Post by Melissa Reed on Mar 15, 2014 17:33:47 GMT -5
March 14- Bed And Breakfast Inn, LA, 5:00 PM
Laughter filled the hall from inside of Madeline-June's room. Melissa folded one leg over the other as she balanced a sketch book along her thigh. MJ had healed up significantly since Sean had beaten her up inside the ring. Finn Bell had been with his sister for a good half of the week, he looked exhausted.
MJ Bell: “C'mon now!”
Melissa Reed: “I kid you not, son of a bitch totally tired to.”
Finn Bell: “Melissa, I've seen the way you look sometimes. I can't blame the dude for hitting on you.”
Melissa Reed: “He was creepy, babe, super creepy!”
The three of them broke into laughter again. Melissa observed her friend as MJ rubbed her index and thumb against a petal of a stargazer lily. MJ looked deep in thought as she continued to touch the beautiful petal. Every time she smooth her finger over it the petal would become more translucence. The flowers seemed to hold some sort of importance to MJ.
Melissa Reed: “Those are beautiful flowers. Who gave them to you?”
Finn Bell: “Good luck finding out. She won't even tell me.”
Finn cleared his throat as he lifted himself out of a chair. MJ quickly let go of the flower and tucked her hands into the blanket. Her eyes remained just as blank as before.
“ I'm going to get some coffee.”
Melissa gasped as she watched Finn exit from the room. She'd asked for a cup of coffee an hour ago but Finn had teased her about it being bad for her. Melissa didn't care that coffee was bad for the stomach. It was an amazing drink that she enjoyed a little too much.
Melissa Reed: “Wait, Finn, grab me some, please!”
Her lips pouted out as she sunk into the chair. She refocused on MJ, who had slipped down into the bed so only the top portion of her hair peeked out. Melissa folded her legs up into the chair as she continued to shade the sketch of the flowers. There were many bouquets around the room, but there were only two MJ kept close to her bedside.
“Are they from Kenshin?”
MJ shook her head but didn't say anything else. She groaned, shifted under the blanket and sighed. Melissa, for once, didn't push anymore. MJ had been through a lot and it didn't seem fair to poke fun at her. Melissa flipped the page then began a new sketch of a different bouquet. The room grew quiet. There was a small shift in the bed again but MJ seemed to be asleep now. Melissa tapped her finger against the page, flicked the pencil so there was some noise.
Finn walked back in with two coffees which received a large grin from Melissa. She took the coffee and sipped it. Finn dropped back into his chair before he exhaled loudly. He took a drink from his coffee then nodded his head towards his sister.
Finn Bell: “Is she finally asleep?”
Melissa Reed: “Yeah. She passed out when you left.”
Finn Bell: “Good. Madeline hasn't slept well since they took her off the morphine and moved her into a hotel...”
Melissa Reed: “I'm sure she was in pain when she left. Were you the one who helped her?”
Finn Bell: “No. Kenshin had helped her out.”
Melissa Reed: “That's adorable. I wish they'd just... Well, you know.”
She received an confused look from Finn. Not because he didn't understand but more that he didn't know how to respond to it. Melissa flipped the page again. She glanced at Finn then began her sketch of him. Finn just drank his coffee occasionally he glanced at his sister. The two of them sat in silence while they kept to their own actions. It had been a long length of time since she had seen the two Bells. It was difficult to not like them. They were typical 'good' people. The ones that said all the right things, did the right things and stayed loyal to their friends. Melissa had never met wrestlers like them. They weren't boring with all their 'hero' stuff. It was refreshing to see and be around. They had been one of the turning points in her step away from being a heel.
Melissa Reed: “So, why did you two stay here?”
Finn Bell: “She didn't want to go home to our mom.”
Melissa Reed: “I bet. I can't blame her-- Quit moving.”
She frowned when Finn had shifted a lot in his seat. He gave her a half smirk then moved back into his original spot. His eyes narrowed slightly with a grim expression.
“Finn, I know you and your family were worried but MJ will get him back. Sean won't be a problem forever.”
Melissa stuck her pencil in the spiral binding on the end of her sketch book, she ripped the page out before she packed it away in her bag. She stood up to walk out but stop at Finn's side.
“She'll give 'em hell.”
Finn Bell: “I know she will.”
Melissa Bell: “So don't worry. Relax.”
She handed over the sketch to him with a smile. He looked it over.
“I really need to get back on the road. I'll see you around, sweetie.”
