live everyday waiting for death
to show up at my front door
his empty eyes, blade held high
he finally settled the scoreIt’s been a rough year to be Anastasia Hayden.
The flat had a smell, a smell when you enter an long abandoned house for the first time. It’s not a strong stench, but it’s out of the ordinary. The smell reminded Ana just how long it had been since she last stepped foot inside of England. She felt like a stranger even in her own home. Something like that wasn’t right, but it didn’t seem to bother her. Most days, nothing bothered her. Becoming numb to the world with the help of life itself, the ultimate downer drug. There was no need to take anything to alter her frame of mind when she all it took was one bad memory to send her spiraling down.
In 2016, Ana didn’t know what she wanted to do anymore. There once was a period in her life where she had goals, motivation, and drive, but that had all vanished. Much like everything in her life. Whether by the cruel hand of fate dealt to her in life or simply by her own doing. She wasn’t just a stranger to her home, but to everyone she knew. The idea of “fighting for her friends” had only opened her eyes. She didn’t have any friends. They all left England behind. Or simply, they just left her behind. Putting up a false wall and brushing off that truth was like peeling napalm off the skin. It burned and it left behind a very ugly scar.
A scar that she’d never be able to cover up. The psychological wrestling that Anastasia pitted herself against was the real opponent. It was brutal, it was ugly, and it wasn’t a fair fight. Every week was starting to feel like an uphill battle, but only because Ana dug herself deep down into the trenches of her mind. The mustard gas of truth was too toxic for her and she’d rather suffer in the wet, cold, lonely trenches than accept her hopeless fate. When it came to the topic of still wanting to wrestle, it wasn’t just a night before, night of, or week of issue. It was a hourly issue.
Once the seed of giving up is planted, it keeps growing larger and larger without any needed nutrients. That seed grows and adapts, becoming stronger with each passing moment. Already tethering on the tightrope of life, it wouldn’t take much, but a simple gust of wind to knock Ana off. Perhaps that’s what she wanted. That’s the power that the seed of giving up had created inside of her. No friends, nowhere that feels like home, and most of all, no drive. What was the reason to do anything? Not just wrestling, but simple mundane tasks. The roots digging deeper into her mind.
Nothing in her flat made her feel any better. All it served was a painful reminder of her previous failures. Her debut attire from Monarchy hanging in the closet across from where she sat, the picture of her and Terry in Japan on her dresser, and the most recent plane ticket back to Louisiana next to it. The world of professional wrestling crumbled around her. The only thing she “loved” had become the thing she hated the most. But there was one question that ate away at her. Why still do it? Was there something left to prove? And if there was, would she even care to complete it?
A question she didn’t know the answer to. It wasn’t that wrestling felt like a chore, but it felt like an addiction. A lot of wrestlers say wrestling is their addiction, but she never meant it like that. It was the type of addiction that ate through her veins, poured into her bloodstream, and took slow steps toward crippling her. Almost as if it was a sick joke that the very same thing helping her pay rent and survive was the exact same thing killing her. But that’s what life was. A sick, cruel, unforgiving joke and Anastasia Hayden was the punchline.
She thought maybe lying to herself and trying to fight for something would be that motivation she needed. It wasn’t. A fabricated mess just to convince her to lace up her boots for one more night. PAW had offered her a chance to escape, but she was too deep into the quicksand of pity to be saved. The time off never served as a rehab or counseling. It allowed for each moment of doubt and failure to be replayed when she went to sleep. The projections of her losses were played over and over again on the inside of her eyelids. There was no escape.
Sticking with her gut and never coming back to wrestling seemed like the right choice in retrospect. But she was too stubborn for that. For someone who didn’t accept a lot of her failures and would focus on the negatives in life, she was determined to stay wrestling. Even if it was the thing that drove her to the brink of sanity. Yet, part of her hoped for it to all go wrong. All it took was simply one move done wrong and she’d be gone. Wrestling wouldn’t be a worry. Life wouldn’t be a worry. Of course, the aftermath of it all lingered in her mind.
