Kailyn Divera vs Jarome Owens

[PWXonline]

Welcome to PWX Match
Kailyn Divera vs Jarome Owens

Deadline: 5-6-14 at Midnight CST


Story: Will be added later.

[Kaelyn Divera]

When my death began....
December 20th, 2013.
Ontario, Canada


Clear ice cloved the sidewalks like a blanket, shiny and slick. Large and soft snowflakes fell from the night sky... being blown away under the lit street lights, looking captivating. Hands nuzzled into my jacket pockets, scarf encircling my neck and draping over my right shoulder. Forest green military boots covered the bottoms of camouflage cargo pants, a soft navy blue newsgirl hat covered the tips of my ears with a light green flower assembled over the left. Lights twinkled from inside store windows, with empty boxes wrapped in beautiful and glistening wrapping paper.

I had been walking around aimlessly for hours, coming along the abandoned boardwalk, looking out to the lake that is now completely covered in a small layer of ice and snow. Keeping my distance from the frozen edge, feeling uneasy. My heart tightened in my chest, and I dismissed the frozen lake and kept walking, looking down at my feet where the snow sparkled with every step. A shiver slips down my spine and in to my knees giving me a chill.

I have lost all faith in survival, logical thought escaping me and becoming a delusional shell. I lost the love, that I have loved the most...... feeling like I cannot take another step towards the future... because all that is waiting is regret and misery... feeling like a ghost! Mirroring the thing I was feeling buried within me, loss of all hope in the world surrounding me. Death, dishonesty, disapproval, loss, loneliness, seclusion, hatred, failure... heart ache; all feelings that swirl inside me... one big chaotic mess with no order!

Felt like I had lost all sense of purpose, awakening with a sense of constant confusion that hits me like a tidal wave. Shuffling my feet along the wood below the snow... it's uneven surface turning alongside the shoreline of the lake... it's constant cry of death ringing in my ears... replaying the pain over and over again in my mind. My neck tightens against my coat, as my ears ring from the sound of screeching wheels, whipping around I look back to the road and a van has been slammed in to by a truck on its front left, wheel catching, the van spins into the air towards me... my heart races... I feel like this is the end and I duck down to my knees covering my head.

Hearing the van whistle through the air... I look up at it to come crashing right through me... like a hologram...and rolls a few times before colliding with the glistening blue water of the lake. Panting, panicking, my heart beats rapidly in my chest watching the "hologram" sink into the murky water... the waves raping the wheels... bubbles forming around its outer wall. Peeling my eyes from the van I look back to the road... there is nothing... no truck, no stopped traffic the sunlight back to darkness... and no marks in the snow... Looking back to the water... the van has vanished, and the lake is once again encased with ice and snow.

Falling down backwards to the ground... I hug my knee's lowering my face... trying to remember to breath.

_______________________________________________________________


April 22nd, 2014.
Tampa, Florida. USA



"Good morning Ms. Divera, and how would you be feeling today..."

Standing before the window pane, looking beyond the trees at the sun above the skyline, holding between my fingers is a small pink pendant that I begin to twirl.

"I would be much better, if I didn't have to be here..."

I turn my head to the side, catching her lean figure in my peripheral vision. She holds a brown clip board in hand with several untouched sheets of paper clipped to it, also pen tucked gently behind her ear. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and steps further in to the room after gently closing the door behind her.

"Ah, but you are here Ms. Divera. If you were not, how would you get your problems off of your chest?"

"Putting on my boxing gloves and turning the next idiot into dumbo the elephant..." The words trailed off my tongue smoothly, as if it was a livid dream of mine. She appeared to be displeased as she sat down in her cookie cutter chair printed with horribly disgusting paisley's, now jotting some words down on the clip board.

"I see your classes aren't helping..."

Crossing my arms, holding tightly on to the pink pendant.

"Which ones..." the words sarcastically escaping my lips, as I look back towards the window. "If being a paranoid obsessive compulsive person wasn't a good enough thickening agent... go ahead and add alcoholic and temperament issues to the list as well... Ingredients for disaster."

"PTSD as well..."

"Eh?"

This time, I shift my body, turning to look directly at her, a wave of momentary confusion washing over me. She looks up from her pad of paper, and meets my gaze from atop her glasses and begins to rephrase the acronym for me.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Ms. Divera!" She notes as a shiver crawls over my shoulders. Without helping it, I close my eyes tightening my fingers in my palms

"Ah... right...!"

"How are you coping Ms. Divera...?"

I lock my jaw... I never liked the terms of PTSD... being called formally... or even being psycho-evaluated... The smell of the room made my stomach nauseated... and I began to feel a glimmer of anger boil in the pit of my stomach. She looks me over, and senses tension in the air.

"Do we need to evaluate the dosage of your medication... or maybe evaluate the other alternative method we had discussed before...."

Uncoiling my arms from across my body, my anger boiled to the surface and my face turned several shades of red... grabbing the end table beside me, I lift it in my grip and throw it across the room at her as I yell.

"STOP TRYING TO ERASE MY HEAD....."

Hands at my side, body tense, eyes burning with fire, and a growl deep in my chest with every breath. The chair whizzes through the air at amazing speed and hits the head of the chair as the therapist raises her arms above her head and ducks. The chair pushes backwards with force and lands on the floor toppling the therapist over on her back. I begin to pant, unable to shake the feeling burning inside me.

"I... think... you should... you... you should go... Ms. Divera..."

