Light. A lot of light. Melanie was standing in her backyard. Melanie was standing in her backyard as her older sister was on their tire swing. Mom said it was for all of them to share. She wanted to go on the swing badly. Prue wouldn't get off it. She just stuck her tongue out at her. Suddenly, Prue disappeared. The sun began to shine more intensely. There was a warm, light breeze that wrapped around Melanie like a blanket. She heard someone calling her name.
Melanie turned around. It was her mother. The sun caught her long red hair and her blue eyes sparkled. Melanie smiled. She looked just like her. She was in her mothers arms again as she place Mel on the tire swing. She looked down at her feet. They were so small. Melanie was no longer an adult. She was 6 and wearing a little white dress. Her mother always liked that dress. The swing began to move, the wind brushing against her rosy red cheeks, her pigtails flying in the air. She was home. Melanie called to her mother to push harder so she could catch a cloud. Then, she took a leap of faith, as she jumped off the swing.
A moment later, there was a loud BANG. She looked back at her mother. Her smile had vanished as she fell to the ground. A large red blood staid emerged from her mothers chest as the sky turned black. Young Melanie screamed in horror as her mother lay motionless on the ground, bleeding. A hooded figure emerged from behind the tire swing. He reloaded his gun and pointed it a Melanie.
"Noo! Wait!" Melanie screamed. She looked around. It was pitch black with the exception of the full moon, casting a shadow on every object in her hotel room and her digital clock. 3:16 in the morning. It was all just a dream, and yet Melanie could feel a shiver coming on. She put her hand on her cheek. Cold sweat covered her face.
She turned toward her window. It was wide open… yet she didn't remember opening it. The November cold flooded her room. Somehow, it didn't feel like a dream. It felt more like a memory. The more she thought about it, the less she remembered. Just as she reached out through her sheer white curtains, she spotted a shadowy figure walking out of the hotel and into a limo.
"Hey…Mel are you there?" a voice said coming from her answering machine. Melanie looked up from her paperwork. She knew who it was.
"It's me Lesnar, listen woman I know your there so pick up the fuckin phone." Brock said. Melanie rolled her eyes. Maybe that would have intimidated her a week ago, but not today. Not after what he did.
"Listen, I've been calling you everyday for the past damn week. This is the tenth time!" Brock screamed through the receiver. Melanie shook her head.
"Uh, no actually, it's the thirteenth time smart ass… nice try though." Melanie said out loud. She wishes she could say that to his face. Melanie heard Paul Heyman's voice in the background.
"Come on Brock, we're gonna be late for Smackdown. Just hang up and we'll deal with Marsha tonight." He said. Melanie clenched her fists. Her knuckles were white.
"I'll be right there Paul! Hold it! Listen, I said this in all the other messages. I'll say it again. We need to talk. You clearly don't know haw things work with me. I don't answer to you, you answer to me! I am the… ALL RIGHT HEYMAN I'M COMMIN'! CHRIST!" Brock said followed by a beep.
Melanie felt her blood boil. He was not going to get away with the things he's been saying…much less his actions. She smoothed out her hair and made her way to her car. Regardless of the contemptible champion Smackdown has… the show must go on.
2
