Psyche Devyne’s Inner Monologue: This Colour
May 21, 2016
London, England
It has been… a long while since I was home. Home… England.
London. I had missed it. More than I could have imagined. But the
last time I had been here… It was bittersweet. I was home. I was
with my mother. With… a person I could trust. With family. But for
a purpose. My father’s death. His funeral. And still… almost 6 months
later, I still feel the same amount of sadness. Being in this house. His
home. How can she stand it? How can my mother stand to live here?
Torture. Is she torturing herself? Is she punishing herself for what
happened? It wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t save him. Nobody could.
My poor mother…
What was that?
A loud bang sounded behind Psyche. She shot her head around, looking to where she heard the noise. Jason stood in front of a large metal contraption, his back to it. He stared at Psyche, looking at her in shock.
Psyche: “Really, Jason?”
Jason: “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to work this stupid thing.”
He’s so cute when he’s frustrated…
Psyche rolled her eyes, but a small smile was on her face. She got up from the kitchen table she had been sitting at, walking towards Jason.
Psyche: “It’s just an AGA (ah-guh), love. It’s always hot. Just lift the plate there and put whatever you need on it. And turn up the dial a bit. It really isn’t that hard.”
Psyche held her hand out towards the extremely old oven. Yes, this one was made in the 30s… but it still worked perfectly. She took the years of use for granted, though. She had always assumed everyone knew how to use them.
Jason: “I just want to make some bacon and eggs!”
Psyche: “And where, prey tell, are the eggs and bacon you wish to make?”
Jason: “The fuck?”
Psyche smiled at him and shrugged.
Jason: “In the fridge… duh.”
He’s going to open that door and be so disappointed.
I wonder if he’ll sort it out himself?
He walked over and opened the door, looking in. He looked through a few drawers, finding only regular ham that was labeled as bacon.
Jason: “Where’s the normal bacon? And where are the eggs?”
Nope.
Psyche: “Streaky bacon isn’t… as common here. We don’t normally buy it. And the eggs do not belong in the fridge.”
Jason: “Uhhh... yes they do...”
Psyche: “No, love. They don’t. Not here. Try the cupboard.”
Psyche pointed to a cupboard next to the fridge. Jason followed her hand and opened it, finding a carton of eggs. He made a face.
Jason: “That’s kind of gross…”
Psyche: “Not really. We just have different rules here.”
Jason: “What if they hatch or something! Outside of the fridge!”
Psyche laughed. She had heard that myth millions of times visiting America.
Psyche: “You’d need an incubator for that. Or a mother to sit on it. Regular room temperature wouldn’t do much. Don’t worry… you’re not the only one who’s thought that.”
He’s just too bloody adorable.
She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. A few moments later, Jude walked into the kitchen, smiling at the two.
Jude: “Morning, dears.”
Psyche: “Morning, mum. You okay? Sleep well?”
Jude nodded at Psyche. Jason smiled at her as well.
Jason: “I’m just trying to figure out breakfast. You hungry at all?”
Jude: “Oh no, dear. Not really. Just a coffee. Do you need help, though? The AGA can be tough to figure out.”
Jason: “You’re much more helpful than your daughter.”
He turned his head to glare at Psyche. She smirked at him, which he returned.
It’s not my fault you’re bloody-
Psyche: “Hey mum! How about you help Jason make some breakfast. I’m going to run upstairs and have a shower, yeah?”
Jude: “Of course, sweetheart.”
Jason nodded and smiled, watching Psyche leave the room.
He’s so nice to her. He doesn’t even have to be. He treats
her like she’s the most amazing woman he knows. I’ve just
never really seen that. It’s so new. He actually ENJOYS talking
with her. Enjoys being around her. Honestly… He probably likes
her more than me…
She giggles to herself quietly as she reaches the top of the stairs. She makes her way into her bedroom. It is still exactly how she left it.
I don’t think she has the heart to change it. Maybe keeping
it the way I left it makes her feel less alone.
Psyche moved into her room, closing the door behind her for a bit of privacy. Psyche sighed and sat down on her bed, looking around. She bit her lip. She put her arms behind her, leaning back on them.
Psyche: “Here I am… England. The place where I call my home. The place that means everything to me and more. Yet I haven’t been here since January. This was the first time I had come back since… Since my father.”
She drops her head for a moment, thinking.
Psyche: “It’s hard, you know? Hard to forget. Hard to be in this house. Knowing he’s not here. I miss him.”
Psyche lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Psyche: “There’s so many memories here. Past loves. Relationships. Family. Things to remember and things to forget. But sometimes, you forget the good things and remember the bad. Such is life. But in my line of work… in the ring… remembering the bad helps. The memories help you grow. They help you become a better person. They help you get better in the ring. And why not take advantage of that?”
Her eyes shifted, though, to something that had caught her eye. She furrowed her brows and leaned back up.
Who wrote this? I certainly did not. Is that Sharpie?
She got closer to what she saw, using a nail to try and scratch at the footboard of the bed.
Fuckin’ hell…
She sat up fully, moving to her side table. She grabbed something from the drawer and moved back to what she had seen. Written in Sharpie was ‘Psy + Bryan’. Exactly the same as the one seen in Jason’s video. She sat down facing the footboard, looking ahead of her. Her hands moved in front of her.
Psyche: “That is what I try to do. I try to take advantage of the bad things I’ve done and turn them into something better. Turn myself into something better. I can do amazing things in that ring. And I plan to continue to prove what amazing things I can do. I am a force. And week after week, I try to show that. We all have our ups and downs. Our wins and losses. But you learn. You adjust.”
She looks like she’s struggling with something. A scratching sound is heard, but muffled by her voice.
Psyche: “I’ve held a title. For myself, it was a milestone I didn’t think I’d hit. But I did it. I adjusted and won it. But it was taken from me. And one day, I will take it back. Or something else will be mine. But for now, I will do what I can to win what I can. I will break chains that may hold me down. I will fight through darkness. I will break the silence. I will not just sit back and wait for someone to take it all away from me. I will take it from them. I will devastate those I face in the ring. Starting with Blake this week. Surely he thinks he’s better than me. But I will surprise him. He won’t know what’s coming. Won’t know what he’s dealing with until he is pinned to the mat. I will take this win from him. He will be the past. He will be the next step. I will be his past that eats him inside. All I have is the past that haunts me. The past that I must learn from. My past that I cannot forget.”
She sighs, looking down at the footboard. A small smile forms on her face.
Psyche: “The past is hard to erase… But sometimes, opportunities arise. Sometimes… you can scratch out your past.”
Psyche drops a pocket knife onto the bed beside her and stands up. She removes her top and bottoms, tossing them onto the bed. She has on a purple pair of panties with a matching bra. She walks to the bathroom. Her bra flies into view as the camera moves to the bed. Followed by her panties. The shower starts to run as the camera zooms into footboard. The exact spot that had been in Jason’s first promo video was now in Psyche’s. The difference? The words that had previously been seen were scratched out of the wood.
Past erased. |
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