Finn Bell: “Thanks for visiting Mel. It was good to see you.”
Melissa Reed: “You too. Keep in touch.”
She continued her way out the door. It had been a long time since Melissa had seen a friend injured. She'd been shocked to hear about what had happened. It was good to see MJ was well though, however there were other things that needed her attention as well. Her match was a few days away. A large grin stretched over her pretty features as she made her way down the long hall.
March 15 – Half-way Mark, 1:35 PM
It was a rest spot on the side of the road. There were a lot of people around the open area. Families at picnic tables ate their lunches and many people enjoyed breaks from their cars. An elderly couple went to peer over the fenced off area that displayed a river down below. Melissa was seen at a table alone with a sandwich from Subway and her sketch pad out on her lap. Instead of on the bench she was on top of the table with her legs crossed. As she munched on her sandwich her hand swiped away eraser shavings from the page. A small sigh escaped her lips before she set the rest of the sandwich back onto the wrapper.
It was still cool outside and Melissa had wrapped herself up in a gray hoodie. It was an older one with holes in the pocket but it was soft and warm. Her cheeks were red from the wind that continued to blow through the trees. The pages of her sketch book flew up and disrupted the stroke of her pencil. This little spot out in the middle of nowhere was beautiful. In the spring it must been breathtaking. The flowers would be all bloomed, the grass a lush green and all the trees filled with bright greenery. It was too bad that Melissa couldn't return to this very spot to see in person.
On the sketch pad was a drawing of a large oak tree. With all the branches spread out in nearly every direction. It had an haunting air around it that made it all the more lovely to look at. Melissa set her sketch book aside when she finally finished the shading. She inhale through her nose then leaned back on her palms. Even with the chilly air it felt nice outside. The sunlight that rain from between the trees felt great against her face.
A football abruptly crashed into the table and flung her belongings to the ground. She snapped around to yell but at the sight of two young boys, she stopped herself. The older one of the two boys waved his arm in the air and yelled.
Older Boy: “I'm sorry! I threw it over his head! Are you alright?”
Melissa waved her hand to dismiss the apology. The accident would not ruin the rest of her day so hopped down from the table. She knelt down to pick up her stuff. When the two boys finally made it over the younger one went for the ball while the older one helped Melissa.
Melissa Reed: “Quite the arm you got there.”
Older Boy: “Yeah... I'm sorry about your stuff.”
Melissa Reed: “Don't worry about it. I wasn't hungry anymore, anyways.”
She glanced up to see the shirt he had one. A wrestling shirt. The logo was from a company she had been traded into a few times. Melissa finally finished gathering her stuff up and she moved back to sit on the bench.
“That is a cool shirt.”
Older Boy: “Oh, uh, thanks.”
Melissa Reed: “Do you watch a lot of wrestling?”
The two boys nodded. The older one leaned against his younger brother. Melissa tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as she balanced the sketch book on her leg.
“Well, that is pretty cool. If you two like wrestling, I have a group you should watch...”
She scribbled down the name then handed it over. The older boys face lit up.
Older Boy: “We watch OCW all the time! Even though my mom says it's too violent.”
Melissa Reed: “As long as you don't perform any of the moves, I don't see the problem. Do you have a favorite?”
Older Boy: “Yeah, The Great One! ”
Melissa Reed: “Ahh, into the heels, huh?”
Older Boy: “Yeah... Mario is insanely cool! The Family beats out anyone. They have been getting some new faces though, they're cool.”
The younger one stared at the ground when he finally spoke.
Younger Boy: “I like Danny and Kenshin...”
Melissa Reed: “Oh? They're cool, huh?”
The younger boy smiled and nodded his head while his brother shrugged. Melissa chuckled. A woman yelled over to them.
Mother: “Rick, Chris, it is time to go! Come on you two!”
Older Boy: “Oh, crap. We've gotta go! Nice talking to you.”
Melissa Reed: “Mhm, bye.”
The younger one waved before the two of them ran off. Melissa shook her head as she giggled to herself. It was interesting to hear about the fan base that OCW had. Even though she had to agree with their mother. The older one could be in his teens but the younger one didn't need to see all that. She wasn't one to judge. She watched Wrestling as young age and turned out fine. Melissa stretched her arms into the air before she stood up. There were a lot of miles out on the road still.
Her eyes glanced over at the destroyed sandwich. She had lied to spare the kid's feelings. There was a loud growl from her stomach when she thought about how delicious it had been. She could always pick up a burger at the next stop but that was about an hour away. Melissa would have to sip on water and chew gum to hold her over.
