer: OK So I finished up my meetings with Vinnie Mac, and he has
agreed to let me have Brock for personal use only, in exchange for
incriminating photos I had. SO Life is good. and then I woke up and
realized IT WAS ALL A FREAKING DREAM!!!
AN: Hey Yo. Sorry it's been so long. I haven't been inspired (I blame it on Brock turning into a heel and Vince's lil biatch. Damm him) and my computer broke. *gets up on soapbox* I would like to take this moment to bitch about spy ware and pop up ads. THEY ARE THE DEVIL!!! I installed software to find all the spy ware and nasty stuff that had been attacking my computer and it found 425 files. 425 FILES!!!! OH MI LAWD!!!! No wonder my computer kept seizing up like it was having a coronary every time I clicked on anything. So then.after I deleted everything, my computer crashed and it took a team (ok one person, my good friend Brian who is a part time computer god, but he eats enough for a team LMAO) to come up and save my computer. He had to clean off the entire drive and reinstall everything. OHMILAWD! All this for a couple of spy wares and some pop ads. DAMM THEM!! DAMM THEM ALL!!!!! *climbs off soapbox* thank you. I needed that. And on with the story!
AN the Return!: Just a side note, the songs mentioned are of course Undertaker's theme music which I don't know who sings. But if anyone does know, let me know and I will make sure proper credit is given, and then second song is by Maroon 5 called Harder to Breathe. WHICH IS AN AWESOME SONG!!!! If you haven't heard it I suggest you look for it. Lot of pent up emotion on it. Makes a great AOL IM away message. :) I've also declared it as the unofficial theme song for asthmatics everywhere. lol What?! I can say that. I gots "the curse" if you will. GEESH! LOLOL Oh and the line about monsters and dreams is actually with a little girl, but I took an artistic license and made it a boy, it worked better! As always reviews are welcomed and encouraged. Don't make me beat you up.
And thank you to LESNERSCHICK you're review kicked me in the butt so I finished 'er up tonight Thank ya kindly! AND. GO!
++++
After Grayson left, I curled up in the hammock on the back porch. Anna tried to talk to me but I just shut her out. I was probably being a bit childish, but I really didn't care. A part of me left with Grayson, and I hoped that I got it back when he came back to me.
Anna came out later, carrying my comforter, a mug of hot chocolate, and the phone.
I looked up at her, "What's this?"
"Blanket to keep you warm," she said throwing it over me, "Hot chocolate with plenty of Kaluah, and the phone."
"Whats the phone for?"
Anna arched an eyebrow, "Call Brock."
I groaned pulling my comforter tighter around me, ignoring the cup for now. She made her hot chocolate a little bit south of blistering and I didn't feel like 2nd degree burns, "I can't do that Anna. He'll want to come and he can't"
"He will come. He needs to know about this Maggie." For the first time she hadn't put a Miss in front of my name, either she was upset or I finally wore her down I wasn't gonna ask and just went with it, "You are not a burden on him you know." She sat down on the chair next to the hammock, "He needs to know." She repeated.
"Anna, if I call him he'll get upset, and then want to come. Vince won't let him, so it will ruin his concentration for his match tonight and it'll be a bad performance for the fans. I can't do that to him, no matter how much he needs to know. Or how much I want him here for that matter."
Anna said angrily, "You think that all he cares about it wrestling? You think the fans actually mean more to him then you? You think he actually puts wrestling over you and Grayson?" She got up from the chair; "You are a stupid, stupid girl sometimes."
As she left slamming the screen door behind her, my tears started to fall again. "I can't call him." I cried staring at the phone she left willing it to ring and let it be him so I could tell him and not feel guilty, "He can't get involved in this freakin' mess." I cried myself into a fitful emotional sleep.
+++
After I woke up a while later, Brock still hadn't gotten my "head mail" and hadn't called. So I stayed in my hammock for much of the day reading the court papers Sarah had left behind when she was here. My anger level continued to rise as I read through the stack. Jimmy was claiming that he had no idea my sister was pregnant and if he had known he would have "done things a lot differently" according to his deposition. I climbed out of the hammock and paced on the porch, the worn boards cold under my bare feet, "Different like what?" I yelled to know on in particular, "You wouldn't have beaten the crap out of her when you were drunk? Or you would have taken less drugs? What Jimmy? What would you have done differently?!"
My muscles were tense and I was tense and the air around me was tense as I stared out to the backyard that was growing dark in the evening light, where Grayson's swing moved lightly in the wind with no Grayson in it. Tears stung my eyes. "This is not working," I muttered thinking of my punching bag in the basement, "I need to beat something up." I marched frustrated into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
Anna looked up at me and said nothing. I stood in the doorway drinking my water, watching her cook.
