Broken Silence

Broken Silence
A few days after Battle Grounds XXXIX

The plane touched down in Las Vegas, and I was exhausted and an emotional wreck. I couldn’t get the look of Vanessa’s face out of my head. I kept replaying the scene the entire flight. The same question kept creeping back each time.

‘How could she blame me for what happened?’

It was driving me insane. I wanted to call her, if not to get answers but to see how she was doing. I had to restrain my self from calling her on the way back to Vegas. Stepping outside the McCarran International Airport and was greeted by the desert heat.

I still couldn’t believe I was back in Las Vegas.

I haven’t been here since Vanessa and I bought the house out in the Hamptons. I could have gone there, but I wasn’t ready for the reminders of the tragedy that changed my life. I was sure I would have never been able to pull myself together walking into are beach front home and seeing all the baby furniture that was still waiting for me to put together.

Looking around the airport seeing families together happy.

I found myself envious of there lives.

I reached into my gym bag and around the bloody gear that I never seemed to get rid off, and pulled out my iphone. Hoping she reached out. But there was nothing on the screen. I dropped my head in defeat, taking a deep breath to hold back my tears. I decided to call Vanessa’s cell.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
‘Call Wifey…’

I said into the phone, and in moments her ringback tone was screaming into my ear. The sound of Usher’s ‘you got it bad’ serenaded my mind, until I was greeted by the sound of Vanessa. It was her answering machine…

..:: Loca Rocsi ::..
“You reached the number you dialed … Leave it!”

BEEP

The thought of hanging up crossed my mind; instead I took a deep breath and had a conversation with her phone

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
‘Hey Vanessa, Just wanted to see how you were doing, I’m still not sure what happened back there. Then again, I can’t even try to comprehend what you must be feeling right now. I really did do everything I possibly could to keep you and them safe. I hope you understand. I just landed in Las Vegas; I’m heading to the Hart Mansion for a few days. I’ll have my phone attached to my hip, give me a call or drop a text whenever you’re feeling up to it. And Vanessa, I miss you and love you with all my heart’

I pressed end on the phone and slide it into my pocket. I walked over to a Taxi that was sitting idle by the doors of the Airport. He spotted me coming and pop open the trunk. I tossed my gym bag into the open space, and jumped into the back of the cab.

..:: Taxi Driver ::..
“Where to my friend?”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
‘Home’

The drive was a short one, pulling up the drive-way brought back a lot of memories. The last time I was here my father was still alive. It once housed a happy family, now its one big storage locker. Walking into the multi-million dollar estate, all I could hear was silence.

Nothing has disturbed the silence in months. The fish in the aquarium swim in silence. Walking into the living room, I turned on the TV and even that appeared to air in silence. Nothing has been the same since I left. I made my way to the bedroom, I took a long look at her side of the bed and the scene matched the emptiness in my heart.

This could be a sight I have to get used to

Walking into the kitchen; I reached for a beer from the fridge. I cracked the brew and silently drank it. What else am I supposed to do? I feel like I lost everything in my life. I don’t even feel like being here. I feel like flying back to Paris and getting the woman I love back. Yet, I understand that she needs space. She doesn’t need to see me right now.

It could push her farther back.

I don’t want her gone forever.

I walk out of my kitchen, beer in hand, and make my way upstairs into my office. When I walk in there I see the various championships I’ve won over the years, and the championships my father Frank Hart won over his hall of fame career and not even that brings a smile to my face. I sit down at my desk and see that there is a new voice message on my phone. The flashing light goes off and I focus on it and it blinds me for a second.

Could it be her? I hit play on my answering machine with hope.

..:: Jada Hart ::..
Hey Robbie… it’s your mother!

Damn.

..:: Jada Hart ::..
Couldn’t get a hold of your through your cellphone which was odd. I’ve been calling since I seen what happened to Loca, how are you guys holding up? I’ll be in Vegas in a few days I thought I might check and see how the house was doing, have you been back there? Just call me back when you get a chance. I’m worried about you Robbie.

The message clicks and I erase it. Can my mother really help me through this? Hell, I don’t know what can help me through this. I’ve never felt this bad before in my life. If I knew what I did to piss Vanessa off I’d change it in a heartbeat. Thing is I don’t know what I did wrong. I never left her side while she was in the coma. I did everything I possibly could. There wasn’t a day I didn’t wish I died that night instead of my children. I place my feet on my desk and place my hands behind my head. I look to my left and see a picture of Vanessa. She stands in a blue sundress and a gorgeous smile on her face. What happened to those days? The days where we would smile and grin about everything. Now I sit here in silence patiently waiting on the day where I get to see her smile again. I continue to look at the picture with a frown displayed on my face. I look across from me and see the IWF High Impact championship a picture of Vanessa and I standing side by side the night I won it.

She was my champion.

I get up out of my chair and walk into our bedroom. The bed isn’t made because Vanessa usually does that. The sheets bunch together on one side and the pillows rest perfectly on the other side. The aroma in this room isn’t one of serenity but one of fear. It’s not one I’m particularly used to. I walk into the bathroom and see nothing touched on her side. Her makeup sits on the counter and I lift up the lid and look at the bronze tone. She would put this on every day but, to me, she was gorgeous without it. I place it back on its side and notice everything is in perfect order while everything on my side is in chaos. I pick up my toothpaste off the counter and place the cap back on it.