After she finished packing the rest of her stuff she headed back to her bright green ford.
A Disheveled Hospital
The lights turn on. It reveals a long, abandon hallway with the paint peeling from the walls and graffiti covering them. Suddenly the scene changes to a room with a single bed. The mattress is torn, dusty and matted. The camera zooms up on a red HA written above the bed. Suddenly the camera whirls around to focus on another HA on a wall. It keeps changing scenes to reveal random HA's within the hospital. The camera returns to the hallway to show a silhouette of a woman painting on the wall. She begins to speak.
The Harlequin: “There is something dangerous in 'memory'. The instant changes it can put on a situation with just a blink of an eye. You can build and build up to one moment, but when the time comes, it can crash down in front of you because of one little memory. The moment of glory will lay there at your feet, dying, yet the only thing you can do is wonder what happened. How did it all go so wrong? It was the treacherous touch of memory. A single memory can topple an empire. Trap you in your own mind to drive you into madness, but even that won't be a real escape, no, it'll still be there. The dark, cold, place will lurk behind you like a shadow. It laughs at you when the BAD DAYS drop into your lap. It is so powerful that it can break you...”
She drops the paint brush back down into the bucket of red paint.
“Yet for some... It doesn't break you. It builds you, fuels you to push onwards. We are simple creations of our past. Do you still live in your past, Mia? Does it pull your forward to fight the battles? A person doesn't fight that hard unless they were taught to. The drive that moves a person forward is not learned through a privileged life. The comfortable one that makes you lazy. It is learn through struggle, hardship and harsh lessons. No one wants to live in their memories when they are twisted. You want to create better ones to remember. So tell me, why do you fight so hard?”
Harlequin is painting again but it is difficult to see what it is.
“You know, memories are tricky. There are times when it leads you somewhere splendid. A paradise of sorts. The lush taste of something wonderful. Just a simple peck of gratification in this big world. How do you describe happiness as a whole? Without going into its definition, I suppose it varies, doesn't it? The neon lights of childhood for someone shine brighter than anything else. They sparkle giving off an everlasting glow that fuels everything you do. Perhaps, a sweet hug from another, a passionate kiss in the small prickles of grass, the little giddy spin that your chest does when young love enters into your life. For most, happiness is driven from a moment, yes one moment, a title hoisted over your head and the loud boom of a crowd cheering. Now, isn't that where you want to be? In that single moment of...”
The camera zooms up to show the lower half of Harlequin's face. Her lips twist into an devious smirk.
“Glory? For the remainder of that time you are blessed with the knowledge that you've over come odds. Isn't that right Angelle? Do those glory days of being a 'top dog' drag you through the painful memories? Ship you across the delusions that they will return just as strong as they once did. For some they do return. They return with vengeance, a strength that carries through the test of time, if you will. It appears as if you haven't even been gone. No one questions you because the pure essences of your glory is still there. That isn't the case for everyone though. Some lose it. They lose the grip they had on the perfection everyone praised them for. I hear you are on a losing streak of late Angelle, but who am I to say it is true. I can only judge from what I have heard. You are- were glorious, weren't you? You were amazing, weren't you? Yet, now, it seems to have left you with only the memories. Now, you must be thinking, how cruel of you. How utterly vicious, unsightly, savage that is for me to say those things. It would all of those things, if only I were trying to affect you in someway, but I am not. An example is in order...”
Harlequin is out of view of the camera once again but her voice carries from somewhere nearby.
“For a scrap of food, how many of your memories would you trade, Alice? All of them? The things that build the very fiber of your being! Do you listen to them at all or have you slipped away into a world of color? Is there anything I could say to trip you on your path into battle? Is that what I am doing? No, I am simply stating facts. It is a fact that we are creations of our past. You are no different but unlike the others you are not controlled or driven by them. You've given up to be apart of the only escape we have from them. Do you see now?! Do you see? Is it clear now? Memories are only demented, monstrous things were we allow them in! Some of us cannot resist those memories. If I have wounded you by what I have said, angered you, insulted you, or even simply confused you, even if all I was doing was speaking the truth... I have succeeded in a situation that I didn't mean to stumble in to.”
The scene shifts to see Harlequin picking up the bucket of paint and walking towards the exit.
“You can tell me now, kiddies, I won't judge. Do memories control you while you are in the ring?”