"Aren't you making a lot of food for just the two of us?" I asked looking doubtful at the mountain of vegetables she was chopping and the steaming pots on the stove.
"Habit I guess," She looked sheepish to the point of being guilty as she looked around, "Well chicken soup freezes well enough. So what are you doing now?" and then looked at the phone, looked at me and then back at the phone.
I sighed, "Anna."
"Well it would be the time he's at the show isn't? You could just chicken out and leave a message."
I gave her a small look of death.
"Well I'm just saying.." as she trailed off looking at the phone again.
"God dammit!" I yelled grabbing the phone, "I hate it when you're right." And angrily punched in Brock's number. Just like Anna said, his voice mail picked up,
"Hey it's a me this is my phone, I hope you know what to do. If you don't, tell me where you are and I'll come over and hit ya." I rolled my eyes; I don't think his message has changed since college. After the beep, I paused not knowing what to say, "Ah Brock its um me. Could you please call me back as soon as you get this?" As much as I tried to hold back emotion, my voice wavered a little, "Its really important. Thanks, love you." And clicked the end button and placed the phone back on the cradle as an overwhelming feeling of relief came over me, "Happy now?" I asked
"So happy I'm giddy." She said smiling.
"God I hate it when you're cranky and you start cooking." And then ducked, laughing as she threw a hunk of carrot at me, "I'm headed down to the bag, if he calls will you come and get me?"
"Or course."
I went upstairs and changed into my workout clothes, baggy black pants and a tank top. I grabbed my gloves from the bottom of my suitcase, throwing clothes all over my floor in the hunt. During my travels with "The Boys", I started working out with them when I had a moment and was actually motivated to sweat. Which was rare. Mark got my hooked on working with a punching bag. My first workout with one, my shoulders hurt so bad I couldn't move. I was hooked. Hooked so much, that I had a bag delivered here and to Brock's place in Connecticut so I could use it when I was away from Mark's stuff.
I ran downstairs to the basement and started to stretch out, I learned my lesson from not stretching the first time. I threw in my "angry music" as Mark calls it sarcastically. Is it really my fault he can't appreciate Justin Timberlake?! I mean honestly. OK So I wasn't listening to that at the moment, but Mark lumps all my music into that little mocking category. The CD I threw in was a burned CD I had made and the only way Mark said he would let me listen to it was if I put his entrance music on it. I got halfway through the tracks before his song came on. I paused breathing heavily, grinning as the opening lines played
*Dead man walkin' You've done it now You've gone and did a big mistake I can't allow you to just walk away So turn around and first the ride you're gonna take Cause the end is now This is gonna be your judgment day*
I stood there for a minute letting the music pour over me, replacing all the pent up tension. My punches started out slowly and then built up in time with the music.
*A cheap shot that's the way you play the game I was blindside things will never ever be the same Nice guys its said they always finish last
But bad asses are always kickin ass*
As I listened to the lyrics, I realized how much it related to what was happening. It was like the song was written about Jimmy the Bastard.
*You're gonna pay you're gonna pay There's no forgiveness this time You're gonna pay you're gonna pay It's my business you're mine You're gonna pay you're gonna pay I'm burning these walls to the ground You're gonna pay I'm gonna bring you down You're gonna pay you're gonna pay*
I was now starting to jab harder and harder, the bag was swinging wildly. My muscles were all ready burning but I didn't care, the endorphins were pumping and I had a high going that couldn't have been brought around by all the drugs in the world.
*No more chances No more excuses no lies You're stories endin' Time to say you're goodbyes Nice guys its said they always finish last But bad asses always kickin' ass*
As the song ended, I grabbed the bag and stopped its wild flight, "That's it Jimmy You're ass is mine." I grinned for the first time in what felt like forever, "I think I need to put his picture on here" looking at a worn spot on the bag. I threw my arms back, feeling my shoulders pop in unison. "Oh that's better!" I grinned again. Wow I grinned twice within 5 minutes of each other I was on a roll tonight. The next song was all ready ending by the time I was ready to start up again. I was starting to feel tired and the endorphin high was starting to gradually go away, "One more song," I though, "then I'm done."
*How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable
So condescending unnecessarily critical
I have the tendency of getting very physical
So watch your step cause if I do you'll need a miracle*
I hit the bag hard, as my knuckles popped all at once. It was a good type of pain. I began the same routine of finding a beat in the song and matching my punches and kicks to it Listening to the lyrics my mind started to wander, thinking of Grayson. It was after nine now, he was hopefully in bed. A strange bed. In a strange room. Away from me.
"Its not fair!" my mind cried as I hit harder, "He's so little. He needs me."
*when it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're gonna give up
And like a little boy cries in the face of a monster that lives in his dreams *
Tears fell down my face now, thinking of Gray having a bad dream and wanting me to come. I stopped punching and clutched the bag, just hugging it. My breathing became choked as I sobbed and tried to catch my breath.
*Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe *
AN: Hey Yo. Sorry it's been so long. I haven't been inspired (I blame it on Brock turning into a heel and Vince's lil biatch. Damm him) and my computer broke. *gets up on soapbox* I would like to take this moment to bitch about spy ware and pop up ads. THEY ARE THE DEVIL!!! I installed software to find all the spy ware and nasty stuff that had been attacking my computer and it found 425 files. 425 FILES!!!! OH MI LAWD!!!! No wonder my computer kept seizing up like it was having a coronary every time I clicked on anything. So then.after I deleted everything, my computer crashed and it took a team (ok one person, my good friend Brian who is a part time computer god, but he eats enough for a team LMAO) to come up and save my computer. He had to clean off the entire drive and reinstall everything. OHMILAWD! All this for a couple of spy wares and some pop ads. DAMM THEM!! DAMM THEM ALL!!!!! *climbs off soapbox* thank you. I needed that. And on with the story!
AN the Return!: Just a side note, the songs mentioned are of course Undertaker's theme music which I don't know who sings. But if anyone does know, let me know and I will make sure proper credit is given, and then second song is by Maroon 5 called Harder to Breathe. WHICH IS AN AWESOME SONG!!!! If you haven't heard it I suggest you look for it. Lot of pent up emotion on it. Makes a great AOL IM away message. :) I've also declared it as the unofficial theme song for asthmatics everywhere. lol What?! I can say that. I gots "the curse" if you will. GEESH! LOLOL Oh and the line about monsters and dreams is actually with a little girl, but I took an artistic license and made it a boy, it worked better! As always reviews are welcomed and encouraged. Don't make me beat you up.
And thank you to LESNERSCHICK you're review kicked me in the butt so I finished 'er up tonight Thank ya kindly! AND. GO!
++++
After Grayson left, I curled up in the hammock on the back porch. Anna tried to talk to me but I just shut her out. I was probably being a bit childish, but I really didn't care. A part of me left with Grayson, and I hoped that I got it back when he came back to me.
Anna came out later, carrying my comforter, a mug of hot chocolate, and the phone.
I looked up at her, "What's this?"
"Blanket to keep you warm," she said throwing it over me, "Hot chocolate with plenty of Kaluah, and the phone."
"Whats the phone for?"
Anna arched an eyebrow, "Call Brock."
I groaned pulling my comforter tighter around me, ignoring the cup for now. She made her hot chocolate a little bit south of blistering and I didn't feel like 2nd degree burns, "I can't do that Anna. He'll want to come and he can't"
"He will come. He needs to know about this Maggie." For the first time she hadn't put a Miss in front of my name, either she was upset or I finally wore her down I wasn't gonna ask and just went with it, "You are not a burden on him you know." She sat down on the chair next to the hammock, "He needs to know." She repeated.
"Anna, if I call him he'll get upset, and then want to come. Vince won't let him, so it will ruin his concentration for his match tonight and it'll be a bad performance for the fans. I can't do that to him, no matter how much he needs to know. Or how much I want him here for that matter."
Anna said angrily, "You think that all he cares about it wrestling? You think the fans actually mean more to him then you? You think he actually puts wrestling over you and Grayson?" She got up from the chair; "You are a stupid, stupid girl sometimes."
As she left slamming the screen door behind her, my tears started to fall again. "I can't call him." I cried staring at the phone she left willing it to ring and let it be him so I could tell him and not feel guilty, "He can't get involved in this freakin' mess." I cried myself into a fitful emotional sleep.
+++
After I woke up a while later, Brock still hadn't gotten my "head mail" and hadn't called. So I stayed in my hammock for much of the day reading the court papers Sarah had left behind when she was here. My anger level continued to rise as I read through the stack. Jimmy was claiming that he had no idea my sister was pregnant and if he had known he would have "done things a lot differently" according to his deposition. I climbed out of the hammock and paced on the porch, the worn boards cold under my bare feet, "Different like what?" I yelled to know on in particular, "You wouldn't have beaten the crap out of her when you were drunk? Or you would have taken less drugs? What Jimmy? What would you have done differently?!"
My muscles were tense and I was tense and the air around me was tense as I stared out to the backyard that was growing dark in the evening light, where Grayson's swing moved lightly in the wind with no Grayson in it. Tears stung my eyes. "This is not working," I muttered thinking of my punching bag in the basement, "I need to beat something up." I marched frustrated into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
Anna looked up at me and said nothing. I stood in the doorway drinking my water, watching her cook.
"Aren't you making a lot of food for just the two of us?" I asked looking doubtful at the mountain of vegetables she was chopping and the steaming pots on the stove.