It’s a mess.

Walking back downstairs I hear nothing but silence. I can’t even hear the creaking of the stairwell and my footsteps. I go into the kitchen and grab another beer out of the fridge. The door closes in complete silence and I take a deep breath. I take a drink of it and make my way downstairs into the basement. I turn on the lights and place myself on the sofa in front of the flat screen television. I look at the beer in my hands and have a sudden epiphany. I put it down and move from my horizontal position and sit myself upright.

This is pathetic.

I needed to get my mind off things. I needed to do something; I’ve been sitting in self pity all week. I walk back to the first floor and take off my shirt and throw it in the laundry room. I head upstairs and proceed to make the bed. I make sure it’s nice and neat and I head into the bathroom and straighten everything up. Once everything is arranged nicely I remove the rest of my clothes and take a shower. I stand in the shower and as much as I want to hear anything that would let me know everything would turn out alright…

All I hear is complete silence.

♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥
♥ The Shoot ♥
♥ Robbie Hart Edition ♥
♥ Broken Silence ♥
♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥

After hearing the theory about me wanting my children dead, its clear Dan Alexander is a fucking idiot! What happened between my father and I carried no weight to how I felt about my unborn children. And if that’s the only dirt he’s gonna throw my way then he’s more fucked then I thought he was.

Do me a favor, Dano. Shut the fuck up. Thanks.

I think it’s really funny that you are so convinced that you’re going to win this week. Just give up and kill yourself. I guarantee you that it won’t happen. You can do any and everything to try and get yourself a victory. You won’t get it. Even if Chris Matthews pay’s off every official in the back you STILL won’t be able to get the victory. Mark my words, you pathetic ingrate. You won’t be able to squeeze out the win.

Your act is already tired. My advice to you is to quit while you are ahead, but let’s face it. You’re not ahead. You never have been. You talk a big game, but you’re a few bad loses before you up and leave the Insurgency AGAIN.

You can stay confident. That’s fine. Be that way. It’s a waste of time and energy, and everyone knows it but you. I am going to make it my personal mission for you to know that you are nothing but a failure, and you just couldn’t match up to me back when in my debut, and you can’t now. As long as your name is Dan Alexander you won’t be able to beat me. You’ll see what I mean when this week’s Battle Ground is through, and I am once again standing tall while you are suffering from the agony of defeat. I will continue to hold this title that I earned. I will continue my meteoric rise to the top. I will continue to make you look like a fucking fool, and have fun doing it.

You’ll just continue to fail against me

After this week, I am done with you. After this match, I leave you in my rear view mirror, and I move on to getting my redemption. You get to sink back down to the bottom of the barrel, like I said you were going to.

Dan…I have worked too hard to let you just run your mouth and expect to best me. I am the real deal. I will outwrestle you any day of the week and I won’t bat an eyelash about it. I will embarrass you wholly and not even bother to shrug a shoulder. If need be, I will destroy your career in this one match. I will set fire to every claim that you make about being better than me, stronger than me, more skilled than me and nauseam. I don’t take a damn thing about you lightly, and that’s why I can say with all confidence that you aren’t going to be walking out the main event this week the winner. It just isn’t so. Your chance to put your mark on anything has slipped through your fingers. Maybe you’ll realize that when you’re upside down, your head rushing towards the canvas. Or maybe you’ll realize it when you open your eyes and look up, only to see me leaving you in my wake.

Look on the bright side; you still have the UCWA to fall back to

Death Angel, I would love to verbally pick you apart, but I’m not even sure you even realize you’re competing in the main event of Battle Grounds. You’ve been doing nothing but hyping a championship match in a shit promotion called NHW all week.

Death Angel doesn’t have the motivation to outlast me in this match. In any match, really; but especially this one. He will either keep his tail tucked between his legs, or he will come forth with a lackluster effort. I’m not happy that this is the situation that I was given, but I suppose I have nothing to do but to just take it.

DA I don’t care about whatever match your preparing for outside these walls, just know that I won’t let up on you. It sucks you have to suffer for those who have pissed me off. It’s not fair to you, but those are the cards that you are dealt.

So spare me your gory clichés and one liners. Spare me the morbid thoughts that swirl through your head. I don’t care at all for the half hearted insults, or the uninspired effort you’re going to give me in the ring this week. You’ve had matches for title shots, and just given them away because you can’t bring yourself to care. You’ve had opportunities just laid out at your feet, and you couldn’t stir your mind enough to give a damn.

That alone just makes me absolutely sick.

Stop holding everyone else back. Stop wasting your time and everyone else’s. Either be a man and commit to this, or act like the child you’re being…but if that’s the road you’d rather take, then I will be more than happy to give you your final match in the Insurgency.

Have I been paying much attention to you before now? No. But that’s because I didn’t need to. You weren’t a threat to me at all. You still aren’t, even with my match against you coming up in less then 24 hours. You’re just a small hurdle that I have to take. So I am just going to step over you and go on my merry way towards making Cody Taylor wish he never got his job back

Your purpose is to be a punching bag during this match. You don’t need to muster any offense; you don’t need to spout out aforementioned clichés. Just keep your mouth shut so I can end you quickly.

When I do, you can certainly thank me…

But I won’t necessarily be listening.