Danger.
Jun 9, 2016 16:03:22 GMT -5
Post by James Joseph Page. on Jun 9, 2016 16:03:22 GMT -5
Prologue: No Change.
Free-will is an abstract idea. Free-will, at it's core, it's nothing more than a coupon--a voucher-- for people like me who think they have a say in how their life is ran. Here I am, being placed in someone else's mountain of horse crap, being forced to fight for nothing. And they've paired me with someone just to counteract this bullshit. Zero McHannon, for all of the self-righteous sewage he spewed towards me, it's almost poetic at how far he's fallen. He loses the FGA World Championship to his "FRIEND" and it ate'em alive that she bested him, so much so he would do ANYTHING...to get it back.
The thing about McHannon is that he can try and justify it because he believes he's not wrong. McHannon, this piece of trash who at one point in his life couldn't even stand to hear his own name, is just as delusional as I am. Just as crazy too, but he won't admit it. Why would he want to? Because he doesn't think he has a problem. He's a puppet just like me, and just like everyone on this wet rock we call HOME. But what infuriates me is that he swore, he'd never become someone like me. He was better, he was gonna prove to me...that ABSOLUTE POWER doesn't corrupt ABSOLUTELY when he won that championship from Chandler Scott. That, the belt would absolve him...of FEAR, of DOUBT, of PARANOIA, or GREED...that FGA would become something more than a breeding ground for the scum of the earth.
And so, each and everytime Zero goes on Twitter with his arrogance, and his SNARK, and his smoke and mirrors; Each time he puts on a front, every time he opens his mouth, only proves how right I was about him. No changing of the guard, just assimilation. And that's sad, that's heartbreaking to a fan who thought people could change. I guess that 15 year old, confused at what he wants to be, who's morally innocent, who believes in people can walk away from this Zero, with this piece of information...
The thing about McHannon is that he can try and justify it because he believes he's not wrong. McHannon, this piece of trash who at one point in his life couldn't even stand to hear his own name, is just as delusional as I am. Just as crazy too, but he won't admit it. Why would he want to? Because he doesn't think he has a problem. He's a puppet just like me, and just like everyone on this wet rock we call HOME. But what infuriates me is that he swore, he'd never become someone like me. He was better, he was gonna prove to me...that ABSOLUTE POWER doesn't corrupt ABSOLUTELY when he won that championship from Chandler Scott. That, the belt would absolve him...of FEAR, of DOUBT, of PARANOIA, or GREED...that FGA would become something more than a breeding ground for the scum of the earth.
Look how that worked out...
And so, each and everytime Zero goes on Twitter with his arrogance, and his SNARK, and his smoke and mirrors; Each time he puts on a front, every time he opens his mouth, only proves how right I was about him. No changing of the guard, just assimilation. And that's sad, that's heartbreaking to a fan who thought people could change. I guess that 15 year old, confused at what he wants to be, who's morally innocent, who believes in people can walk away from this Zero, with this piece of information...
"It's Just Easier To Be An Asshole."
It feels like there's broken glass in the palms of my hands. They ache so much, it's hard to really think. "James?" I heard a voice call out to me. I felt like I was in an empty void, my surroundings were bleak. My breathing's shallow, my lips are dry, I feel like I'm sweating, "James." I heard the voice call out again. I just want to go to sleep, if I sleep it'll go away. The-- "James...!" suddenly everything around me began to form. Dr. Gaines sat there, monitoring me, I blink a couple of times to get my bearings back. "You were daydreaming." She remarked as she wrote inside of her folder. "We were talking about your sleep, have you been getting enough rest? Are the pills working...?" She asked as she looked from her notes.
"You should tell her you threw them away." Another voice echoed in the halls of my mind. I rubbed at my forehead, and looked up, sitting on top of the desk, my subconscious, or rather an hallucination. "Tell her about the pills." He said, looking at me with content etched on his face. "Some nights, the other times I'm waking up in the middle of the night. I take another and go back to bed." I tell her, rubbing at my hands. She nods her head, placing her hands together on top her work desk, "Just be careful with how much you take. Sometimes with medication like that you develop a dependence on them. It's hard to kick, and it can addictive." She said as she scanned my blank expression. My subconscious stifles a chuckle, and walks around, "You know, paying this lady $300 bucks a session, you sure as fuck don't like telling her your problems." I don't have a problem, "But you do, and you're crashing right now. Look at you." I didn't ask for your advice, "Your hands are shaking, you've got bags under your eyes, and I can hear your heart pounding from here." Shut up, "Tell her Jimmy." SHUT UP... "No one can help if you don't talk...!"