Laughter echoes as the scene fades to black. The word HA begins to repeat in random places until the screen is filled before it turns to black.
Laughter filled the hall from inside of Madeline-June's room. Melissa folded one leg over the other as she balanced a sketch book along her thigh. MJ had healed up significantly since Sean had beaten her up inside the ring. Finn Bell had been with his sister for a good half of the week, he looked exhausted.
MJ Bell: “C'mon now!”
Melissa Reed: “I kid you not, son of a bitch totally tired to.”
Finn Bell: “Melissa, I've seen the way you look sometimes. I can't blame the dude for hitting on you.”
Melissa Reed: “He was creepy, babe, super creepy!”
The three of them broke into laughter again. Melissa observed her friend as MJ rubbed her index and thumb against a petal of a stargazer lily. MJ looked deep in thought as she continued to touch the beautiful petal. Every time she smooth her finger over it the petal would become more translucence. The flowers seemed to hold some sort of importance to MJ.
Melissa Reed: “Those are beautiful flowers. Who gave them to you?”
Finn Bell: “Good luck finding out. She won't even tell me.”
Finn cleared his throat as he lifted himself out of a chair. MJ quickly let go of the flower and tucked her hands into the blanket. Her eyes remained just as blank as before.
“ I'm going to get some coffee.”
Melissa gasped as she watched Finn exit from the room. She'd asked for a cup of coffee an hour ago but Finn had teased her about it being bad for her. Melissa didn't care that coffee was bad for the stomach. It was an amazing drink that she enjoyed a little too much.
Melissa Reed: “Wait, Finn, grab me some, please!”
Her lips pouted out as she sunk into the chair. She refocused on MJ, who had slipped down into the bed so only the top portion of her hair peeked out. Melissa folded her legs up into the chair as she continued to shade the sketch of the flowers. There were many bouquets around the room, but there were only two MJ kept close to her bedside.
“Are they from Kenshin?”
MJ shook her head but didn't say anything else. She groaned, shifted under the blanket and sighed. Melissa, for once, didn't push anymore. MJ had been through a lot and it didn't seem fair to poke fun at her. Melissa flipped the page then began a new sketch of a different bouquet. The room grew quiet. There was a small shift in the bed again but MJ seemed to be asleep now. Melissa tapped her finger against the page, flicked the pencil so there was some noise.
Finn walked back in with two coffees which received a large grin from Melissa. She took the coffee and sipped it. Finn dropped back into his chair before he exhaled loudly. He took a drink from his coffee then nodded his head towards his sister.
Finn Bell: “Is she finally asleep?”
Melissa Reed: “Yeah. She passed out when you left.”
Finn Bell: “Good. Madeline hasn't slept well since they took her off the morphine and moved her into a hotel...”
Melissa Reed: “I'm sure she was in pain when she left. Were you the one who helped her?”
Finn Bell: “No. Kenshin had helped her out.”
Melissa Reed: “That's adorable. I wish they'd just... Well, you know.”
She received an confused look from Finn. Not because he didn't understand but more that he didn't know how to respond to it. Melissa flipped the page again. She glanced at Finn then began her sketch of him. Finn just drank his coffee occasionally he glanced at his sister. The two of them sat in silence while they kept to their own actions. It had been a long length of time since she had seen the two Bells. It was difficult to not like them. They were typical 'good' people. The ones that said all the right things, did the right things and stayed loyal to their friends. Melissa had never met wrestlers like them. They weren't boring with all their 'hero' stuff. It was refreshing to see and be around. They had been one of the turning points in her step away from being a heel.
Melissa Reed: “So, why did you two stay here?”
Finn Bell: “She didn't want to go home to our mom.”
Melissa Reed: “I bet. I can't blame her-- Quit moving.”
She frowned when Finn had shifted a lot in his seat. He gave her a half smirk then moved back into his original spot. His eyes narrowed slightly with a grim expression.
“Finn, I know you and your family were worried but MJ will get him back. Sean won't be a problem forever.”
Melissa stuck her pencil in the spiral binding on the end of her sketch book, she ripped the page out before she packed it away in her bag. She stood up to walk out but stop at Finn's side.
“She'll give 'em hell.”
Finn Bell: “I know she will.”
Melissa Bell: “So don't worry. Relax.”
She handed over the sketch to him with a smile. He looked it over.
“I really need to get back on the road. I'll see you around, sweetie.”
Finn Bell: “Thanks for visiting Mel. It was good to see you.”
