Under Attack 2020 #2
October 12th
Los Angeles
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I had calmed down from a few days before, when I was blindsided with the revalation that my birth mother, who I had been told for all my life died when I was a baby.... isn't really dead. She's actually the woman who claimed she found my mother dead while still holding me, Gail McCarthy. All I knew was that Gail was the woman who actually died, and my mother took her identity. I pretty much lost my shit, disappeared for a few hours, ended up drunk at Ashley's apartment, had sex with him, before Tommy finally found me there and took me home. The rest of the weekend I stayed in bed, only getting up to get food and use the restroom. I didn't know what to do with myself. My entire life I was the girl who had no mother, and that wasn't true anymore. I had a mother who didn't want me.
Finally, Monday morning I decided I had to do something. I had already agreed to meet with Gail later this week (I refused to call her my mother's name), but I was uneasy about it. There was only one other person I could think of who might have had more information than I was given all my life, so I went to Los Angeles to the Social Services office, to see my old social worker, Jennifer Martin. I made myself dress in a more conservative way than I prefer, in jeans and a top that wasn't tight or cut to show off my chest. In fact, the blue button up number actually hung a little loose. I did my hair up in one long braid, and put on boots. I actually didn't hate it when I looked in the mirror.
I got to the Social Services office and went up to the woman at the reception desk.
“Hi, I'm here to see Jennifer Martin.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. Do I need one?”
“Usually. She may be available though. What's your name?”
“Kandis.”
The woman raises an eyebrow at me. “Is that like Madonna?”
I glared. “Yes, actually.”
The woman glared back. “I'm sorry, but I'm going to need a full name. Security reasons.”
“Fine. Park. Kandis Park.” I fucking hate my name.
“Thank you, Ms. Park. One moment.” She started clicking on a computer, then typed something. “Oh. It appears Ms. Martin has meetings all day today. Would you like to make-”
“No. What I would like, is for you to pick up that phone, press the intercom button that I know exists, and tell Jennifer I'm here. I promise you she will make time for me.”
We glared at each other a few seconds. She never broke eye contact as she picked up the phone and made the page. “Ms. Martin? I'm sorry to bother you, but there is a woman here who would like to see you.... yes I told her. She says you will make time for her.... Kandis P- oh... yes. Of course.” The woman slams the phone down. “You can go through that door there. Second office on the right.”
I smirked at her. “Fuck you very much.” I started to walk away.
“Excuse me?!”
I turned back, with a fake sweet smile. “I said, thank you very much.” I don't think she believed me.
I went down the hallway as directed, and even if I hadn't been told what door to go to, I would have found it, there was a name plate on Jennifer's door. I knocked.
“Come in.”
I walked in, and Jennifer was seated at her desk. It looked exactly as I remembered as a teenager, with folders and papers spread everywhere, despite the fact this was a different office than I used to see her at. She gave me a smile.
“Kandis! It's good to see you, even if it's unannounced.”
I didn't bother smiling. “Good to see you too, but I didn't just bulldoze my way past your guard dog for a social visit.”
Jennifer then noticed my attitude and adjusted hers. She was always good at that.
“Okay. Why don't you have a seat and tell me what you're here for? Is everything okay with your brother and Carla?”
I sat, and waved my hand in the air. “Oh, they're fine. I'm not here about that Carla.”
“I don't understand...”
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“About my mother!”
“I'm not sure what you're asking me, I've told you everything I knew about your mother years ago.”
“Oh, so you had no idea that Gail McCarthy is actually Carla Destrehan?”
Jennifer sat back in her chair and stared at me. In that instant I knew – she didn't know.
“What?!”
“You heard me.”
“My God... you have to know that if I knew this I would have told you.”
“I believe you. Just your reaction tells me that.”
She nodded. “How did you find this out?”
“She told me. I brought Corey to meet her. She tried to blow it off, and I guess that was why. He knew who she was as soon as he saw her.”