I grab the sides of my head, it was throbbing, I let out a sharp sigh. "James? James are you okay?" Dr. Gaines asked in a concerned voice, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, um, I-I-I'm just a little...uh...I'm...I um...I've got a headache. I've been on the road for a few weeks, my eyes have been straining a lil' bit as of late. Travel fatigue." I give a gingerly smirk. "Can I, uh, can I use your rest room...?" I asked, pointing towards the door. "Two doors own on your right." She replied back. "Yeah, right, sorry about this." I apologized, she gave a small smile, "Just hurry back so we can finish up." She said in an optimistic tone of voice. I walk out of her office, feeling as if the world were spinning with each step I took. I rushed to the restroom, after making it, I locked the door. I sat on the toilet, taking deep, slow breaths.
There he was, standing in front of me. He squats down to make eye contact with me, "I get it, it's hard to kick. It feels like someone's gutted you. But this is a step in the right direction believe it or not. Hey, remember those nights when you were out on the street? Hungry, thirsty, it felt like a hand grabbed your insides and just started to TWIST, y'know? But you survived..." He said, looking at me in my state of depression. "S'just another test." He finished as he stood up, and walked to the mirror. He waves me to come look in the mirror with him. I stood up slowly and looked at myself, which only showed my reflection. My eyes were puffy, and my face a morose shade of pale. I stared for two minutes, then started the sink, I splashed my face, dried it, and then headed out.
I calmed myself, I didn't want Dr. Gaines to see me look so ragged. Two knocks...and I open the door. "Jimmy! So, are you ready to finish our talk?" She asked with a bright grin. I nod my head hesitantly, "Yeah...yeah, uh, l-let's..."
"Let's talk."
Alone in a park by myself, I sat at a picnic table. The camera sat in front of me as I looked around. A sunny day, birds chirping, the sound of trees blowing in the breeze. I tapped my fingers on the old wooden tabletop.
I simply reply.
"I never liked doing projects with others. They'd just take all the credit while I did the hard work. But teachers use to say it was good for problem solving, and...what else was it... learning...the benefits of cooperation. Yeah, that's right. But honestly, when you look at it in the real world, cooperation comes at a price. Cooperating with IZZY ANDERS...it doesn't benefit me, but it will for her. She'll reap the rewards. And me? Even if I win, McHannon's still champion."
The tapping begins to becoming banging.
"You have no clue how disheartening it is for me to say that. You have no clue how bad I miss my belt. A piece of me is being worn by someone else. Chandler Scott...Chandler Scott...he set this all in motion. It's all his fault. EVERYTHING!!!! ....Everything...is his fault. And no matter how much I wish I could right his wrongs, I'll forever be branded as the person who couldn't get the job done. But Zero did. And it lights something deep inside of me, this unkindled hatred. I hate Zero McHannon...and I hate Chandler Scott. And when I do get my hands on him at All Star Showdown, that's just one step closer to reaching my ends.
I'm going to reclaim my throne. I'm going to become the KING OF THE F'N WORLD once again. I'm going to show EVERYONE...WHO EVER DOUBTED ME...I...and only I...can rule. And Izzy, if you're smart, you won't mess this up for me. If you're any bit as smart as everyone thinks you are, you'll stay out of my way. I will hold you accountable if we lose Saturday night. If we don't walk out of the Florence Civic Center with this win, I want you to understand the ramifications. I want you to understand that their are consequences for inadequacy. "
My hands laid flat on top of the table. My eyes roam around in the open space.
"Saturday night, in Florence, South Carolina, I hope McHannon you realize the danger you're in. Because Cannon and Carmine...they should be the least of your worries. Because if I so choose to, I will maim you, I will dissect you, I will mutilate you BEYOND COMPREHENSION if I choose to. It didn't stop me at Above and Beyond...it won't stop me now. So if you're worried about Cannon and Carmine, I say you're worried more about the thunder rather than the approaching storm coming you're way in a few days. If I were you, stop worrying about the target on your back...and worry about the gun that's pointing right at your face..."
I let out a sigh, and then stand up. I want over towards the camera, and then...
END.
END.
