Post by Morgan Payne on Jan 20, 2020 13:59:02 GMT -8
January 19th, 2020
Continued From Pt. V-2
Morgan stood on a familiar porch on a neighborhood street. The cold breeze nipped at her cheeks and she pulled her jacket closed more. She wondered how she suddenly went from The Castle to here but she knew this place better than any other. Dad’s house? Morgan turned around, sure enough, to see the familiar door. She thought about knocking before raising her hand up, about to do so when she saw her barren finger where she’d just removed the ring from Lluvia. An anguished sigh escaped her and she looked at her finger. Her other hand touched where the necklace from Lilith should have been. More tears started to come as she sobbed softly there on the porch of her father’s house. The house she’d grown up in all the way until she and Marissa decided to move out and share an apartment as roomies. Surrogate sisters. Mari. Morgan choked back more tears. She had to wonder if that’s why she left New Frontier for another company, now. Did she see her as a disappointment, too? Morgan trembled from a combination of the cold and emotional trauma she was suddenly being put through and she didn’t understand any of it….Continued From Pt. V-2
“What’d I tell ya?” Morgan heard her own voice and looked over to see Dark Morgan sitting back on the porch swing, completely relaxed with her hands tucked into her jacket pockets. “Hurts don’t it? The truth does dat sometimes….” She shrugged her hands up before scooting over to one side of the swing. “C’mere.” She patted the spot beside her.
Morgan hesitated and didn’t budge, staring warily at her darker self with that hood drawn up. She really looked like a devil in human form but Dark Morgan insisted and relaxed back again, pulling out the pack of Newports. “C’mooooon, I ain’t gonna bite ya! I mean, anno we like dat shit n’at but doin’ it to ourselves’d be fuckin weird. Sit dahn.” She nodded to the swing with her head. Morgan came over and sat down beside what people probably would have considered a long lost twin sister of hers. One who’d had a much rougher life than her. Dark Morgan popped a cigarette out of her pack and offered it over to her. Morgan was hesitant in taking one but did. Dark Morgan sparked her Steelers zippo and lit the end of it for her.
“Hey! Is dat my lighter?!” Morgan looked at her black clad twin like she had some damn nerve stealing that.
“Our lighter. I’m you, remember? How we gonna steal from ourselves? Use ya fuckin’ head.” Dark Morgan reached up and harshly tapped Morgan in the forehead. “Din’t we take them GED classes? Waste of time, really.”
Morgan opened her mouth to disagree but paused and sat back on the porch swing, dragging on her cigarette. “...Why’s it a waste?”
Dark Morgan shrugged and plucked her Newport out of her mouth with her index and middle fingers of her right hand. “Think abaht it. We cut back on gettin’ booked so we could sit in our room for tree months while, hashtag my girls and hashtag our man went aht and enjoyed each other’s company.” She nudged her with an elbow. “Y’see now why dey were always tellin’ us ‘oh baby I’m so prahd o’you! Keep studyin’!’” Dark Morgan went quiet, waiting for a response.
“...Because it meant I wasn’t in da middle of their shit….” Morgan said in a defeated tone, feeling Dark Morgan slap her on the back.
“Exactly!” Dark Morgan remarked.
“But wait...they’ve been wantin’ me t’come home. They said so!”
“You’re feeding Jasmine, remember? Once they figure aht how t’get rid of da Reptile?” Dark Morgan kicked her foot up lazily. “It’s da boot for us. Others might get lucky. They’re actually successful in life. I mean, Mary’s got five titles right now and we can’t even hold one for more than a month. Shit, we don’t even get booked! The fuck are we even wrestling for?”
“Because we love it.” Morgan looked across the porch to see Light Morgan perched up on the bannister, now with a heavy brown trench coat over her jeans and tank top to protect from the cold weather. Light Morgan shrugged her hands. “Gotta love what we do for a livin’ right?”