Not how people would feel, but the selfish attitude if she managed to survive it. Those thoughts haunted her, but she didn’t want to expel them either. Death was the only love Ana truly flirted with time and time again. The only touch she wanted to embrace. Wrestling was the only thing keeping her from diving into that parasitic relationship. Obligations and contracts to be fulfilled. They kept her alive. And that’s when it hit her. The motivation that she needed was right in front of her.
She stood up and walked over to the dresser, picking up the plane ticket. They’d never know the power that the ticket in Ana’s hand gave her. All she’d have to do was fulfill her dates and after that, she’d be able to do what she pleased. Louisiana was the only domain that still called for her name and once she was done with them, she’d be done with everything. The concept alone filled her with glee. A rare occurrence.
The way she saw it, there was two avenues to go down. She keeps earning dates, obligations, and contracts that force her to prolong everything. Maybe she stumbles into success or maybe she doesn’t. She got to wrestle and actually have a meaning behind it. It’d literally be a fight for her life. If she didn’t find fortune, it was pretty simple what was to come.
“Death.”The word felt like the first bite into a ripe apple.
“Death.”A welcomed word. A word that filled so many others with dread, but it gave Anastasia a sign of life. She could feel the poisoned blood coursing through her shriveled veins. A lot of fight was needed not to just scream it at the top of her lungs. The motivation she needed was there. All she had to do was chase it. The promise of it all made her giddy as she needed to rein herself back in. Failure wasn’t just an option, but it was a choice she could pursue. That’s where the stubbornness comes into play. Giving up would make it too easy.
There was no thrill that came with just giving up. Her losses in PAW were nothing, but added motivation to her. Two dates that she had completed, two dates where she gave it her all even if she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t sure how many chances she’d get left, but she knew they meant to her. The fight was there. There was no place to hide. The claw had reached deep down and pulled Anastasia out from the pit. She’d have her moment in the sun.
If the idealistic cookie cutter brat of a wrestler could get their opportunity to shine, then why couldn’t Anastasia? The name Annabel Lee was tied to an image of a clown in her mind. She looked one way, put on an act, but when it was time to perform, she was something different. Ana walked back to the table, sitting down, and opening up her laptop. She had already crossed paths with Annabel before and she wasted an opportunity. Or it was her partner that did it. The fine details didn’t really matter as Anastasia had already made up her mind regarding it.
But there was still something very valuable for her to learn from the match. It was just a battle of bravery that she’d have to fight against herself. Pulling up matches of Annabel was easy, so Ana knew that wasn’t the exact route she needed to take in order to prepare. There was an added layer that she was going to have to overcome in order to put up a decent fight. The one thing Anastasia could never do she’d have to do. Watching her own tape.
The disfigured and broken Crank Championship was what Ana wanted. Not the actual title itself, but what came with it. And if having it brought her one step closer to her goal, she’d have to overcome the feud she had with her own matches. Annabel Lee, the Crank Champion. Ana would be able to hold gold, beat the woman who beat her, and after that, the world was her oyster. Anything she’d want would follow. All it took was the right move at the right time. Arrogance settled in and that’s what gave Anastasia the final push.
A liberating sense of joy rushed over her. The tape didn’t phase her. The championship, she wanted. The possibility to beat Annabel Lee, she needed it. The flame attached to Ana’s wick was dangerously close to being blown out by the wind and the darkness that would accompany it, that’s what she was living for. Her purpose had been found again. All it took was one more match. An opportunity to show the world how badly she wants to be united with the man she loves most.
The reaper lurked nearby.
The world was spinning and the urge to vomit was strong. Prior to her flight, Ana spent a good portion of the day drinking. A few drinks after she boarded to help calm her nerves. And a celebratory drink after landing in honor of her new found passion. Each thump inside her skull served as a sound barrier, preventing any rational thoughts from speaking to her in a wounded state. She knew what she wanted and she wasn’t going to stop herself. Looking over the edge of her bed down to the valley of empty beer cans below, a smile formed as she looked over each can. They served as honorable soldiers, fighting a good fight.
As she looked back up, she noticed the crack in her curtains that allowed the violent rays of light enter her room. The vampiric attitude of hers rushed to grab her sunglasses off the nightstand and put them on. A sigh of relief, despite the pounding headache and the self-hatred, the morning was starting out right. She waded her way through the sea of aluminum and looked at herself in the mirror. Not impressed. Pulling up her sunglasses to her head, Ana bent over to splash her face with cold water, trying to wash away whatever traces of alcohol was left behind.
Doing so wasn’t an easy task, but Ana was a strong believer in persistence. The layout of the room saw her bags on the floor by the door, unpacked, just how she liked it with an unopened six pack beside them. Eventually, the six pack would serve as a sacrifice, but for the moment, they were spared. Anastasia dug through her bags before pulling out her workout gear along with a mini legal pad riddled with bullets. Each point would be hammered into her mind, highlighting what she needed to do to reach her goal.
At the top of the paper, written in bold, black ink.
“
NOT GIVING UP”
A healthy reminder for the morning. An extra buzz to get her rolling. Giving up was the coward’s choice, the easy choice. Not much was certain in Ana’s future, but going out like a coward wasn’t in her cards. She wouldn’t allow it. In front of her was a reminder of the biggest fight she was going to step into. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for it. The uncertainty was all she needed to blindly dive in. All of her pent up anger, depression, and whatever else she harbored in her mind would be released in a few days. That was the only reminder she needed.
She would beat Annabel Lee or die trying. Both options were very literal for her. Training would be the start of a very promising day. And Ana looked to continue that mantra by drawing back the curtains, allowing the Sun to come in and enjoy the silent madness that she had adopted. She wasn’t sure if she was drunk and delusional or sober and delusional, she couldn’t tell which was worse. But she was sure that she could beat Annabel Lee. Even if no one else believed it, Ana didn’t give a fuck. The “Me Against The World” attitude wasn’t a cliched Tupac influenced choice for Ana. It was her lifestyle.
The same lifestyle that gave her success. The same lifestyle that makes her long for death. It gives and it takes, but when it does give, there’s nothing sweeter. Still holding onto her gear, Ana gripped it tightly. There was a fight in her not-so-distant future and without training, she was ready for it. Death and fighting. She wanted to embrace it all at once, but teasing Death and chasing the fight was what Ana needed.
Ana needed to beat Annabel Lee. Ana needed to win the Crank Championship.
Anastasia needed to die.
“What does failure mean to Anastasia Hayden? You’d think after back-to-back dealings with it, I’d have a steady grip on it. But not quite. When you grow complacent, you become another drone in a meaningless machine. I’m not going to just become a shell of Anastasia Hayden because I suffer a loss here and there. It’d be so easy for me to pack it in, to write off my successes, and take my business elsewhere. But I’m not a coward like everyone else I’ve dealt with. People come and they go, but a fighter stays regardless. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been forced out of places and given the boot.”
“But when I hit that ground, when I felt like my jaw busted on the floor I landed on...I stood back up. I took that dislocated jaw, that broken nose, that torn shoulder...and I put it all back together. I’ve broken my body so many times, it’s become a trivial number to me. And I keep fighting. Not for the ‘fans’...for myself. At the end of the day, I’m the only one who can prop myself up like the true gladiator that I am. The dents in my armor just prove that my fight is far from over.”
“Losing to Kelsey, losing to Annabel, and losing to Caroline just served as a reminder. I can’t be defeated. The record books and win-loss logs can tell a different story, but you need to trust one source only. Just look at where I am after suffering two losses. I’m in the possession of a championship opportunity. All I have to do is go back to the hurdle that I tripped over and leap over it to become the Crank Champion. That hurdle is named Annabel Lee. The lone innocence in a promotion filled with vile and corruption. I’d lump Kelsey into that pile, but ignorance isn’t a very attractive narrative that I want to paint.”
“Annabel Lee has the pleasure of saying she’s beaten Anastasia Hayden. And of course, I’ve already made my defense to all the dense viewers at home. Caroline was the reason I lost, but I still have to carry that burden of a loss. This action has resulted in a centrifugal force of vengeance to get stored up inside of me. A vengeance that I get to unleash upon Annabel Lee. It’s getting to the point where I’m counting down the days toward Addiction just so I can shut up all the critics who want to call me a one hit wonder.”
“It’s easy to discredit Annabel and I’m no stranger to doing that. She’s the opposite of everything I take pride in being. When I want to fight, she wants to make friends. When I want to end someone’s career, she wants to pat them on the back and tell them everything is going to be alright. It’s almost all done with this condescending aura around her. Calling her fake would just be a cop out. It’s the feigned sincerity that irritates me more than anything. She says so much without saying anything. I’m almost envious of it, Annabel.”
“There’s a cute best friend act that you put up with Kelsey, but there’s more to it than that. She’s as dense as they come and don’t get me wrong, you act on a similar level. But there’s something you’re hiding from everyone. I’m not quite sure what it is...but it’s there. Whether it’s on Addiction or Wicked, I see it. You keep playing this innocence act and while everyone gets fooled into thinking you’re this sweetheart...your true colors shine.”
“I know everyone wants to point the finger at me and claim I’m the bad guy. They’re not wrong. I fight to injure and I fight for the hell of it. There’s nothing pretty or honorable in what I do. But I’ve never cared for that. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I don’t hide my colors. Each match is just a little fantasy of yours...you compliment and act like such a hero, but underneath it all, you’re just as scummy as everyone else here in PAW. You make it sound like defeat is going to be a nice, soft blanket, but everyone ignores that arrogance in there. The arrogance that you think you’re going to win.”
“There’s almost enough mutual respect from me to admire that. It’s deceitful. I like that. But Annabel, I hate to have to be the one who exposes it, but if I don’t...who will? You thrive on an anti-insult lifestyle. Bringing up someone’s faults and flaws, but never going in on the offensive. Instead, you just bring up those issues to the frontlines. And nobody bats an eye toward it! For one day, I wish I could be you, Annabel. To see what it’s like to not live a life under scrutiny, for everyone to see past the villain you really are.”
“And if I don’t take that Crank Championship off of your shoulders, that villainy is going to continue to develop. The fooled masses will keep buying into it and they’ll never be the wiser. The implications of this match go beyond winning a championship, it gives me a chance to show the world who you are. To be the hero you pretend to be. That’s what I look forward to the most. Not just taking that Crank Championship away from you, but taking in the look on your face when I beat you. When that facade you live behind gets torn down...I’ll be the real hero of PAW. The people don’t need to embrace me. They just need to embrace the truth.”
“When Addiction rolls around, I’m going to do just that. All of my losses shall be avenged when I get the biggest win of my career thus far. The first taste of gold will come from you...and even after the beating I’m going to give you. Even after the lie you’ve been living, Annabel. I thank you for this. It’s truly an opportunity of a lifetime given my recent misfortunes. And now I get to make all of my troubles vanish in one little match.”
“I hope you’re ready for the fight I’m going to bring because I don’t even know if I’ll be ready for it. This match...I’ve never had the honor of beating someone one on one for a title before. It’s a new experience for me. And I can guarantee that it’s going to be an experience you’ll never forget. A fight. A brawl. A war. Whatever you want to call it, that’s almost too kind of a title. I’m giving this my all. Losing isn’t an option for me anymore, Annabel. The Future Champion moniker isn’t going to be just that anymore. It’s going to be a truth. I left Monarchy as a loser. I left Bad Moon Rising as a loser. I left the first edition of Addiction as a loser.”
“So you see, Annabel, winning is all I’ve got left.”