Jennifer shook her head in disbelief. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Did she lie? I mean you're what, thirty-three?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. I ran out of there as soon as she admitted it. I wasn't really interested in the details. All I heard was... I faked my death to get rid of you.”
Jennifer leaned over on her desk and gave me the compassionate look I always liked about her.
“Oh no, sweetie. There had to be a good reason. Mother's don't just-”
“Well she did.”
I folded my arms, like a petulant child. Sitting in front of Jennifer and talking about this shit must have made me revert back to being fifteen or something.
“And you haven't talked to her since?”
“No. Well... a minute. I eventually returned one of her dozen phone calls and agreed to meet with her later this week. But I don't know if I'm gonna go.”
“I think you should.”
“Yeah? So does Tommy. And Sydney. But they're not me.”
“They're not. But they haven't known you as long as I have. I know you've questioned for a long time why you were spared when your mother died. Maybe hearing what she has to say, why she did what she did, will give you some sense of.... I don't know, closure? Your place in the world.”
“I don't know, Jen. What if it's something stupid and just makes all of this worse?”
“I don't see how it could be worse. To me it seems like she wanted a better life for you than she could give you, and this was the way she found to do that.”
I scoffed. “A better life? You sound like Sydney. She thinks I should be grateful because what she did probably saved my life. But was I really better off living? Everything I went through as a child... shitty foster parents, the ones who sent me back, abandoned me, because they thought I was too much trouble? What about the ones who hurt me, the bad schools... the Andersons?” Jennifer cringed. Danny Anderson was a foster parent who raped me when I was fourteen. It was the last placement I had before going to stay with the Williamsons. “You tell me Jen, did she really do me a favor?”
Jennifer leaned back in her chair again and sighed. I knew she knew everything I had just rattled off already. She had been my social worker since I was ten years old. No one knew me better.
“I don't think that's something I can answer. Only you can decide that. But, I don't think you can make that decision without hearing what she has to say. You're throwing out a lot of what if's and assumptions.”
I looked down, I still had my arms crossed. Jennifer was usually right about deep shit, I loved and hated her for it. She made me think too much. “Maybe you and Tommy are right.”
“So you'll meet with her?”
I looked up. “Yeah, probably.” Jennifer nodded, with a small grin. “Look, I'm sorry I came in here yelling at you. I just-”
“I understand. You have every right to be upset. I swear to you I had no idea.”
“I know.” I smiled a bit. She'd never lied to me before, there was no reason for her to do so now. “Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime, sweetie. You haven't been 'my kid' in a long time, but you'll always be my favorite.”
“Really?”
In answer, she just smiled.
I left feeling a little better than when I got there. I still felt like I got shafted no matter which way you looked at it, but for the first time since Saturday when Gail admitted the truth, I felt like maybe she had good intentions.
October 14th
Santa Barbara
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It was late in the afternoon, Tommy and I were at Ante Up. The classes for the day were over so there wasn't hardly anyone else in the place, other than the one evening staff member, and one student who decided to stay and work on her cardio. Didn't bother us any. We were far from the cardio area of the building, near the weights. Since everything went down over the weekend, we'd avoided talking about what happened. Both about my mother... and about Ashley.
I grunted, and Tommy smirked at me. “You really are working it today babe.”
“Got to. I gotta make up for lost time over the weekend.”
He made a sound similar to mine. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
I paused to catch my breath, then pushed again. “I shouldn't go so long without this.”
He smirked at me again. “Right, you gotta keep your stamina up.”
“As if that's ever a problem.” I laughed. Tommy grunted one more time, harder... then rested bar he was bench pressing on the rack overhead before sitting up.
What did you think we were doing? We'd also only talked about our upcoming matches in passing, but this day decided to put in some work in getting ready for Under Attack. I did the last rep for my set on the leg press, and sat up.
“You're right, it isn't.” I grinned as I grabbed my water bottle that was on the floor nearby. “Speaking of.... and I realize this is a pretty flimsy segue, but are we ever going to discuss what happened a few days ago when you ended up at Ashley's place?”
“You want to talk about that now?”