Melissa Reed: “You too. Keep in touch.”
She continued her way out the door. It had been a long time since Melissa had seen a friend injured. She'd been shocked to hear about what had happened. It was good to see MJ was well though, however there were other things that needed her attention as well. Her match was a few days away. A large grin stretched over her pretty features as she made her way down the long hall.
March 15 – Half-way Mark, 1:35 PM
It was a rest spot on the side of the road. There were a lot of people around the open area. Families at picnic tables ate their lunches and many people enjoyed breaks from their cars. An elderly couple went to peer over the fenced off area that displayed a river down below. Melissa was seen at a table alone with a sandwich from Subway and her sketch pad out on her lap. Instead of on the bench she was on top of the table with her legs crossed. As she munched on her sandwich her hand swiped away eraser shavings from the page. A small sigh escaped her lips before she set the rest of the sandwich back onto the wrapper.
It was still cool outside and Melissa had wrapped herself up in a gray hoodie. It was an older one with holes in the pocket but it was soft and warm. Her cheeks were red from the wind that continued to blow through the trees. The pages of her sketch book flew up and disrupted the stroke of her pencil. This little spot out in the middle of nowhere was beautiful. In the spring it must been breathtaking. The flowers would be all bloomed, the grass a lush green and all the trees filled with bright greenery. It was too bad that Melissa couldn't return to this very spot to see in person.
On the sketch pad was a drawing of a large oak tree. With all the branches spread out in nearly every direction. It had an haunting air around it that made it all the more lovely to look at. Melissa set her sketch book aside when she finally finished the shading. She inhale through her nose then leaned back on her palms. Even with the chilly air it felt nice outside. The sunlight that rain from between the trees felt great against her face.
A football abruptly crashed into the table and flung her belongings to the ground. She snapped around to yell but at the sight of two young boys, she stopped herself. The older one of the two boys waved his arm in the air and yelled.
Older Boy: “I'm sorry! I threw it over his head! Are you alright?”
Melissa waved her hand to dismiss the apology. The accident would not ruin the rest of her day so hopped down from the table. She knelt down to pick up her stuff. When the two boys finally made it over the younger one went for the ball while the older one helped Melissa.
Melissa Reed: “Quite the arm you got there.”
Older Boy: “Yeah... I'm sorry about your stuff.”
Melissa Reed: “Don't worry about it. I wasn't hungry anymore, anyways.”
She glanced up to see the shirt he had one. A wrestling shirt. The logo was from a company she had been traded into a few times. Melissa finally finished gathering her stuff up and she moved back to sit on the bench.
“That is a cool shirt.”
Older Boy: “Oh, uh, thanks.”
Melissa Reed: “Do you watch a lot of wrestling?”
The two boys nodded. The older one leaned against his younger brother. Melissa tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as she balanced the sketch book on her leg.
“Well, that is pretty cool. If you two like wrestling, I have a group you should watch...”
She scribbled down the name then handed it over. The older boys face lit up.
Older Boy: “We watch OCW all the time! Even though my mom says it's too violent.”
Melissa Reed: “As long as you don't perform any of the moves, I don't see the problem. Do you have a favorite?”
Older Boy: “Yeah, The Great One! ”
Melissa Reed: “Ahh, into the heels, huh?”
Older Boy: “Yeah... Mario is insanely cool! The Family beats out anyone. They have been getting some new faces though, they're cool.”
The younger one stared at the ground when he finally spoke.
Younger Boy: “I like Danny and Kenshin...”
Melissa Reed: “Oh? They're cool, huh?”
The younger boy smiled and nodded his head while his brother shrugged. Melissa chuckled. A woman yelled over to them.
Mother: “Rick, Chris, it is time to go! Come on you two!”
Older Boy: “Oh, crap. We've gotta go! Nice talking to you.”
Melissa Reed: “Mhm, bye.”
The younger one waved before the two of them ran off. Melissa shook her head as she giggled to herself. It was interesting to hear about the fan base that OCW had. Even though she had to agree with their mother. The older one could be in his teens but the younger one didn't need to see all that. She wasn't one to judge. She watched Wrestling as young age and turned out fine. Melissa stretched her arms into the air before she stood up. There were a lot of miles out on the road still.
Her eyes glanced over at the destroyed sandwich. She had lied to spare the kid's feelings. There was a loud growl from her stomach when she thought about how delicious it had been. She could always pick up a burger at the next stop but that was about an hour away. Melissa would have to sip on water and chew gum to hold her over.
