Post by wblstudios on Mar 28, 2006 17:14:57 GMT -5
Hotel Room
??:??
"Hello. Noone is available to take your call. Please leave a message."
They all hate you. Everyone hates you. And why shouldn't they? You're a worthless piece of shit.
"Ellis? This is Hank Brown. I wanted to get a few words with you about what happened at the Pay Per View. Call me when you're ready, my number is..."
Jack of Blades hates you obviously. You were stupid to let yourself get attacked. The Team of Treachery hates you because you aided in defeating them. Your own team hates you because you didn't help all that much. The fans hate you because you can't do shit. And God hates you because you're a piece of shit.
"Hey Ellis, it's the Funker. Friend of mine sent me a tape of your work in the WCF. It was a nice start, but I got a couple suggestions for ya..."
Your mother was too fucked up on Vicadin and Prozac and whatever they were shoving down her throat to know you, and even then she'd have hated you. And your dad, fuck yeah. He knew the real you. That's why he chained you up whenever he wasn't using you to deliver his shit. You shit.
"Yo, E. It's Jojo. We met once at the Dojo. Shit, that rhymed. Yo, listen. I was wonderin', can you get me a job? I mean, it's been a couple months since I fuckin' worked, savings gettin' kinda low, and Kikyo-Chan's been on my ass about..."
Every scar on your body meant that someone hated you. The ones from your father, the ones from all those barbed wire matches, and the ones you did to yourself, oh fuck, those are the best. Even you hate yourself. Maybe things would be better if everyone hated you, but you still liked yourself. But if you don't give a shit about yourself, who else is gonna? Bitch.
"Miss Island? It's Officer Kilgannon at the station. It took a little convincing, but that thug who attacked you at Mac's Diner isn't going to press charges. However, we might need your testimony against..."
That's another thing. Ellis Island. That's not even a good last name. What the fuck were you thinking? How much digging is it gonna take before they find your real name? You can't do shit, you can't wrestle worth of shit and
cutcutcutcutcut
Not gonna do it this time, bitch.
cutcutslashslashslash
What the hell are you trying to do?
slashslashslashslashslash
Goddamnit, stop it! You fucking idiot! What is...
slashslashslashslashslash
... you win. Enjoy it while it lasts. Good night, Ellis. Pleasant dreams...
slashslashsla...
---
Broken and bleeding I cry. If anybody saw me now, what would they say? As I lay on the tiles, blood pooling around me like the wings of a butterfly, might this be my last day? Did I move that box cutter one time too many? Is this how it ends?
If it did... who would care?
Nobody.
And that's why I cry.
And that's why I bleed.
And that's why I hate.
Because I'm alone.
Little girls aren't supposed to be beaten. Little girls are supposed to loved. Otherwise they grow up into miserable women. Or they don't grow up at all.
I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't be here.
slash
Blood feels so much like home to me...
---
~Ellis
??:??
"Hello. Noone is available to take your call. Please leave a message."
They all hate you. Everyone hates you. And why shouldn't they? You're a worthless piece of shit.
"Ellis? This is Hank Brown. I wanted to get a few words with you about what happened at the Pay Per View. Call me when you're ready, my number is..."
Jack of Blades hates you obviously. You were stupid to let yourself get attacked. The Team of Treachery hates you because you aided in defeating them. Your own team hates you because you didn't help all that much. The fans hate you because you can't do shit. And God hates you because you're a piece of shit.
"Hey Ellis, it's the Funker. Friend of mine sent me a tape of your work in the WCF. It was a nice start, but I got a couple suggestions for ya..."
Your mother was too fucked up on Vicadin and Prozac and whatever they were shoving down her throat to know you, and even then she'd have hated you. And your dad, fuck yeah. He knew the real you. That's why he chained you up whenever he wasn't using you to deliver his shit. You shit.
"Yo, E. It's Jojo. We met once at the Dojo. Shit, that rhymed. Yo, listen. I was wonderin', can you get me a job? I mean, it's been a couple months since I fuckin' worked, savings gettin' kinda low, and Kikyo-Chan's been on my ass about..."
Every scar on your body meant that someone hated you. The ones from your father, the ones from all those barbed wire matches, and the ones you did to yourself, oh fuck, those are the best. Even you hate yourself. Maybe things would be better if everyone hated you, but you still liked yourself. But if you don't give a shit about yourself, who else is gonna? Bitch.
"Miss Island? It's Officer Kilgannon at the station. It took a little convincing, but that thug who attacked you at Mac's Diner isn't going to press charges. However, we might need your testimony against..."
That's another thing. Ellis Island. That's not even a good last name. What the fuck were you thinking? How much digging is it gonna take before they find your real name? You can't do shit, you can't wrestle worth of shit and
cutcutcutcutcut
Not gonna do it this time, bitch.
cutcutslashslashslash
What the hell are you trying to do?
slashslashslashslashslash
Goddamnit, stop it! You fucking idiot! What is...
slashslashslashslashslash
... you win. Enjoy it while it lasts. Good night, Ellis. Pleasant dreams...
slashslashsla...
---
Broken and bleeding I cry. If anybody saw me now, what would they say? As I lay on the tiles, blood pooling around me like the wings of a butterfly, might this be my last day? Did I move that box cutter one time too many? Is this how it ends?
If it did... who would care?
Nobody.
And that's why I cry.
And that's why I bleed.
And that's why I hate.
Because I'm alone.
Little girls aren't supposed to be beaten. Little girls are supposed to loved. Otherwise they grow up into miserable women. Or they don't grow up at all.
I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't be here.
slash
Blood feels so much like home to me...
---
~Ellis