Tommy shrugged. “Why not?”
I sighed. He had a point. I guess we'd both been avoiding it, not just me. There was no one around, so it didn't matter. “Okay.”
“Okay. Well?”
“Well, what?”
He sighed. “What happened?”
“Come on, I know you know what happened, you said so when you got there!”
“I assumed. I didn't know.”
“Fine, I'll say it. We fucked. Is that what you want?”
“Okay, now I know.”
I looked down at the water bottle in my hands. “I'm sorry.”
“You think I'm mad?”
I looked up, confused. “You're not?”
“No. How could I be? I'm the one who asked you to do exactly that in the first place.”
“That was different. I didn't do it for you this time, I did it for me.”
“Yeah, but you wouldn't have seen that as an option if I hadn't previously asked you to.”
“That's probably true.” I looked down at m water again. I had a feeling Tommy wasn't going to let this go at just getting me to admit it.
“So, what actually happened?”
I sighed. I knew it. I explained how I'd gone to Ante Up to look for him and he wasn't there, so Ashley made me leave before I broke something or hurt myself, and how he thought going to a bar or something was a bad idea, so we went back to his apartment.
“And then, I don't know. I'd just had everything about my life turned inside out. You were busy... and I guess I really only know one way to feel like I have any kind of control over anything. Whether you're mad or not, I'm still sorry. I thought I was past having random sex for that reason.”
“You are. But like you said, you had everything turned inside out. I wouldn't call it random, he's a guy you'd been with before – because of me - and it was a... temporary lapse. Given everything I know about your past, it's perfectly understandable. Besides, regardless your motive, it still helps my purpose.”
“I'm glad my life crisis fits in well with your manipulations.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“I wasn't being sarcastic. Might as well get something good out of this fuckery.” Tommy nodded. “So, if you're not mad, why did you basically make me say it?”
“I wanted to be certain before I tried to talk to the kid. He's avoiding me.”
“No surprise there, despite the fact you told him it was fine.”
“Maybe he didn't realize that's what I meant.”
“Nah, he knew. He has that naive act down pretty good but I could tell. More likely he doesn't want you to change your mind.”
“Maybe. I almost feel bad asking you this with everything you have going on right now, but... how open are you to the possibility of letting this continue as long as it needs to continue?”
I shrugged. “Okay. Might as well at this point, right?”
“You're allowed to say no, if you're not comfortable with it anymore.” He gave me a look, like maybe he thought my thinking had also lapsed back to when I had this thing where I wanted him to tell me what to do. That experiment hadn't worked out well, and I didn't think that anymore at all. It was kinda sweet the way he said it anyway, though.
“No, it's fine. It'll keep him away from your kid, and... well, he's pretty good at it.”
Tommy actually laughed. “Is that right?”
“I mean, he's not you. But yeah.” I smirked.
“Look, I know that you enjoyed a good bit of variety before I tied you down-”
“You haven't tied me down. Yet.” I smirked.
“Hmm... don't give me ideas. But... as I was saying, before me you had variety. I know after the Hemingway thing I said I wanted you to myself for a while. But then I asked you to do this with Ashley. I guess I ended that decree myself. Point being, if you want or need that variety back, at least this guy is a guy a guy I trust.”
“And it keeps him off your daughter's ass.”
“Well yeah, that too. Literally.”
“Just making sure that doesn't get lost, let's not pretend you're totally okay with this just for me. You have your own reasons.”
Tommy nodded. “You're right. I do. That's not a reason we can't both be content with the arrangement.”
I looked at him thoughtfully a few seconds. I wondered if something else had changed, like some other girl caught his attention. All this time we've been together, I had my other fucks here and there, and even though I told him it was fine and only fair, he hadn't fucked around himself. If that was the case, I didn't really mind. Fair is fair, right? I just hoped that he would tell me about it. Maybe after my shitstorm stopped blowing. “Okay.”
“Alright.”
We both took a drink of water from our bottles at the same time.
“So, what are we working on next?”