After she finished packing the rest of her stuff she headed back to her bright green ford.
A Disheveled Hospital
The lights turn on. It reveals a long, abandon hallway with the paint peeling from the walls and graffiti covering them. Suddenly the scene changes to a room with a single bed. The mattress is torn, dusty and matted. The camera zooms up on a red HA written above the bed. Suddenly the camera whirls around to focus on another HA on a wall. It keeps changing scenes to reveal random HA's within the hospital. The camera returns to the hallway to show a silhouette of a woman painting on the wall. She begins to speak.
The Harlequin: “There is something dangerous in 'memory'. The instant changes it can put on a situation with just a blink of an eye. You can build and build up to one moment, but when the time comes, it can crash down in front of you because of one little memory. The moment of glory will lay there at your feet, dying, yet the only thing you can do is wonder what happened. How did it all go so wrong? It was the treacherous touch of memory. A single memory can topple an empire. Trap you in your own mind to drive you into madness, but even that won't be a real escape, no, it'll still be there. The dark, cold, place will lurk behind you like a shadow. It laughs at you when the BAD DAYS drop into your lap. It is so powerful that it can break you...”
She drops the paint brush back down into the bucket of red paint.
“Yet for some... It doesn't break you. It builds you, fuels you to push onwards. We are simple creations of our past. Do you still live in your past, Mia? Does it pull your forward to fight the battles? A person doesn't fight that hard unless they were taught to. The drive that moves a person forward is not learned through a privileged life. The comfortable one that makes you lazy. It is learn through struggle, hardship and harsh lessons. No one wants to live in their memories when they are twisted. You want to create better ones to remember. So tell me, why do you fight so hard?”
Harlequin is painting again but it is difficult to see what it is.
“You know, memories are tricky. There are times when it leads you somewhere splendid. A paradise of sorts. The lush taste of something wonderful. Just a simple peck of gratification in this big world. How do you describe happiness as a whole? Without going into its definition, I suppose it varies, doesn't it? The neon lights of childhood for someone shine brighter than anything else. They sparkle giving off an everlasting glow that fuels everything you do. Perhaps, a sweet hug from another, a passionate kiss in the small prickles of grass, the little giddy spin that your chest does when young love enters into your life. For most, happiness is driven from a moment, yes one moment, a title hoisted over your head and the loud boom of a crowd cheering. Now, isn't that where you want to be? In that single moment of...”
The camera zooms up to show the lower half of Harlequin's face. Her lips twist into an devious smirk.
“Glory? For the remainder of that time you are blessed with the knowledge that you've over come odds. Isn't that right Angelle? Do those glory days of being a 'top dog' drag you through the painful memories? Ship you across the delusions that they will return just as strong as they once did. For some they do return. They return with vengeance, a strength that carries through the test of time, if you will. It appears as if you haven't even been gone. No one questions you because the pure essences of your glory is still there. That isn't the case for everyone though. Some lose it. They lose the grip they had on the perfection everyone praised them for. I hear you are on a losing streak of late Angelle, but who am I to say it is true. I can only judge from what I have heard. You are- were glorious, weren't you? You were amazing, weren't you? Yet, now, it seems to have left you with only the memories. Now, you must be thinking, how cruel of you. How utterly vicious, unsightly, savage that is for me to say those things. It would all of those things, if only I were trying to affect you in someway, but I am not. An example is in order...”
Harlequin is out of view of the camera once again but her voice carries from somewhere nearby.
“For a scrap of food, how many of your memories would you trade, Alice? All of them? The things that build the very fiber of your being! Do you listen to them at all or have you slipped away into a world of color? Is there anything I could say to trip you on your path into battle? Is that what I am doing? No, I am simply stating facts. It is a fact that we are creations of our past. You are no different but unlike the others you are not controlled or driven by them. You've given up to be apart of the only escape we have from them. Do you see now?! Do you see? Is it clear now? Memories are only demented, monstrous things were we allow them in! Some of us cannot resist those memories. If I have wounded you by what I have said, angered you, insulted you, or even simply confused you, even if all I was doing was speaking the truth... I have succeeded in a situation that I didn't mean to stumble in to.”
The scene shifts to see Harlequin picking up the bucket of paint and walking towards the exit.
“You can tell me now, kiddies, I won't judge. Do memories control you while you are in the ring?”
Laughter echoes as the scene fades to black. The word HA begins to repeat in random places until the screen is filled before it turns to black.