"YOU THINK?!" Yelling at her again, she ducks her face behind the chair once again, fearful of my blind rage. Squinting at her with distaste, I reach in to my right hand pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper and walk stiffly over to her cowering.

"One thing before I go..." I admitted pulling her secondary pen from behind her right ear, causing her to jump.

"You're going to do me a favour... and if you wish I will no longer come here... all you have to do is sign this piece of paper and no more pain will come to you..."

Body relaxing, I hand the folded piece of paper to her and handing back her own pen. She hesitantly reaches for it, looking up. The burning in my eyes has subsided, tingling beneath my skin began to dissipate. I wait patiently for her to sign, watching her draw a deep breath to calm herself. I lean calmly against her desk and cross my legs, as I spark a cigarette.

"You cannot smoke in here...."

I looked up at her from under my cocked brow... face as cold as ice as I stared at her long and hard... inhaling deeply.

"I cannot do what now..?" I say, pushing myself off of the desk, I began to walk towards her slowly. She hastily clicked the pen, and I stop with a small smile curved in to my face.

"If I sign this...." She chokes up on her words, looking above from the floor to me..."You will be deemed as okay to return to work... as I recall, you are a professional wrestler are you not...? If I do this.... you could.... your too unstable..."

Tightening my jaw, I clasp my fingers around her lamp resting on her desk and begin clapping it in the palm of my hand, attempting to make my point clear. Holding up her hand she mouths the word "no no," and shakily signs her John Hancock on the blank line.

"Much appreciated." I place the lamp back on top the desk, and bow graciously towards her and snatch the paper from her grip before inhaling another drag and heading for the door, "Pleasure doing business with you Ma'am.”

_______________________________________________________



In the shadows of darkness, I relive the pain.
Unable to feel your touch, life leaving my veins.
In its tortured state, my soul stuck in mourn.
Living a half a life, a feeling so foreign.

Sucking in for air, I’m dying again.
Panic engulfs my lungs, the pain beginning to rain.
Frozen inside without your love.
My insanities fitting the glove.

Was once captivated by the infectious laughter,
Now slipping on in to the life after.
Holding your hand for all of these years,
Now slipping away through all of the tears.

Heart has surrendered to loneliness,
Lost forever, in the eternal blackness.
Scars unsealing, haunted by the life you left behind.
All hope in humanity, has been fully resigned.

_______________________________________________________


Flicking a pocket knife in my hand, running my thumb across its blade… feet crossed over another resting on a table opposite of my chair. Red wavy hair pulled in to a sideways pony tail… trailing down my collar bone over my black shirt. Green military boots with loose laces match well with the camouflage cargo pants that seems to be my new fashion statement.

“Jerome Owens, tell me… how will you inflict me pain?”

Tilting my head the other way, eyes focusing on the blade in my hands… uninterested in making eye contact with the camera.

“Will you dice me up?” I comment, shrugging my shoulders. “Maybe… throw my bones to the underdogs of PWX afterwards… the ones who claim to showboat amazing skills but can’t wait to face off against newbies like ourselves just so they have an ‘easy’ win… when all it is, is a tainted victory.”

A smile parts my lips… I begin to twirl the blade cautiously in between my fingers. Lifting my head, the blade whips suddenly out of my hands and in to the dark board, exactly on point. Faces turn to look in my direction as I pay no mind… instead, swigging back a mouthful of MGD, and inhaling toxins from my cigarette.

“I am guessing your skills are tactful enough to take me down Jerome,” I note, standing from place, and walking over to the dartboard and retrieve my pocket knife.

“I am sure you have a whole idea schemed in your head you jotted down from, ‘How to beat a woman, without being called a woman-beater.’ It makes no difference which play book you get your act from, or what sewer you climbed out of. But I am no… ah woman is it?” I ask, sarcastically as I walk back to my table, cigarette hanging gently off the corner of my mouth. “I am a nightmare… waiting silently to sneak in to your head in the cold night and rape your brain of the only privacy you truly thought you had.”

“Consider me a disease… I will infect you, my contagious poison will infect the whole entirety of the PWX Roster until I am satisfied with the results. Why may you ask?” Circling the top of the bottle with my middle finger. “I don’t need to have a reason… just an answer, because I can… and I will. There is only one way to deal with pain, which I have learned over the last few months… and that is to inflict it. You just so happen to be lucky enough to be the first at the receiving end of my first blow.”

Sitting backwards in to my chair again, lifting my feet back up and slamming my boots on to the table once again crossing them over.

“I am in no mood to play games with you Jerome. I am in this to draw blood, to stake my claim on stardom once again. My stardom comes at the price of your head, and will not be what is expected of me. However, I am not here to live up to expectations… my judgement died months ago at the bottom of a lake, my conscious parted me while I was trapped in a comatose alternate reality. When I woke, I was different, changed as you may. Now is my chance to see just how much I have changed, how much different I am… and I have to say, I am excited to toy with Jerome… because that is what I will do… jerk you around the ring and dry out your play book like beef jerky. By the end, all you will be is a dried out aged piece of meat sitting in a canister on the shelf… you will be old news.”

Inhaling another drag from the cigarette, this time I look at the camera focusing on me and smile once again, “Let me show you why I am A Cut Above The Rest, Jerome Owens!”

[jaromeowens]

I think this week I'm going to give KD the biggest black snake she's ever seen. She's obviously the hottest bitch and I don't care. In other words...black snake will retreat into the hole.