Never in my life had I felt so…

…

…

Let me start over.

I could have finished that sentence with about a half-dozen things off of the top of my head. There was a myriad of thoughts flowing through my mind, fueled by adrenaline and rage and some of that (unfortunately) poured out like blood. I was angry. I was hurt. I was embarrassed by what I had done. The one thing I wasn’t, in that moment, was surprised – not by Danny Richards… not by myself… anybody. I hated that Richards attacked me from behind trying to make a statement out of it. But what I hated even more was how I reacted to it. Not so much that I could have killed The Modern Day Joker in front of thousands of fans, the millions watching at home et cetera. I would just be getting the last laugh (get it?)… if not for the hordes of security and EMTs prying me away from my slaughter. I hated it because I could have killed Daniel Richards in front of one fan in particular. A dark haired girl who had been traveling great distances to hang out and watch me wrestle every other week…

…and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure why.

I guess I was ashamed to show her who I really was.

Walking back through the curtain – or should I say having been strongly directed toward the back – I can still remember what it felt like. Richards got me pretty good, it wasn’t the worst I’ve ever been beat up but it was a strong contender for the top five. Oh well. What’s really coming back is that sick feeling of breathing through my nose and smelling my own blood. I remember… I could literally feel it flowing down my face and thinking about how ugly I felt and how glad I was to be out of the public eye. The high of the fight wore down not so much in a gradual sense… it was more like falling off of a fifteen foot ladder or the second level balcony at the Hammerstein – a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment – I became a literal rag-doll in seconds and I felt like someone had snatched out my entire skeletal structure out from inside me.

I was still angry and still hurt… still… hate driven enough to put one wobbly leg in front of the other, so I did. Maybe it was all the blood loss or maybe things just happened so fast, but I do remember telling at least two of Carnage’s medical staff to fuck off (very politely I might add) while reminding a third that Richards needed their help more than I did. (Because I’m nice like that.)

I didn’t make it two short steps past the gorilla position before I was approached by Bridges and his assistant Cherie Von Allen. I knew right away by the look on Cherie’s face that either I looked pretty banged up or I looked like a monster. Maybe in hindsight it was a bit of both. Bridges, on the other hand, approached me as if he were going to throw me in a big bearhug and tell me how proud he was of me, almost as tight as he was still clutching that drink. That was, until, he saw the blood on my face and the flow dripping down onto my clothes. Then he pulled back as if I were diseased.

“Maggie, Maggie…” He said my name twice. It was at that moment that I distinctly remember smelling the alcohol on his breath. It wasn’t a secret… He had probably been drinking, ehh, since at least the show began, if not before. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I spat… a lie I’ve told so often that I can even make myself believe it. “Richards ain’t.”

“Oh fuck him,” Bridges chimed back. “I’m more worried about you.”

“Sure you are.” I snap back… his words from mere minutes earlier still freshly plaguing my mind.

The more the seconds ticked by, the harder it was to stay upright. But I was still motivated by all the feels. I could push through the pain if it meant making it to a mirror. I had to see who I was… I had to stitch up the wounds and make myself presentable. I had to make myself Maggie once again, because I honestly felt in that moment as if someone had taken that right away from me.

“What he did out there tonight was absolutely reprehensible, but I’ll handle the repercussions myself. I don’t want you doing what you just did out there to anyone else. Do you hear me? That’s not the way that I like to do business. He will be severely punished for his actions, but he’ll be punished by me.” Bridges paused to take a sip of his cocktail. “I can assure you of that.”

I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it – the up/down, left/right bullshit – so I kept my mouth shut and my feet moving forward. I knew it would upset Bridges, make him feel disrespected, but I didn’t care. That’s when Cherie stepped up. She could tell that I wasn’t doing so well. She placed her hand on my shoulder carefully.

“You really need to let the EMTs check you out,” she said with all of the genuine concern in the world and a frown on her face. “You look rough.”

“Heh,” I fired back, I just wasn’t in the mood for anything except a shower and maybe a drink of my own. “I’ve been worse.”

Bridges stepped right in front of me… blocked my path. He threw his hand up and pressed the tip of his finger into the center of my chest.

“No, see, this is your problem sweetheart. You need to listen and do as you are told. Don’t you understand that we care about you-”

That’s when it happened.

I couldn’t take the condescension any longer. If by nothing more than reaction alone, I swiped hard with my arm to push his hand out of the way. What I ended up doing, however, was deliver a strong backhand to his stiff drink instead… knocking the glass to the floor… shattering it in a million pieces

I pointed my finger straight into his chest and I…

I shouted…

“No!” Bridges backed away forcing me to continue to step into him until his back was pressed against the wall and he had no place else to go. “I’ve listened long enough… now it’s time that you listen!”

