She Who Breaks

Thurs, Oct 16 2014
Location: The AT&T Stadium in Dallas, Texas

It had been a simple victory that night. Blyss had done so much, changed so much, just to please that skepticism in her head. That voice, she wanted so badly to hear its approval. To feel its lightness again. But deep down at the same time, she wanted no more than to shun it. Or at least to keep it quiet and have it nothing more than a murmur like before, just for a while. With a flick of the hand or a satisfying crunch with her boot, she yearned for its silence. But the voice had continued with its mockery. It had accused her of things that she had mostly never done but they were so despicable and had rang through her mind countlessly and tirelessly that she eventually believed them.


The outburst had startled the people around her whom she ignored completely as she took off down the hallways. Her rage-fueled run through the building didn't stop at anything till she needed air. She almost fell as she bent over, hands clutching her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and blinked as she tried to stop seeing stars. Nausea started to come in waves. She reached out for support to lean on, her body swaying.

Beating Parker Wayde was not the plan. He was, at one point. But then it all changed the minute she found out Jay Halc was going to be there at FTA. How could she resist the chance to see him again? To meet and talk with him? And then fucking bash his smug condescending face in?! It didn’t matter how much her body was in pain right now. She could barely walk anymore and her head ached so badly that she collided into a wall at the turn of the hallway. She could hear voices around the corner but her mind couldn’t really register what was being said. The sounds rose and fell all around her like a party she couldn’t see yet was forced to feel and be a part of.

This was the wonderland of her mind — beautiful but grotesque all at once. The voices began to morph. Dance! they said. Do the twist! Stamp your feet! Her body shook and bent at awkward angles in different ways yet the constant da-da-da movement feels liberating. Her hair flowed all around like rivers of gold and gems in the lively rhythm of the air. It’s a mighty celebration of the past and future. She must be finally climbing out of the rut now, whatever state she was in not too long ago. She had won. You’re free! Free!

She let herself slip onto the floor as she clutched her bruised forehead that had just been patched up by the doctor after the match. It started to hurt like fucking hell again but she can’t seem to register that. Instead she felt like laughing. She couldn’t believe how far she had come since May 2014. Though her career seemed to be filled of more down’s than up’s, she was beginning to enjoy the motions of this roller coaster ride. Like people often said, the higher you go, the further you fall. And when she did, she made sure to go down swinging and it tasted so good. It was a pleasant surprise. Shocking, but she loved every second of it. It was the nature of the game. And who was she to change it? She fucking beat the shit out of Jay, his stupid brother Kris and buddy Parker single-handedly. She was the fucking QUEEN! Didn’t she just defeat IWF’s resident monster Harker not too long ago? And the look on Molly’s face when she skipped out of the ring right in the middle of their match against Erin and West? It was almost priceless.


She licked her lips, just thinking about it again.

Betrayed?! BETRAYED?! Did you forget who she was just a year ago?!

She shook her head but low laughter rose up at first in bubbles of giggles before she burst into hysterics, rolling from side to side with arms hugging her waist.

You’re unbeatable, Melyssa. How many times do I have to tell you? You need nothing else. Nothing, and no one.

So she laughed and laughed along with the voices, raising both hands as if reaching for the skies. She almost forgot what that feels like but now, luckily (or not), this new memory was breathing life again to the old. The air was cooler too. It’s fresh, much fresher. She’s no longer suffocating like before. She couldn’t help herself anymore. Her heart THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! against her ribcage and suddenly she could feel… everything.

So who’s gonna save us now
When the ashes hit the ground
I gave it all
But all you gave was sweet misery

Thurs, Jan 1 2015
Location: Home in Miami, FL

Far away and deep in her subconscious, Blyss dreams of the one place that has given her much peace lately. On the gleaming rocks constantly lapped by the rushing waves, a little girl sits unmoving except her hair and white dress flapping in the fierce wind. They seem to bloom in the golden sun, so bright in its near white. Though her face is turned just a little to the side, her identity remains fully hidden as if protected by the ethereal glow about her. As always, the sea’s wrath doesn’t touch her save for the tiny splashes that dot her face like shy rain. A low humming can be heard coming from her in an infectious melody that’s somewhat familiar. The wind carries it all around, delivering and receiving other sounds that it greets, and soon the world is abuzz with a cacophony of rhyme clashing with rhythm.

Beautiful chaos.

Slowly but surely, Blyss approaches the little girl from behind. She’s barefoot and when she steps onto the first paving slab, its roughness surprises her a little. She winces a little as she continues walking and covering her eyes from the brightness ahead.


Blyss draws a sharp breath, surprised. But she keeps on walking towards the little girl who’s now completely turned away from her. Blyss reaches out to touch her shoulder but quickly retracts her hand as the light starts to burn her. The sun innocently shines on regardless like an idle observer. She tries again and once more, she feels a sharp pain blaze across her skin. It draws colors that used to be absent from her vision, startling her. So she stops in her tracks and stares after the girl.


For a second, Blyss is mesmerized by how soft and melodic the voice is. Squinting in the light, she keeps her hands by her sides as she stands not too far from the girl.


Silence ensues. The ocean breeze fills the air, smelling even more sweetly than before. Blyss inhales deeply and her skin no longer burns as much. She smiles softly as she waits for a response. But there’s none. Taking it as an approval, Blyss lifts her right foot to step forward when the girl holds up her left hand to tell her to stop. Even though it’s just a small movement, Blyss nearly trips.