“Ah! But do we really love this job?” Dark Morgan pointed her cigarette at Light Morgan. She turned to Morgan and rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen t’her, Morg. She’s like your Kenzie side talkin’. Always soooo fuckin positive! See the light and hope in errythang!” Dark Morgan did a mocking little dance in her seat with her hands.
Morgan frowned. “Hey, cut it aht! Kenzie’s my friend! Our friend. We’re like dis.” She brought up a hand with two fingers pressed together.
“Yeah, and look where that’s fuckin gotten you!” Dark Morgan shot out of her seat and loomed over Morgan, thrusting her cigarette at her again like she had in The Castle. “Everyone’s about ready t’fuckin turn on ya for it! So whattaya gonna do abaht it? Don’t get us started on you voicin’ dat ya actually disagree wif Jasmine’s Trial by Combat stip against Eavan and how dat all played aht. How d’ya think she’d feel if we let her know? ‘Fuck you, Morgan deary!” Dark Morgan kicked the air, making like she was booting something out the door. “She’d Fresh Prince ya ass ahtta da Castle, real quick!”
Morgan sighed, looking up at that which represented everything negative about her. “What can I do?”
“Let go.”
“What?”
“Remember what Van Owen said? Dis is abaht lettin’ go.”
“What are y’doin’?”
“Shut up, you!” Dark Morgan threw a middle finger up behind her at Light Morgan who hopped down off of the bannister and came walking up beside her.
“A’ight. Morg? I guaran-damn-tee you dat da ‘lettin’ go’ she’s talkin’ abaht, ain’t what Van Owen meant.”
“Says you, maybe. How do you know?” Dark Morgan turned, nose to nose with Light Morgan. “Ya can tell dat motherfucker wishes he never woke up when he did dis.”
“We dunno dat. We ain’t him.”
“You can tell he’s self destructive.”
“Dat’s nice, but dis ain’t abaht him. It’s abaht us!” She turned to Morgan, thumbing to Dark Morgan. “Don’t listen t’dis bitch, Morg. Dis ain’t da way to go. We don’t want dis.”
“What if?” Morgan asked softly, looking to Light Morgan whose jaw dropped and she just looked at her. “What if we do? What if I do?”
“See?” Dark Morgan thumbed to Morgan and clicked her tongue. “Nobody knows what they want better than themselves, amirite?”
“She only wants dat because negative thoughts like you keep poisonin’ her fuckin’ well!”
“Bitch, I’m abaht t’kick your ass.” Dark Morgan turned and thrust a finger in Light Morgan’s face.
Light Morgan slapped the hand out of her face. “Don’t fuckin’ do dat shit! Yanno we hate it!”
“Stop! Both o’yinz! Fuck…” Morgan snapped, looking up after having dropped her head in her hands. She looked to Light Morgan and sighed. “If you’re really part o’me...yanno she’s right.” She pointed up to Dark Morgan who clapped her hands and stepped back from Morgan and Light Morgan so she could throw her hands up in victory and do a saucy little twirl.
“I been lettin’ people dahn my whole life…. My career ain’t goin anywhere….” Morgan said, looking down at the floor between her feet with her cigarette in hand. “Can’t maintain a love life. Can’t hold a strap in a promotion for any reasonable amount o’time. If I walk in dat door, I’mma prolly just have my old man tell me da truth like da girls and Tim did….”
“Dat wasn’t da truth!” Light Morgan sat down, reached over and V8 slapped her in the forehead. Morgan looked up with an expression like she had some nerve but Light Morgan wasn’t phased by the expression. “Dat was bullshit and you know it. I know it. She thinks it’s real cuz she’s everything that’s fuckin’ wrong wif us.” She said, pointing to Dark Morgan.
“Hey!”
“Shaddap!” Light Morgan cut Dark Morgan off and turned back to their central piece who still had tears in her eyes but was passed the sobbing point. Now she just looked numb. “Look, I wish I could counteract shit she does, but I can’t. I can’t show you da truth cuz ya gotta see it for yourself. All your head can do is show you lies. Van Owen didn’t mean for you - for us - to die. He meant for us to stare dis shit in da face and not let it win. We’re gonna come ahtta dis and we’re gonna see what’s really waitin’ for us.”
“I softened da blow by showin’ her already. She may as well go inside dat door and see what pops has gotta say. How he’s disappointed in us for being pro two fuckin’ years and not amountin’ t’anything. Then I’ll take her t’Chicago so Marissa can tell us what a shitty fuckin’ friend we are for holdin’ da Iron Maidens back from becomin’ da tag team champions. It ain’t bullshit, angel eyes, it’s called facin’ da truth and havin’ closure instead of motherfuckers dickin’ us arahnd! It’ll make lettin’ go easier!”
“You ain’t talkin’ abaht lettin’ go!” Light Morgan shot out of her seat and got in Dark Morgan’s face again, shoving her back. Dark Morgan staggered, laughing. “Ya talkin’ abaht dyin’! Not comin’ ahtta dis when it’s time to!” Light Morgan turned back to Morgan on the porch swing. “Morg, you’re abaht t’get a call on your phone. Ya need to answer it and wake us up.”
Morgan frowned in confusion. “It’s only been abaht an ahr….”
“It’s been seven ahrs! Connor and Van’ve been trynna wake us up for awhile now!”
“How da hell has it been dat long? It don’t feel like it…”
“It’s dat whole mind over matter, dimensional bullshit. Yanno ya see in movies they go in somewhere for a few minutes, come aht and everyone’s like ‘yinz been gone for days!’ Dat’s dis.”
“Now who’s lyin’ t’her? Van Owen said dis was all real. ‘Very fuckin real.’”
“Da FEARS are real! Not da experience! Look, Morg.” Light Morgan turned back to her. “Lemme ask you dis. If Lilly din’t give a shit, would she have said how she wished we were there t’watch Critical Role wif her?”
Morgan said nothing but looked up at Light Morgan with a sense of clarity showing in her eyes. Light Morgan noticed this and knew she was getting somewhere.
“See? And Mary. If she didn’t care, would she have given us advice abaht our mom? Abaht lettin’ her have a chance?”
Morgan slowly nodded, realizing all of this. Behind Light Morgan, Dark Morgan ran her fingers down her face with a groan. “Uggggggggggghhhhhhhh!!!! Yinz’re fuckin’ killin’ me, ‘ere! If Mary gave a fuck abaht us and Tessa, she’d prolly do da whole pullin us together and bein’ like ‘yinz sit dahn and hash dis shit aht!’ Lilly? She prolly still hates us for causin’ ‘er da heartache of leavin’ da Collective. Don’t think for a second dat we played a role in her comin’ back!” Dark Morgan thrust a finger at Morgan again.
“You hush!” Light Morgan said to Dark Morgan. “You listen!” She said to Morgan. “Dat whole feeding Jasmine thing, yanno dat was bullshit. Mary loves us. Lilly loves us. Lluvia? Tim? Jassy? They love us. The Lil Royals? Yanno they adore us. Climbin’ all over us n’at in da livin’ room. Bet they can’t wait t’do dat again. You walk through dat door like she wants you too? They don’t get t’do dat again. Our girls and our man have t’have Connor tell them we didn’t survive dis test. How d’you think they’re gonna feel then?”
“Hah! So now, you’re guiltin’ her? Morgan, go on inside da hahs. Pops is in there, waitin’ for us. Y’can make everything right wif everyone if ya just open da door.”
She needed to make things right. She wanted to make everyone happy. If this was what it would take…. Morgan stood up off of the porch swing and stepped towards the front door of her dad’s house. A musical sample came from her jacket pocket and she stopped where she was, looking down.
“Don’t open dat door, Morg. Answer the phone.”
Morgan pulled the phone out and looked at the screen. How odd, given where she was. She was getting a call from Connor MacNamara, directly. Here? How? The tone kept playing, the phone buzzing in her hand. She looked at the door, torn between her decisions.
“Yeah, answer da phone so y’can continue a life of questionin’ and wonderin’ what people really think of ya. Or ya can open da door and pass da lesson: let go of everything.”
Morgan closed her eyes; a tear falling down her cheek again as she squeezed the phone in her hand. It was still waiting for her to answer but that door looked so inviting. From her peripheral to the right, Light Morgan stepped up and looked down at the phone.
“Dat’s them trynna wake us up in your final moments. We either answer and become da better person we always wanted t’be or we walk though dat door inta da next plane. Need me t’tell ya what dat means? Nah because we know dat term from Lilly. We know what next plane means. Death, Morg. You open dat door, we fuckin’ die. Da people we love - dat love us back - lose us. Our friends lose us. Connor loses a student and has to sit wif dat. We told him we were ready for dis. Nora said he saw potential in us; dat’s why he took us under his wing to teach us da shit dat they don’t teach just anybody in dat family.”
“There’s just more hurt on the other end of dat line, Morg. Yanno it. Anno it. Dis bitch is denyin’ it.”
Light Morgan stepped in front of Morgan, blocking the door. “We made a promise t’several people. We promised da girls and Timmy boy we’d come home. We promised Connor we wouldn’t let him dahn. We promised Aella we’d survive. Remember? Now think back on when was da last time we ever broke a promise. Think!”
Morgan opened her eyes; another tear falling down her face.
“Dat’s right. Never. So don’t do it now. We got so much shit we can do in da future. You just gotta hit dat button and answer."
“She’s lyin’, Morg! Ya gonna fall for dat bullshit, ya idiot?”
Morgan turned to Dark Morgan a those words and stared hard at her. “Nah. I ain’t.” Morgan tapped the Receive button on her phone and closed her eyes, bringing it up to her ear.
“...Hello…?”
January 19th, 2020
7:45PM
7:45PM
Morgan’s eyes shot open and she lurched upward with a heavy gasp, back arched, drenched in her own sweat so bad her t-shirt and shorts were soaked. She fell back against the wet sheets and immediately felt her stomach churning. The look on her face told Connor what was coming.
“Bucket. Bucket!” He called to Van Owen who rushed over with a metal pale, sticking it by the bedside as Connor pulled Morgan over onto her side as she emptied the contents of her stomach right into it.
“Good ol’ Na Fianna diet.” Van Owen’s eyes watered and he looked away due to the smell, cupping his nose.
Morgan wretched two more times before coughing up the rest; Connor wiped her mouth with a towel and sat her up, bringing the jug of water she’d had up to her lips. Morgan took it instantly and gulped it down.
“Slow slow slow. Ya wanna fuckin’ empty that out, too?”
Morgan slowed before lowering the water jug and handed it off to Connor. The next wave that hit her was pure emotion as she buried her head against her forearms on her knees. She heaved and let out an anguished sob before softer ones followed.
“Fuck me, she did it.” Van Owen chimed.
“Aye, she did. Out.” Connor remarked, motioning to the door, dismissing Van Owen. Before he followed, Morgan felt his hand on her arm. “Well done, lass.” He said, patting her arm once before leaving the room and giving her privacy.
Morgan looked up and fell back against the sheets, drenched in her sweat as well as the emotion continued to rock her. Even when house staff came to change out her bedsheets, and she sat in the shower to wash off, she did little more than cry while hugging her knees to herself. It was in her guest room where she continued to remain, curled up on her mattress as everything she’d just experienced lingered in her mind. She looked up to see her phone on the nightstand and silently checked it. She didn’t bother opening her Twitter app. Not for now. All she did at that moment was hold the power button and swipe right on the switch to turn the device off. Right now, she just wanted to be alone….