I could feel Cherie grab me by the arm. But I was soaked in blood. She had no chance of holding me.

“I’ve done EVERYTHING I can to work my way back up… to rectify MY mistakes! To show you that your investment in me was worth it! I’m DONE playing these games!” I shouted right in his face. That’s when I put my finger to my own chest. “When are you going to appreciate that, huh? Do you think that I want to get my ass kicked every other week? Huh? Do you think that what just happened out there was acceptable? Because let me tell you something, Boss, I don’t give a damn what you do to Richards. If he EVER attacks me like that again, these people are going to be carrying him out of here in a fucking bodybag! That’s how this goes!”

Bridges was too stunned, or too drunk to reply to me… so I just kept shouting.

“…and as far as Melody goes…”

Cherie grabbed me by the shoulder. “Maggie, you need to calm down,” she said with a sense of urgency this time. “You’ve lost so much blood… We’ve got to get you-”

Still, I kept my focus, my rage, on Bridges.

“The same goes for her, too! I know she put Richards up to this! …and look at what happened! Look at me!” I said almost pleading with him. “She’s god-knows-where trying to get the fuck out of here… but she’ll take the time to have her boy try to injure me? No… hah… nuh-uh… that ain’t gonna work. Actually, I’m fucking glad that she showed her true colors here tonight, cause at the Pay Per View… I’m going to make this-” referring to my own blood “look like a fucking papercut!”

My hands were shaking. My legs were shaking. The voices in the background, and even Cherie’s who was standing right next to me, sounded like they were fading in and out. I knew that this was not good.

“How dare you!” Bridges finally shouted back. “After everything I’ve done for you?! You have the nerve… you have the audacity to threaten one of my greatest champions… after I explicitly told you not to?!”

“I’m one of your greatest champions!”

“No! You’re not!”

Bridges shoved me away from him. I had no energy… and no balance. I fell straight to the floor. I looked up and Bridges was standing right over me, pointing down at me.

“You’re just an ungrateful little girl who has continuously spat on every ounce of generosity that I’ve ever given you!” He screamed so that everyone could hear. “Now I know there’s a reason why I found you rotting away in that miserable little jail cell they kept you in. You’re a fucking liability, Maggie. I should have left you right where you belong, in a fucking cage!”

I reached for the ground to try to pick myself up. But I couldn’t. I tried reaching for his hand, but he only slapped mine away.

“You push away anyone who could ever find any reason to love or care about you, don’t you, you miserable little bitch!”

Bridges raised his hand. This time to slap me… but Cherie stepped in the way.

“No! Stop it!” She shouted. With her body between us, I’m not sure exactly who her words were directed to. “Don’t you dare!”

“Or what?”

Bridges shoved Cherie to the side almost effortlessly just so he could point his finger down in my face again.

“If anything happens to Melody Lennox at Relentless, I am holding YOU personally responsible! Do you understand me?”

“Go fuck yourself-”

I reach up for his hand again.

This time he hauls off and slaps me hard across the face.

The force whips my head around. I black out.

…

…

…

I came to in a hospital bed… later found out I was in admittance of one of the nearby ERs.

I was jarred awake, by something. Not quite sure what. I just remember sitting up thinking that Jason Bridges was still standing over me, hounding me, taunting me. Instead I see Cherie’s face as she’s leaning over the bed. She’s trying to calm me down, telling me to relax as she gently pushes my head back down on the pillow. I could hear the heart rate monitor beeping… I looked over to see the IV platelets being piped into my arm. Standing next to Cherie is Amber, with some mixed look of concern and… something else… on her face. Perhaps she was relieved to see me? I know I was relieved to see her.

I reached for the bedsheet almost instantly out of instinct. I wanted to hide my face… hide the blood. But I was admittedly too weak to even accomplish that – and it wasn’t like Amber didn’t already see the worst of it anyway. I felt stupid, I felt weak… I felt everything that I’ve ever thought wrong and bad about myself… and I wanted to die.

Cheries soft voice came over me. “Shh… shh…” I could feel her hand still on my forehead. “I need you to rest, okay? He’s not here. He’s not here.”

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I glanced over at Amber, only to suddenly look away because I didn’t want her to see me at my lowest. What little bit of distance I had between the back of my head and the pillow was gone. My will to fight anything was gone. I felt naked. I felt exposed.

“You lost a lot of blood.” Cherie whispered close enough to my ear so I could hear it. “I had to have the ambulance bring you here. I had no choice. But you’re here now. The doctor is going to take care of you, okay?”

No matter how hard I had tried to fight it before, I couldn’t help the stream of tears that I felt falling down the length of my face.

I nodded my head.

I was not okay.

…and I knew, deep down, that it was my fault.