Tommy pointed to the main floor area of the gym. “Pick a ring, any ring. Care to spar?”
“I thought you'd never ask.”
We left the weights area and went down to one of the rings that's the same size as the SCW ring. We spent a few hours sparring, working on different moves, practicing finishers and submissions. It was pretty late by the time we called it quits, and I felt better than I had in days after the vigorous training. It was the kind of blood pumping and cardio that I needed to get my head back into fighting mode. There was still the meeting with Gail at the end of the week, but after focusing on work for a whole day, I felt like I could handle it before turning my full attention to the task I had ahead of me in the Chamber.
October 16th
Los Angeles
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I know I said I was okay with agreeing to meet with Gail McCarthy (I still couldn't make myself call her by the other name), but as soon as I parked in the lot of the diner she'd asked me to meet her at, I had second, third, and even fourth thoughts. I could see her, she was sitting at a booth near a window. Every now and then she looked at her watch. First she seemed expectant, even hopeful. Then the longer I sat there debating with myself and watching her, she got increasingly upset. Not mad, but disappointed. After I was twenty minutes “late,' I decided I was being a bitch and a child, and made myself get out of my car and walk in. As soon as she saw me, she smiled, relieved. I figured I'd at least hear what she had to say, then decide if I should tell her to fuck off or not.
I sat across from Gail at the booth. A server came over, and I resisted the urge to order a beer, instead asking for a Coke. It was too late in the day and too warm for coffee.
“It's good to see you, for a while there I wasn't sure you were coming.”
“Neither was I.”
Gail nodded. “Understandable. I'm glad you came in spite of things.”
“I figured I had nothing left to lose.”
She cringed a bit. “I hope that once you hear me out, you'll understand and maybe forgive me.”
“One step at a time here, Gail, okay?” I emphasized the name to make it clear I did not consider her my mother. Not yet.
“Fair enough. Before I explain why I did what I did with you, you have to understand why I left home in the first place. I know you were told I went west because I wanted to be an actress. That's not true.”
“I didn't think it was.”
“The truth is... I left to escape from the man who assaulted me.”
I shook my head. “Of course you did. It's never ending cycle.”
Gail nodded sadly. “He was someone I had been dating a few months. I didn't know he was dangerous until it was almost too late. He was a friend of Corey's, I trusted him. But then he... he raped me...” She squeezed her eyes shut. I knew that reaction. I felt bad for her, despite my skepticism about this. “So, I packed a bag and I left Lafayette. I had gone to Florida once with my parents on vacation, so I went there first. It was the only other place in the country I had been. I was there about two weeks when it occurred to me that my parents might remember that and think to look for me there. So, then I made my way to Los Angeles.”
“I guess money stretched further in the eighties.”
“Well, I had savings from my job. I was still living with my parents. Once I got here, I found an apartment, a tiny studio. Not much bigger than a normal sized bedroom in a house, really. Took all of my savings to rent the place. I got a job, waiting tables. The place paid a real wage, not like most diners where waitresses had to depend on tips. So I did well for a few months. But then, I realized I was pregnant. From the rape. I tried to hide it but my boss noticed, and I was fired. It didn't take long for me to lose the apartment. I-”
“Wait a minute. I was always told that my mother- you, I guess, were in LA for a year or two before meeting Gail at the food bank.”
Gail nodded. “I gave misinformation on purpose. I didn't want my attacker to ever find me.” I nodded, it made sense I guess. “So, I lost the apartment. I was about six months pregnant. I only had some clothes and a few things I had picked up for the baby to call my own. It all fit inside a duffel bag and a backpack. I went to the first shelter I could find. They sent me to the food back, and that's where I met Gail. She was the aspiring actress, not me. We became good friends. Helped each other on the streets, and in shelters when we could get in them. She delivered you. At night, in an alley behind a movie theater. Then winter came. Gail was sick most of the time. She would go to the ER, they would give her some over the counter medicine and send her away. I think in the end she had pneumonia.”
I nodded, that sounded familiar. “That's what I was told about how my mother died. Like they did an autopsy or something.”
“Oh I doubt that, the city wouldn't have spared the expense on a homeless woman. They probably took what I told them and ran with it.”
I shrugged. She was probably right, I never thought about it really. “Right. So, about her. Her death.”
“Yes. We were sleeping in the park, under a large tree. It was still chilly overnight, I had laid out all of our blankets to keep us and you warm. When I woke up, you were awake. Quiet though. I looked over to Gail, and saw her very pale. It was then I knew. She wasn't the first dead person I had seen on the streets. I looked at you... underfed, malnourished, and wondered how long it would be before you were next. I didn't really know how to feed a baby on the streets, shelters and food banks didn't really give out baby food or formula. I was malnourished myself to the point I didn't produce milk. So I had an idea. It came on me all of a sudden and I acted without thinking. I wrapped you up, put you in Gail's arms, and went to the street. I waved down a policeman, and when he stopped, I.... I told him you were hers and she had died overnight.”
“Fuck.... sorry.”
She waved off my cussing and apology. “He took me and you to the station. They checked you over. You never cried once, not even when they took you out of my arms. They started offering me all this help. Shelters and food banks and assistance programs. Better places than Gail and I frequented, we didn't know about them. As I sat there while they explained all this to me, it crossed my mind to tell them you were really mine, that I lied to save you, since they had all these programs and things that could help.”
“Why didn't you?”
“I was afraid. I though I would get into trouble for making a false report. Or that they wouldn't believe me, and think I just wanted to keep her baby for myself. So when they asked me for my name.... I told them I was Gail McCarthy, and she was Carla, but I never knew her last name. If Carla disappeared, then my attacker would never find me.”
“So, you gave up literally everything. Your whole family, your baby... just to keep this guy from finding you? You could have gone to the police, told them he raped you-”
She started shaking her head hard. “No, nono. He told me if I ever told anyone or called the police, he would kill me. I was young and dumb, I believed him. In my head at the time, I had no other choice. My baby – you – was about a month away from starving to death, and if I didn't have you then the rest of my family didn't matter. I just wanted both of us to be safe.”
I shook my head. I didn't know how much of this I believed, or wanted to believe. But I couldn't think of anything else to say.
“The authorities got me into a shelter, they set me up in this program that helped homeless women get on their feet, trained them for jobs. I ended up working at the shelter they sent me to, the same one I still work for. Every so often I would call and ask for updates about 'my friend's baby.' They told me you were in State care, then in the foster program. That satisfied me that I had done right by you, that you would be taken care of.”
I scoffed. “You would think. You don't have any idea what the foster program is like, do you?”
“I didn't then. I do now.”
“Oh, so then you know that up until I was about six, I didn't know other kids had real families with parents? I thought everyone grew up in group homes. Until I went to kindergarten and talked to normal kids. Once they found out I wasn't like them, I wasn't their friend anymore.”
“That's terrible.”
I leaned forward on the table a bit. Gail told me her sob story, now she was going to hear mine.
“Oh, you think that's terrible? What about the foster homes where I was ignored except to get yelled at? Or the ones that sent me back because I was too much trouble for them, when all I did was ask for something I liked for dinner? Or I fought back at school when half a dozen kids jumped me? Then it was back to the group home, where the staff there treated us more like animals in a no-kill shelter rather than little humans. Not all the foster homes were bad, but most of the schools were. Do you have any idea what it's like to always be the new kid?”
“I.... I don't....”
“Those are the ones that either ignored me or didn't want me. But there was the one foster parent who wanted me too much! You remember Danny Anderson, right? You told me you read it in the news.”
Gail cringed. “I remember. I am so, so, terribly sorry that happened to you. I know how hard it is to handle.”
I shook my head. “No, no you don't. You were raped once. This motherfucker did it repeatedly. Over three months, before he hurt me bad enough that I called my social worker crying in the middle of the night to get me out of there. I was fourteen.”
Gail gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. I could see tears welling up. I didn't have it in me to get emotional about it anymore, talking about it now was just stating fact, like... grass is green, water is wet. “My God.... I... I had no idea. The news about you and the little girl having the same attacker didn't say that.”
“No, the news focused more on her experience, not mine.”
“I can't even imagine....”
“No? Can you imagine me knowing about that tree I was found under, one of the social services people told me about it. All of the foster homes that treated me like shit or just ignored me, and I'd run away, and go sit under that tree and wish that I had just died with her? Can you imagine that?”
The tears that were in her eyes fell. Seeing it made me feel better. That probably sounds psychopathic or something, but I needed her to know what I'd gone through because of her.
“Words don't exist that can express how truly sorry I am about all of that. I never wanted you to suffer. I thought what I did was the best thing I could do for you. Living, even in state care, was better than dying before you were a year old.”
“Was it really? Or is that just what you tell yourself at night so you can sleep, knowing you abandoned a child just to save yourself?”
Gail leaned on the table too, looking directly in my eyes. It made me uncomfortable but I didn't flinch. “Kandis. You have to understand something. If I hadn't done what I did, if I had just walked away from Gail and let police find her on their own, you would have died. It wouldn't have been long. And I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I stood by and watched that happen. I saw an opening to give you something better than I could and I took it. I've seen a lot of things working in that shelter since... abuse, death, murder. I've had to make some hard decisions that affected people's lives. But to this very day.... the hardest thing I have ever done was sit in that police station and say nothing while they took you away.”
She had tears in her eyes again, and for the first time since last Saturday when I found out the truth, I started to think maybe she really did believe she had done the best she could. I had no answer for what she'd just said. She wiped her face with a napkin.
“Years later, I contacted the state office again, and they put me in touch with your social worker, Jennifer. She and I remained in contact over the years.”
“Jennifer told me she'd spoken to you. When I was... thirteen, maybe? Before the Andersons.” I don't know what made me say that, after I had just been so rude and angry.
“I thought about telling her who I really am. Telling you. But I knew I'd be in trouble, I'd literally stolen someone's identity. It was too late.” I started to get mad and say something mean again, but she spoke over me. “And maybe that was wrong, maybe I could have done things differently. But I didn't know better. I did what I thought I had to do to get you off the streets, to save you. And seeing you sitting here now.... grown, successful, beautiful... if I had it to do over again, I would. Because you're here. You survived. That's all I wanted.”
“Yeah, I survived. You, the State, the foster homes that tried to break me. Jennifer was the first adult I ever trusted, and I met her when I was ten. She was the only adult I trusted until I had been with the Williamsons for almost a year.”
“I can't say enough how sorry I am for everything you've had to go through. I know it's my fault. Yet, I don't regret what I did.”
“Not at all?”
She shook her head. “Only the pain you've clearly suffered. But, I say again... you survived. That's what's important,”
Fuck me, but I believed her. She hadn't wanted to give me up. She thought she had to. She thought I was going to literally die, and telling police my mother was dead was the only way to get me taken care of.
“What about Corey? Your parents?”
Gail sighed. “That... was hard. Over the years I got used to it, but I missed them every day. After you... left, Saturday, I told Corey and his daughter everything. He never knew his friend had hurt me, he wished I had told him instead of running away. Turns out that man went to prison for murdering a girlfriend.”
“Fuck's sake...” Great. Not only was my father a rapist but also a murderer. What did that make me?
“Corey said in hindsight it was probably good that I left.”
“So this man, my father... is he still in prison? Is he still alive?”
“I don't know. Corey didn't say. And I don't care to find out.”
“What's his name?”
Gail shook her head. “I won't tell you. I ran away to get away from him, I will not send you to him. He doesn't know you exist and it's better that way.”
“I could just ask Corey.”
“He can tell you if he wishes. I won't.”
We just looked at each other a few seconds.
“Okay. Maybe it's for the best.”
“Thank you.”
I sighed. I had gone from practically hating this woman to believing she truly thought she did the best she could with what she had. She didn't want to abandon me. She thought she had to.
“Okay, so... can I ask you a few things?”
“Of course. Anything at all.”
“Did you really give me my name? Or did the social services people just tell me that?”
“I did. I even made sure the police spelled it right, I told them Gail had spelled it for me, that she had plans to get some things made with the name once she got on her feet.”
I nodded. I knew better than to ask about the last name, she'd already said she told them she didn't know Carla's last name. “The state listed the day they found me as my birthday. When was I actually born?”
Gail smiled. “October thirty-first.”
I grinned. That oddly made sense. “So I was about six months old. They said they thought four but maybe I was just small.”
Gail nodded. “You were very small. I suppose listing the day they took you was the best thing to do.”
“I wonder if there's any way to change that?”
“I doubt it. You have no proof.”
“Good point. I could probably change my name if I wanted....”
“Oh, no. Please. You can't. Carla Destrehan has been dead for a long time, and she needs to stay that way. It's enough for me that you and Corey know the truth. But I have to remain Gail to the world.”
“I could base it on the DNA test Corey and I had done, nothing to do with you....” She looked horrified at that idea, shaking her head. I wasn't sure why, but I stopped. “Okay. I won't.”
“Thank you. And thank you for listening to me. If you don't want to see me again after this, I understand. I lied to... well, everyone, for over thirty years. I just needed you to hear why.”
I stayed quiet a few seconds, thinking over everything. I wanted to hate her, I really did. But I didn't. I couldn't. “You know, I came here fully expecting to hear some bullshit story and end this with me telling you to fuck off and leave me alone. But I can't do that. I believe you did what you thought was right at the time.” She looked surprised. “I do. You had to protect yourself. I understand that. I've done things that most people don't or wouldn't, or that I get looked down on over, for the same reason.” Okay, so it wasn't quite the same reason, but protecting myself from being hurt by not letting anyone get close until recently, is still self-preservation. “Maybe one day I'll explain it all to you.”
“One day?”
“Yeah. I think it'll be okay to keep in touch.”
Gail smiled, and I smiled back. I could see she was about to cry again, so I handed her a napkin. She laughed even as she wiped her face.
My mother isn't dead.
My mother is alive.
ON CAMERA
Elimination Chamber.
Those words strike fear into the hearts of many wrestlers. They're afraid of cages. They're afraid of the other five competitors. They're afraid of being hurt. Afraid of the lengths they'll have to go to in order to survive and win.
Others? They savor it. They salivate over the idea of all of those things. The violence, the no means of escape, the opportunity to maim everyone locked in the cage with them.
Where do I fall? Somewhere in the middle.
I've never been inside one of these. I've fought in cages but not one like this. If I claimed to not be intimidated by the structure at all, I'd be lying. Yet.... I jumped at the chance to get inside it. I was the first person to show interest after Peyton Rice suggested it. For some it represents danger, for me? It's opportunity.
The winner of this thing gets to make a choice. Challenge for either the Adrenaline or United States Championship. I've had a crack at the Adrenaline before, a long time ago. I failed. It's okay, I'm not mad about it. It happened and I moved on. That's what I do, right? I talk myself up, make it sound like I'm gonna kick the ass of whoever is in the ring with me.... but then I don't. And I don't let it bother me, I just move on.
Well, now I'm bothered.
I heard what Jordan Majors had to say about me last week. You know, after she stopped obsessing over my ass. She went in hard over my record. Tagging with Tommy? All good, most of the time. Yeah we've had some setbacks but we are also three time Tag Team Champions. Me on my own? Not that great. It's enough for me to hear rumors and whispers backstage that I'm only in the position I'm in because of Tommy. I mean look, he's main eventing this show, fighting to be the next World Champion! Something he's deserved to get a chance at for a long time. Me? Who have I beat? What have I done?
Don't you think I know all of that? Don't you think it doesn't eat at me every time I see myself booked in a singles match? Welp, here I go to lose again, I can't win by myself. Just more ammo for the haters to continue to claim that I'm nothing without Tommy Valentine and he carries me to every win I've ever had.
Fuck that.
I'm sick of that!
I've been looking at this all wrong, the whole time I've been here. I never wanted to be the kind of bitch who screams and complains and gets angry at every loss. But take a look at the people who do that. They're the ones who have success. They're the ones who push themselves as hard as they can, because they don't want to lose. They want to succeed, they want to be champions! Perfect example.... Bree Lancaster. She fully admitted to being beat fair by David Helms at Rise to Greatness... that didn't stop her from being mad about it and demanding a rematch. And look! She got it!
I'm rarely the one to talk about my personal life in public, so this may come as a shock to a lot of you, but I didn't have the greatest childhood. I was orphaned as a baby and grew up between the care of State homes and foster families. It wasn't until I was a teenager in high school that I was finally placed with a family who acted like they gave a shit about me. You've heard me say many times before that I have had to fight my whole life to be recognized, to be acknowledged, to survive. Well, now you know why. A lot of the bullshit from my past has come back to bite me in my sizable ass in the last few weeks, and that put together with the sorry state of my place in this company thus far created a shock to my system.
I was a fighter since before I can remember. Why have I stopped getting angry enough to fight back and take what I want, what I need, what I deserve?
I don't know why or what happened, maybe I got complacent, maybe I didn't want to be lumped in with the other bitches who whine and cry and complain, but I am done with that shit! There won't be any more talk about me being the woman who gets by because she happens to be fucking a Hall of Famer. I am no longer content to be the bitch who follows along and occasionally helps him win Tag Team Titles.
Enter the Elimination Chamber.
This structure is a representation of my entire life up to this point. Pods to be locked in, like the shitty foster homes I was placed in. Prisons to be broken free from, out into the real world where I had to fight to keep myself from being eaten alive. The other competitors? All of the people who have ever fucked with me, assaulted me, hurt me over the years. I know most of the time I give off this air of a free spirit, fun loving woman who loves life's greatest indulgence, sex. And while that's true, I'm also someone who has been through and survived more bullshit than any of you can even imagine. Things that would break at least half of you. Yet here I am, still living, still fighting, defying every expectation that was ever placed on me since the day I entered the care of the State of California.
I could take this little analogy further if I wanted to, equate each of the other five people going into this cage with me with some traumatic event in my life, and detail how I'm going to overcome them like I overcame what happened to me. But I'm not gonna do that. One, because none of you deserve to know the details of my life, it's enough that I've now told you about how I grew up. But more importantly...
…. doing that would make this about all of them. Peyton, someone I have history with going back a few years to Emerge. Aaron, a man who is constantly right on the edge of making it to the upper levels of SCW, yet falls just short. Starr, a Hall of Famer who I know more about than he probably thinks, given how he used to be one of Tommy's best friends. Christy, another Hall of Famer who I'd love to give good kick in the teeth to, and Crystal.... honestly I know nothing about the bitch.
I'm here to tell all of you, that this match isn't about any of you.
It's about me!
It's about my time to put aside all of the bullshit comments, the overlooking and underestimating of me, my own downplaying my failures. It's about me allowing myself to actually be angry. Angry at how I've let myself stop caring, how I've brushed off every loss and setback as no big deal, to the point where I became no big deal.
That's done!
Come Under Attack all five of you, every fan in attendance in that arena, and every motherfucker watching at home is going to realize that while I'm proud of it... I am more that just a fantastic ass with legs. I am more than just Tommy's tag partner and arm candy.
I am more than anyone ever thought I would be!
Just like I turned out to be more than anyone thought I would become when I was a child.
They thought I would die. I'm here. They thought I would become a criminal. I'm not.
You thought I was happy with my place, I am not satisfied. You thought I would give up. I never will!
The motivations of the five of you don't matter to me. What you think of me, doesn't matter to me. All I care about is getting in there, fucking every last one of you up, and walking out with one question on my mind.
Adrenaline? Or United States?
Y'all don't need to weigh your options. It's not gonna be your decision to make.
It's gonna be mine.