"Habit I guess," She looked sheepish to the point of being guilty as she looked around, "Well chicken soup freezes well enough. So what are you doing now?" and then looked at the phone, looked at me and then back at the phone.
I sighed, "Anna."
"Well it would be the time he's at the show isn't? You could just chicken out and leave a message."
I gave her a small look of death.
"Well I'm just saying.." as she trailed off looking at the phone again.
"God dammit!" I yelled grabbing the phone, "I hate it when you're right." And angrily punched in Brock's number. Just like Anna said, his voice mail picked up,
"Hey it's a me this is my phone, I hope you know what to do. If you don't, tell me where you are and I'll come over and hit ya." I rolled my eyes; I don't think his message has changed since college. After the beep, I paused not knowing what to say, "Ah Brock its um me. Could you please call me back as soon as you get this?" As much as I tried to hold back emotion, my voice wavered a little, "Its really important. Thanks, love you." And clicked the end button and placed the phone back on the cradle as an overwhelming feeling of relief came over me, "Happy now?" I asked
"So happy I'm giddy." She said smiling.
"God I hate it when you're cranky and you start cooking." And then ducked, laughing as she threw a hunk of carrot at me, "I'm headed down to the bag, if he calls will you come and get me?"
"Or course."
I went upstairs and changed into my workout clothes, baggy black pants and a tank top. I grabbed my gloves from the bottom of my suitcase, throwing clothes all over my floor in the hunt. During my travels with "The Boys", I started working out with them when I had a moment and was actually motivated to sweat. Which was rare. Mark got my hooked on working with a punching bag. My first workout with one, my shoulders hurt so bad I couldn't move. I was hooked. Hooked so much, that I had a bag delivered here and to Brock's place in Connecticut so I could use it when I was away from Mark's stuff.
I ran downstairs to the basement and started to stretch out, I learned my lesson from not stretching the first time. I threw in my "angry music" as Mark calls it sarcastically. Is it really my fault he can't appreciate Justin Timberlake?! I mean honestly. OK So I wasn't listening to that at the moment, but Mark lumps all my music into that little mocking category. The CD I threw in was a burned CD I had made and the only way Mark said he would let me listen to it was if I put his entrance music on it. I got halfway through the tracks before his song came on. I paused breathing heavily, grinning as the opening lines played
*Dead man walkin' You've done it now You've gone and did a big mistake I can't allow you to just walk away So turn around and first the ride you're gonna take Cause the end is now This is gonna be your judgment day*
I stood there for a minute letting the music pour over me, replacing all the pent up tension. My punches started out slowly and then built up in time with the music.
*A cheap shot that's the way you play the game I was blindside things will never ever be the same Nice guys its said they always finish last
But bad asses are always kickin ass*
As I listened to the lyrics, I realized how much it related to what was happening. It was like the song was written about Jimmy the Bastard.
*You're gonna pay you're gonna pay There's no forgiveness this time You're gonna pay you're gonna pay It's my business you're mine You're gonna pay you're gonna pay I'm burning these walls to the ground You're gonna pay I'm gonna bring you down You're gonna pay you're gonna pay*
I was now starting to jab harder and harder, the bag was swinging wildly. My muscles were all ready burning but I didn't care, the endorphins were pumping and I had a high going that couldn't have been brought around by all the drugs in the world.
*No more chances No more excuses no lies You're stories endin' Time to say you're goodbyes Nice guys its said they always finish last But bad asses always kickin' ass*
As the song ended, I grabbed the bag and stopped its wild flight, "That's it Jimmy You're ass is mine." I grinned for the first time in what felt like forever, "I think I need to put his picture on here" looking at a worn spot on the bag. I threw my arms back, feeling my shoulders pop in unison. "Oh that's better!" I grinned again. Wow I grinned twice within 5 minutes of each other I was on a roll tonight. The next song was all ready ending by the time I was ready to start up again. I was starting to feel tired and the endorphin high was starting to gradually go away, "One more song," I though, "then I'm done."
*How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable
So condescending unnecessarily critical
I have the tendency of getting very physical
So watch your step cause if I do you'll need a miracle*
I hit the bag hard, as my knuckles popped all at once. It was a good type of pain. I began the same routine of finding a beat in the song and matching my punches and kicks to it Listening to the lyrics my mind started to wander, thinking of Grayson. It was after nine now, he was hopefully in bed. A strange bed. In a strange room. Away from me.
"Its not fair!" my mind cried as I hit harder, "He's so little. He needs me."
*when it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love
You'll understand what I mean when I say
There's no way we're gonna give up
And like a little boy cries in the face of a monster that lives in his dreams *
Tears fell down my face now, thinking of Gray having a bad dream and wanting me to come. I stopped punching and clutched the bag, just hugging it. My breathing became choked as I sobbed and tried to catch my breath.
*Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe *