Post by Josh Kennedy on Oct 6, 2017 9:31:03 GMT -5
"This body makes me feel eternal, all this pain is an illusion" - Tool (Parabol)
Winfield, Kansas
August 2009
(Off-Camera)
"Fuckin'... Ow. Shit." Josh Kennedy mutters. His face is covered in blood, all stemming from his nose, which erupted after a particularly rough chair shot during a match at the independent show he'd performed in just an hour earlier. It was undoubtedly broken. The blood leaks all over the musty beige carpet of the motel room, soaking in and leaving its unmistakable coppery smell in the air. The bleeding had mostly slowed to a crawl now, a few errant drops escaping his busted nostrils.
"We need to get you to a hospital." A concerned female voice observes, Josh's sister, Lexi. A mere 16 years old, the look on her face conveyed a maturity forced upon her well ahead of its time. Her soft facial features had been sharpening of late, her face still strikingly pretty, but she now looked like a woman as opposed to a young girl. She's pregnant, but hardly showing, even though she's three months into the term, concerning, but considering how they'd been living, it was hardly surprising.
Josh scoffs.
"Yeah, like we can afford that." He says, rolling his eyes. Lexi takes a towel and wipes the blood from her brother's face. The towel comes away stained and wet, and his face is left tinged slightly red.
"Good point. How much did you make from the show?"
"Fifty dollars."
"When’s your next booking?"
"Tomorrow."
"Is it paid?"
"Nah."
Lexi gives him a stern look.
"I thought we'd talked about this, Josh. You need to eat too, you know..."
"We can't afford to. You're living off two meals a day while pregnant, you know how bad that is for the baby already? You're barely showin', how healthy do you think that is? I'm workin' everything I can, lookin' after myself as best I can, but I can afford to make sacrifices you can't. I can't make money without a name, I can't make a name without money and experience. Any gig I can get, paid or unpaid, I've gotta take it. I'm opening shitty indie shows because I don't know shit. I barely even know how to fuckin' wrestle yet. This is all there is right now, Lexi."
"How long’s it been since you last ate something?"
"Yesterday." Josh lies. It's actually been three days. Lexi sees right through him.
"Come on. Really. You've got to tell me this stuff."
"Nah, Lexi, you ain't gotta worry about me with all this other shit you got goin' on."
"That's bullshit and you know it. We're a team, for god's sake. A unit. It's you and me versus the world now, yeah?"
"Been that way for years, ain't it?"
Lexi nods.
"Ever since Dad..." She cuts herself off, unable to bring herself to finish the sentence aloud.
"Yep." Josh agrees, a hint of pain in his voice.
"Why do you think he...?" Once again, skirting around the difficult subject. Josh has no such reservations, instead spitting out the truth with venom, his bitterness at what happened clearly on display.
"What, killed himself?"
"Josh!"
"What? Why can't we say it? He did that to us. He did that to himself. I think we have the right to call it out for what it is."
"Jesus... Fine, whatever. But why do you think he did it?"
"He wanted an escape."
"From what?"
"From life. We were his anchor, we kept him here as long as we could. He was tired of fighting like we are now. Some people just ain't cut out to face their own demons."
"And what were his demons, do you think?"
"Christ, Lexi, if I knew that I'd be a fuckin' therapist and Dad would still be here. We don't get answers, we'll never get 'em. All we get to have are questions." Josh shrugs.
"I just... after all these years, it still doesn't make sense to me."
"That's how it goes."
"Do you think what he did was selfish?"
"What, abandoning his children and wife like that?"
"He didn't abandon us."
"What would you call it, then? He left us alone to fend for ourselves, 'cause Mom sure as fuck didn't hold up her end of that deal neither. He gave into his own need for release instead of standing and fighting until the end. He was a coward; he didn't see anything through. And I was left to pick up the slack."
"And you know you wouldn't have done the exact same thing in his shoes?" Lexi asks.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Bullshit, like you’ve never wanted out of all this.”
“Of this? Getting my shit busted in front of 15 people who didn’t even so much as give a single, fuckin’ sarcastic clap after I worked my ass off to try and entertain them? Of barely gettin’ paid enough to make it to the next show where I barely get paid? The shit we’ve had to sacrifice just to make it this far, and I can’t even keep a goddamn motel roof over our heads for more than a single night? Of course I have. But y’know what gets me out of it? Standin' through it all, continuing to work my ass off until it pays off.”
“And what if it doesn’t? What then?”
“I’ll find another way. Don’t you get it? Fighting for this is all I’ve got. Is it rough? Sure, but it gives me purpose. I’ve felt more alive these past few months than I have for the past eighteen years. I don’t care how bad it all gets, whatever I have to suffer through, I will. At least I could say I tried.” Josh rants. The strong smell of the blood clinging to Josh’s nose is quickly becoming intolerable, his head pounding. The anger burning in centre of his skull wasn’t helping much either, and the cheap, worn-out room was beginning to feel suffocating. He opens the door to the motel room and motions outside.
“I need some air and a smoke. Goddamn…”
“Want me to come with?” Lexi offers.
“Do whatever you want.” He shrugs, flippantly. Their little discourse had awakened Josh’s petty side somewhat.
Lexi sighs and gets to her feet from the edge of the bed she’d been sitting on.
Josh produces a lighter from his pocket and a packet of cigarettes, placing one in his mouth and lighting it immediately. All of these actions were done quickly and fluidly, a massive urgency behind his desire for a nicotine fix, as though it would help ease all his burdens. The fresh air and the gentle chill of the August breeze made Josh feel considerably better off. The sharp pain running along the bridge of his nose eased up just a little. Lexi meekly peers out of the doorway, not wanting to agitate her brother further.
“How’s the nose feeling?” She asks.
“Still hurts like a fuckin’ bitch. Gotta be broken or somethin’.”
“Look, I’m sorry, the last thing I want to do is piss you off.”
“Nah, it’s my bad, I was being an asshole. I’m still holding onto all this shit from Dad. And I doubt that's gonna change, what happened was fucked up. But this? This is my fault; I wasn’t cut out for this. I'm sorry, you deserve better.
“You did great, Josh. You took everything on your shoulders when Mom went ghost on us.”
“Y’know, I don’t think Mom ever really wanted us anyway. Maybe she liked the idea of it, but I think Dad was the one who wanted kids. 11 years old and I had to fend for both of us because she’d convinced herself that work was all that mattered.”
“That would explain a lot.” Lexi replies with a somber nod.
“Sucks to think about, but yeah. What else is there? What other rationality is there for how she detached from us completely as soon as it happened? As soon as she knew you were pregnant she had us out on our asses. I think she wanted us gone for a long time.”
“Probably.”
“I’m sorry I snapped, I just ain’t equipped for you challenging me like that yet. Honestly? I don’t have any of the answers to your questions. I wish I did. I wish I could provide stability, I wish I could make enough to keep a roof over our head without havin’ to worry about whether or not I can even afford the next shitty fuckin’ motel. But really, this is the only way I can do it. There’s more money in pro-wrestling than kickboxing, but I gotta build a name. At least to some degree. As long as I’m makin’ enough to keep us fed and sheltered, I’ll be happy. And then we can work on a backup plan. Until then, I just gotta hope this pays off. Do you trust me on this?”
“You’ve done right by me so far. More than anyone else has, at least. You took the fall with me, when you didn’t have to. You could have left me in the lurch, stayed comfortable back in Florida, you could have sold me out, but you didn’t. You had no obligation to come with me to whatever shithole town I would have ended up in on my own, but you did it anyway. Of course I trust you. I just worry, you know? You’re a month into your wrestling career and you’ve broken your nose in front of a miniscule, indifferent crowd and still saw the match through to the end. I kinda feel proud of you for that, my big brother’s a badass warrior and all that sentimental crap. But it’s also concerning. If you keep going all-out like this without knowing what you’re doing, I don’t know where you might end up, but it won’t be good.” Lexi muses.
“I get it, I do. I guess I just feel like if I go out there and work hard enough I can get us what we ain’t had – a home. I don’t want my niece growin’ up like we’ve had to. We all deserve that much. I feel like I’ve got a reason for doin’ this. I’ve never been so clear on anything in my life.” Josh confesses.
"Does 'home' even really exist? It doesn't feel like it. Everywhere we've been has felt so..."
"...Dead?"
"Pretty much."
"I dunno, but I think it's worth a shot. Tryin' to find home, if it's out there. Don't you?" He asks.
“I get it. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Josh gives his sister a look as he exhales a lungful of acrid smoke from the corner of his mouth, as though pleading with her for some guarantee. He’d been forsaken by too much of his family already; Lexi was pretty much all he had left.
“I promise.” She affirms.
Josh gives a small, crooked smile. All he could muster in the face of the bleak mood hanging over him, but he felt hopeful. Together, he and Lexi could take on the world, like they had done for years. They'd survive this yet, they had to. As long as Josh still drew breath, he'd keep fighting until his very last. It was starting to feel as though that was all he knew.
Winfield, Kansas
August 2009
(Off-Camera)
"Fuckin'... Ow. Shit." Josh Kennedy mutters. His face is covered in blood, all stemming from his nose, which erupted after a particularly rough chair shot during a match at the independent show he'd performed in just an hour earlier. It was undoubtedly broken. The blood leaks all over the musty beige carpet of the motel room, soaking in and leaving its unmistakable coppery smell in the air. The bleeding had mostly slowed to a crawl now, a few errant drops escaping his busted nostrils.
"We need to get you to a hospital." A concerned female voice observes, Josh's sister, Lexi. A mere 16 years old, the look on her face conveyed a maturity forced upon her well ahead of its time. Her soft facial features had been sharpening of late, her face still strikingly pretty, but she now looked like a woman as opposed to a young girl. She's pregnant, but hardly showing, even though she's three months into the term, concerning, but considering how they'd been living, it was hardly surprising.
Josh scoffs.
"Yeah, like we can afford that." He says, rolling his eyes. Lexi takes a towel and wipes the blood from her brother's face. The towel comes away stained and wet, and his face is left tinged slightly red.
"Good point. How much did you make from the show?"
"Fifty dollars."
"When’s your next booking?"
"Tomorrow."
"Is it paid?"
"Nah."
Lexi gives him a stern look.
"I thought we'd talked about this, Josh. You need to eat too, you know..."
"We can't afford to. You're living off two meals a day while pregnant, you know how bad that is for the baby already? You're barely showin', how healthy do you think that is? I'm workin' everything I can, lookin' after myself as best I can, but I can afford to make sacrifices you can't. I can't make money without a name, I can't make a name without money and experience. Any gig I can get, paid or unpaid, I've gotta take it. I'm opening shitty indie shows because I don't know shit. I barely even know how to fuckin' wrestle yet. This is all there is right now, Lexi."
"How long’s it been since you last ate something?"
"Yesterday." Josh lies. It's actually been three days. Lexi sees right through him.
"Come on. Really. You've got to tell me this stuff."
"Nah, Lexi, you ain't gotta worry about me with all this other shit you got goin' on."
"That's bullshit and you know it. We're a team, for god's sake. A unit. It's you and me versus the world now, yeah?"
"Been that way for years, ain't it?"
Lexi nods.
"Ever since Dad..." She cuts herself off, unable to bring herself to finish the sentence aloud.
"Yep." Josh agrees, a hint of pain in his voice.
"Why do you think he...?" Once again, skirting around the difficult subject. Josh has no such reservations, instead spitting out the truth with venom, his bitterness at what happened clearly on display.
"What, killed himself?"
"Josh!"
"What? Why can't we say it? He did that to us. He did that to himself. I think we have the right to call it out for what it is."
"Jesus... Fine, whatever. But why do you think he did it?"
"He wanted an escape."
"From what?"
"From life. We were his anchor, we kept him here as long as we could. He was tired of fighting like we are now. Some people just ain't cut out to face their own demons."
"And what were his demons, do you think?"
"Christ, Lexi, if I knew that I'd be a fuckin' therapist and Dad would still be here. We don't get answers, we'll never get 'em. All we get to have are questions." Josh shrugs.
"I just... after all these years, it still doesn't make sense to me."
"That's how it goes."
"Do you think what he did was selfish?"
"What, abandoning his children and wife like that?"
"He didn't abandon us."
"What would you call it, then? He left us alone to fend for ourselves, 'cause Mom sure as fuck didn't hold up her end of that deal neither. He gave into his own need for release instead of standing and fighting until the end. He was a coward; he didn't see anything through. And I was left to pick up the slack."
"And you know you wouldn't have done the exact same thing in his shoes?" Lexi asks.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Bullshit, like you’ve never wanted out of all this.”
“Of this? Getting my shit busted in front of 15 people who didn’t even so much as give a single, fuckin’ sarcastic clap after I worked my ass off to try and entertain them? Of barely gettin’ paid enough to make it to the next show where I barely get paid? The shit we’ve had to sacrifice just to make it this far, and I can’t even keep a goddamn motel roof over our heads for more than a single night? Of course I have. But y’know what gets me out of it? Standin' through it all, continuing to work my ass off until it pays off.”
“And what if it doesn’t? What then?”
“I’ll find another way. Don’t you get it? Fighting for this is all I’ve got. Is it rough? Sure, but it gives me purpose. I’ve felt more alive these past few months than I have for the past eighteen years. I don’t care how bad it all gets, whatever I have to suffer through, I will. At least I could say I tried.” Josh rants. The strong smell of the blood clinging to Josh’s nose is quickly becoming intolerable, his head pounding. The anger burning in centre of his skull wasn’t helping much either, and the cheap, worn-out room was beginning to feel suffocating. He opens the door to the motel room and motions outside.
“I need some air and a smoke. Goddamn…”
“Want me to come with?” Lexi offers.
“Do whatever you want.” He shrugs, flippantly. Their little discourse had awakened Josh’s petty side somewhat.
Lexi sighs and gets to her feet from the edge of the bed she’d been sitting on.
Josh produces a lighter from his pocket and a packet of cigarettes, placing one in his mouth and lighting it immediately. All of these actions were done quickly and fluidly, a massive urgency behind his desire for a nicotine fix, as though it would help ease all his burdens. The fresh air and the gentle chill of the August breeze made Josh feel considerably better off. The sharp pain running along the bridge of his nose eased up just a little. Lexi meekly peers out of the doorway, not wanting to agitate her brother further.
“How’s the nose feeling?” She asks.
“Still hurts like a fuckin’ bitch. Gotta be broken or somethin’.”
“Look, I’m sorry, the last thing I want to do is piss you off.”
“Nah, it’s my bad, I was being an asshole. I’m still holding onto all this shit from Dad. And I doubt that's gonna change, what happened was fucked up. But this? This is my fault; I wasn’t cut out for this. I'm sorry, you deserve better.
“You did great, Josh. You took everything on your shoulders when Mom went ghost on us.”
“Y’know, I don’t think Mom ever really wanted us anyway. Maybe she liked the idea of it, but I think Dad was the one who wanted kids. 11 years old and I had to fend for both of us because she’d convinced herself that work was all that mattered.”
“That would explain a lot.” Lexi replies with a somber nod.
“Sucks to think about, but yeah. What else is there? What other rationality is there for how she detached from us completely as soon as it happened? As soon as she knew you were pregnant she had us out on our asses. I think she wanted us gone for a long time.”
“Probably.”
“I’m sorry I snapped, I just ain’t equipped for you challenging me like that yet. Honestly? I don’t have any of the answers to your questions. I wish I did. I wish I could provide stability, I wish I could make enough to keep a roof over our head without havin’ to worry about whether or not I can even afford the next shitty fuckin’ motel. But really, this is the only way I can do it. There’s more money in pro-wrestling than kickboxing, but I gotta build a name. At least to some degree. As long as I’m makin’ enough to keep us fed and sheltered, I’ll be happy. And then we can work on a backup plan. Until then, I just gotta hope this pays off. Do you trust me on this?”
“You’ve done right by me so far. More than anyone else has, at least. You took the fall with me, when you didn’t have to. You could have left me in the lurch, stayed comfortable back in Florida, you could have sold me out, but you didn’t. You had no obligation to come with me to whatever shithole town I would have ended up in on my own, but you did it anyway. Of course I trust you. I just worry, you know? You’re a month into your wrestling career and you’ve broken your nose in front of a miniscule, indifferent crowd and still saw the match through to the end. I kinda feel proud of you for that, my big brother’s a badass warrior and all that sentimental crap. But it’s also concerning. If you keep going all-out like this without knowing what you’re doing, I don’t know where you might end up, but it won’t be good.” Lexi muses.
“I get it, I do. I guess I just feel like if I go out there and work hard enough I can get us what we ain’t had – a home. I don’t want my niece growin’ up like we’ve had to. We all deserve that much. I feel like I’ve got a reason for doin’ this. I’ve never been so clear on anything in my life.” Josh confesses.
"Does 'home' even really exist? It doesn't feel like it. Everywhere we've been has felt so..."
"...Dead?"
"Pretty much."
"I dunno, but I think it's worth a shot. Tryin' to find home, if it's out there. Don't you?" He asks.
“I get it. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Josh gives his sister a look as he exhales a lungful of acrid smoke from the corner of his mouth, as though pleading with her for some guarantee. He’d been forsaken by too much of his family already; Lexi was pretty much all he had left.
“I promise.” She affirms.
Josh gives a small, crooked smile. All he could muster in the face of the bleak mood hanging over him, but he felt hopeful. Together, he and Lexi could take on the world, like they had done for years. They'd survive this yet, they had to. As long as Josh still drew breath, he'd keep fighting until his very last. It was starting to feel as though that was all he knew.
