Post by Enriquetta Иicoletta on Sept 19, 2015 20:52:37 GMT
Are you interested in it? Curious, maybe? Maybe you just want to act interested to get in my pants because I’m a decent looking girl… “At least she doesn’t have a mustache” you think to yourself, while you take another sip of your beer. “Can’t wait to tell all my friends I fucked with a German.”
But you won’t tell them that, because if I do start to tell you my story, you will leave before you finish.
But let’s assume it’s just morbid curiosity, maybe I look eerily interesting to you. Then fine, I’ll tell it as it is.
My story starts with dark undertones, and while they never went, and probably never will, go away, they get toned down, don’t worry about it. My story starts when all my family decided to go away and I broke the rules and stayed. Sure, it was all luck, if that single rope hadn’t break, or another one would have broke as well, I wouldn’t be here. But somethings just are meant to be, and I was meant to go on.
What to do, though, when all your family hangs themselves? Your parents, your uncles and aunts, your cousins, your brothers and sisters. All gone in a single moment, and you, so little to realize what had just happened or the implications of it, in the present, and in the future.
I don’t think there’s a real answer so I just went on living. I was in a orphanage nearby until I was 18, but, thankfully I got to go to a normal school and not some church schooled bullshit. That was when I met Gregory, and by proxy, Jack, as well as Rae. The four of us became what would soon be known, by noone but us, as the “Lonely Hearts Club”. We had reunions, sets of rules and we basically didn’t talk to anyone else.
Not that I wanted to anyways. By this point everyone had assumed I was tied with some dark satanic cult that was conspiring against the church. And, obviously, the death of family was some weird ritual or sacrifice that I managed to escape because of my deal with the Devil. Instead of the most obvious explanations that my family was so full in debt that death was the only sensical solution at that point, and that I just really, really thought religion was bullshit. That’s where “The Devil’s Ragdoll” nickname first came up.
In all of this, those three were my only friends. but I didn’t needed anyone else but them. But they were more than that. They were my pet projects. Gregory was so depressed and dark even at the age of 11 that everybody else was scared of him, so I took him under my wing. Rae cut herself to see how it feels, and it had turned out it felt good, really good. So I took her under my wing. And Jack, well, Jack was okay… at first. It was love that hit him you see? It started off slowly, and in the beginning he was the most normal and, I dare say, happy of the four of us. But he felt in love with Rae. But at some point the story had to end.
It started with me, when I was 18 I was forced to go back to Germany, to deal with my family’s debt, which is to say, to lose everything they left on my name without even having a chance to try it once. All those castles gone… such a pity. But then it was Rae, she left them as well, such is the pain of moving away.
When I found Jackie again, 5 years later, he was outside a indie wrestling arena (which I’d later find out was his, and eventually my, workplace) laying on the ground in pain for the girl that had left him a big, big while ago, at this point.
After 7 years the group was back again, with one member missing, of course, but it felt good to have my puppies back, and they were still as broken, if not even more broken than before. The depression, the pain of simply being alive had consumed them bit by bit, and they begged me to help them out, so I took them under my wing again. I even went as far as becoming Jack’s manager in GIW.
And all was good, until we met Rae again.
Because while the others were still broken, she was not, she had been revived, reborn! And her solution? “Get rid of Raggs. She’s only pushing you guys down!”
And they believed her, and so they left.
I met them 12 years ago, and for the most part of that time, they were my life, and I was theirs… And they left me. They followed my every move, they listened to my every word, they were inspired by me, amazed by me, curious about how I was and how I worked.
And then THEY left me. Isn’t it funny?
And so I was left alone…
Until I met her.
