Post by Rayne Draven-Omega on Jun 12, 2016 11:36:24 GMT -6
It started with a spark. The spark led into a buzz. VoW had become the premier brand to watch females wrestle. After GPW folded, their talent dispersed to various other companjes around the globe. A decent sized chunk made their way to Visionaries of Wrestling, and I knew it was time to reclaim what was mine as the original female of VoW. Was it Constance Chapin who went toe-to-toe with Jarek Whitaker on the first ever Breakthrough? No, never. Was it Joanna Thade that defeated Starrkadian, even though he was on an impressive hotstreak and was scouted to possibly be the inaugural World Visionary Champion? Was it Gina Neon that looked at 2014 and thought that was going to be the rise of her career? The answer all remains the same. A hushed "no" muttered under my breath in disgust that I had to sitout of active competition for damn near close to a year. Almost a year of watching these women come into the house I helped build, and nothing, not a single thank you.
Everybody forgets it was Reya Serra who went toe to toe on classics with Edward Myers and Ziu Zhong, damn near ending his Zero Gravity reign before Patrick Jones had the chance. Everybody forgets that Cera was running roughshod with Brett Carson helping The Orphanage and the consequential rise of Casanova English. Everyone forgets that Vanessa was the one fish that got away from English's line when he could not draw the Queen out. We were the first four females in this company and ONLY I STILL STAND.
I wanted to come back with feelings of jubilation and triumph as my femur bone healed. Agonizing months were spent at home as all I could do was rest, rehab, weep, and repeat. It pained, sickened me to my stomach that I had to sit out missing opportunities, wondering if I could have had a taste of the Xcel Championship. Wondering if I could have had a taste of Twin City gold with my sister Reya, who I have not seen for months. I wonder if I could have finally bested Cera in one-on-one competition, I was going to be the one to finally block her Scorpion kick, I almost had once before...
"But she is dead, and she is never coming back!"
The outburst escapes my lips and I notice people circling around me in the Mall of America. Confused stares, blank stares, stares of bewilderment.
"Is this chick alright?" One of the passersby mutters before shaking his head.
Embarrased, I pull the hood of my Iowa Cubs baseball tee up and jam my hands in the front pockets of my denim minishorts. Looking for an exit while wincing, I spin around a mall directory sign and slip into a crowd. Disappearing from the scene, only to head for the parking lot.
What has become of me? Ever since I came back to VoW television, ever since Gwendolyn butted her nose into my business. I felt different, strange, just not quite right. I felt like the last of the torch bearers, drowning in a stormy harbor of new blood, desperately keeping my head above water, hoping to keep my lantern ablaze. I would have hated to seen what could have happened as kerosene and water don't mix.
I fumble in my purse through chapsticks and pads looking for my car keys. Why can't I focus? Rayne get a grip of yourself. A sigh escapes me as I try to find my center. With a moment ofmclarity, my keys emerged and I was able to enter my vehicle. Minutes passed, close to an hour. The phone started ringing and I glanced to the screen which displayed my husband's name. I just sat there and let it ring until it went to voicemail.
Tonight I face Gwendolyn Massey, a girl I want to put in her place more than anything else in this world. However, I am starting to fear I bit off more than I can chew, but if the Duchess is going to go down, she is going down swinging for the fences.
Everybody forgets it was Reya Serra who went toe to toe on classics with Edward Myers and Ziu Zhong, damn near ending his Zero Gravity reign before Patrick Jones had the chance. Everybody forgets that Cera was running roughshod with Brett Carson helping The Orphanage and the consequential rise of Casanova English. Everyone forgets that Vanessa was the one fish that got away from English's line when he could not draw the Queen out. We were the first four females in this company and ONLY I STILL STAND.
I wanted to come back with feelings of jubilation and triumph as my femur bone healed. Agonizing months were spent at home as all I could do was rest, rehab, weep, and repeat. It pained, sickened me to my stomach that I had to sit out missing opportunities, wondering if I could have had a taste of the Xcel Championship. Wondering if I could have had a taste of Twin City gold with my sister Reya, who I have not seen for months. I wonder if I could have finally bested Cera in one-on-one competition, I was going to be the one to finally block her Scorpion kick, I almost had once before...
"But she is dead, and she is never coming back!"
The outburst escapes my lips and I notice people circling around me in the Mall of America. Confused stares, blank stares, stares of bewilderment.
"Is this chick alright?" One of the passersby mutters before shaking his head.
Embarrased, I pull the hood of my Iowa Cubs baseball tee up and jam my hands in the front pockets of my denim minishorts. Looking for an exit while wincing, I spin around a mall directory sign and slip into a crowd. Disappearing from the scene, only to head for the parking lot.
What has become of me? Ever since I came back to VoW television, ever since Gwendolyn butted her nose into my business. I felt different, strange, just not quite right. I felt like the last of the torch bearers, drowning in a stormy harbor of new blood, desperately keeping my head above water, hoping to keep my lantern ablaze. I would have hated to seen what could have happened as kerosene and water don't mix.
I fumble in my purse through chapsticks and pads looking for my car keys. Why can't I focus? Rayne get a grip of yourself. A sigh escapes me as I try to find my center. With a moment ofmclarity, my keys emerged and I was able to enter my vehicle. Minutes passed, close to an hour. The phone started ringing and I glanced to the screen which displayed my husband's name. I just sat there and let it ring until it went to voicemail.
Tonight I face Gwendolyn Massey, a girl I want to put in her place more than anything else in this world. However, I am starting to fear I bit off more than I can chew, but if the Duchess is going to go down, she is going down swinging for the fences.