Confusion sets in and the ocean waves crash into the rocks more fiercely this time. Yet the girl remains stoic. A long moment passes as if the girl doesn’t see the need for an explanation. Blyss steals a glance over at the active waters, so clear and so cold. They hit the rocks again and she wipes off quickly at the light spray on her face with one hand. Blue on black, both gleaming in the sun. Her frustrations now start to simmer.


Blyss tucks a wild strand of her hair behind her ear, swallowing the lump in her throat anxiously. She looks up and around. Her wide green eyes search the vast ocean while her mind tries to retake the comfort in the vibrant underwater life and treasures that it might possess deep inside. Her toes curl and dig into the rocky surface, her skin toasting steadily in the sun’s light. The wind continues to blow as the waves crash once more. She takes an ambitious step forward.


This time, as the water collides into the rocks, it completely sweeps her away. A loud gasp escapes her lips in the shocking cold that drenches her as she wipes her face. She pushes her hair back and rebelliously trudges forward to confront the little girl. But when her vision finally clears, she realizes that the girl has vanished. For a second, she thinks that she might have won but the battle is far from over. The ocean rages on, wave after wave, knocking her down sideways.


She struggles not to breathe in the water but her lungs feel a little too desperate to care.



Turning away, Blyss takes in gasp by gasp before it turns into a full-fledged deep inhaling. Her right hand flies to her chest while her upper body weight rests on her other arm that’s propped up and ready to crawl far from the rocky edge to safety. She consumes the ocean’s rage and chokes. Her chest burns. It even hurts to open her eyes. She fails to understand why she can’t stay in this beautiful part of her mind where peace rests. It completely perplexes her. Why the punishment here?


The wind whips like a hurricane about her and before she knows it, she’s swept up into the air before tumbling down the rocks. She lands roughly face-down and out of breath. Scrapes and bruises color her pale skin.


A tsunami rises and crashes onto her, sweeping her across the beach like a discarded rag doll. She no longer cares to reach out and grab onto something. It seems pointless now. Rage renders freedom, which unfortunately includes loss of control. She knows it too well. It’s a vicious cycle and she’s getting more and more tired of it. Perhaps, she does deserve this. She starts to sob uncontrollably, out of fear and sadness so deep that her very soul feels engulfed by the intensity of the emotions.


She starts to cough up water violently, her body convulsing. It burns in her throat and she struggles to sit up without collapsing onto the hot sandy ground again and again.


Every word hits her hard with each rocking wave. Even if she can answer, she wouldn’t know what to say. Whatever that has her clutched in the claws of fear also has her bowing to its every whim. Unreasonable, selfish and highly damaging. Yet she let herself be fed with all of its lies. Since leaving the IWF, her life had spiraled to virtual nothingness. She lived in deep seclusion and fantasy. She was terrified, so terrified, of her own shadow. That part of her she can never fill with the light.


With a deafening clap of thunder, the sun instantly vanished and in its place isn’t the moon but thick fibrous clouds forming rapidly across the skies above. She grows nervous with every second as her eyes search for safety and reassurance. But it may be too late. Darkness always finds its way back in, doesn’t it? Quickly, she tries to crawl away but then collapses back into the ground as she starts to sob to herself.



She ignores those defeated words and rises to her feet, looking to make her way far from the ever raging sea and its glistening sharp rocks. The howling wind in the brewing storm. The little girl in the pale dress. She suddenly gasps and winces, falling on her knees as if seeing these things physically hurts her.

And as quickly as the darkness had come, her surroundings are now swallowed in a strange glow. Like a graveyard, all things are quiet and still. She turns and meets a face so fiercely bright as if the sun itself has descended upon her. Her skin burns once more in the unforgiving light. Yet she continues to beg for her place in this twisted fantasy. If she were to die right here right now, she wants so much to see the peaceful sight of the ocean waves lapping up against the shore just one more time. If she can just…


Blyss is taken aback at the voice so gentle and caressing now. She closes her eyes and dips her head as those words repeat in her ears like a lullaby.



And just like that, time stops as it warps into nothingness in this strange dimension. Everything melts and fades away. The sun has joined the now dying ocean and Blyss streams in and out of consciousness. Colors of the midday sky flutter about her vision.


Reality then sinks.

And so does she, right into the merciless sands.

This is the end
My beloved friends
I’m lost in dreams
And all I know is where I’ve been

Sunday, Mar 1st 2015
Location: Undisclosed

The scene opens to a medium close-up shot of familiar face of the IWF, one that had disappeared since From The Ashes 2014. Blyss Lockhart stands before the camera, looking about the same as before. She gives a small smile and seems a lot more relaxed than fans would remember. Nonetheless, there’s still that slight frown on her face when she begins speaking.


She chuckles softly to herself, glancing away. Her shoulders look less tensed as she breathes in and out. It’s obvious that she really is having a harder time to start than she might have thought. But when in doubt, just go jump in anyways.


Her frown remains as her tone gets more serious in her monologue, her eyes now glinting. The absence from the business has not completely extinguished the fire of her passion in the sport.


She gives the camera one last look before walking off-frame and the scene cuts to black.

Can you see my scars
Can you feel my heart
This is all of me
For all of the world to see