Dodging Fate, The Rebirth

When will we learn?
When will we change?
Just in time to see it all come down.


"Patient Grey Kampman pronounced dead. Time of death is 1:15 AM."

A group of surgeons surrounded the body of Grey Kampman that lay lifeless on a stretcher inside of the Lebonheur Hospital in Memphis. Two of the doctors walked out of the room now, their heads hung low in defeat. Another doctor slowly pulled his gloves off, throwing them into a garbage can and exiting the room as if this was all just business. You can't blame him, after all it is just business for them. The last remaining doctor in the room had a chart in her hands, she was marking down the necessary information for the death of Grey.

"Result of death... blunt force trauma to the head," the doctor stated only to herself, jotting this down on the chart she held in her hands. She let out a deep sigh, the death of another patient had taken it's toll on her today. She laid the chart on top of a desk in the surgical room before making her way towards the double-doors. As she got there, two men were rolling in a cart.

"Where's the body?" the man pushing the right side of the cart asked the doctor. She responded with a pointed finger in the direction of the stretcher in the middle of the room. The two men pushed past the doctor now and began to lift Grey Kampman's body off the stretcher. As they held his body in the air, one of the men lost his grip and Grey's body tumbled four feet to the floor and landed on his back.


"Great! Why don't you just step on him while he's down there," exclaimed the doctor who was now waiting at the door. She held her hands on her hips in frustration and obvious anger.

"Sorry ma'am, he's a big fellow," replied the somewhat clumsy man. He then bent over and along with his partner, prepared to hoist the body up. Before they could lift the dead body up, it let out a sound. The doctor near the edge of the room looked over curiously. The body of Grey Kampman then began to cough, this was followed by a large amount of blood which began to spew out of his mouth.

The doctor pushed a button which triggered an alarm, she then ran quickly over to the men, "Get him on that stretcher!" The men hoisted Grey up and placed him on the stretcher. A team of surgeons quickly rushed in with a sense of urgency, pushing the two men away from the stretcher. The doctors quickly threw on masks and gloves and then proceeded to operate on the once dead body of Grey Kampman.

After a period of about fifteen to twenty minutes the doctors were done. They moved Grey's stretcher out of the room, his eyes were shut. They rolled the stretcher down the hallway and into another room, a regular hospital room. All of the doctors helped move him to the empty hospital bed, hooking him up to a feeding tube and then leaving. Grey Kampman layed in that hospital bed for the next three and a half months in a coma, barely hanging onto life.

"Please don't leave me Grey," sobbed a woman who was sitting on the side of his hospital bed clutching his hand. The woman turned her head in the direction opposite Grey now, she couldn't stand to see him like this. Could she make that decision? Could she pull the plug on the love of her life? She thought about this. "What kind of cruel human being would kill another?" she asked of herself, but "what kind of a human being would let another suffer like this" was a more important question to her. She began to cry louder now, tears visibly rolling down her cheek. She did her best to wipe at her wet eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

"How could I leave someone as beautiful as you?" The words slowly left Grey's lips nearly exhausting him. The woman turned around and flung herself on Grey, hugging his body, she was half in shock and half in the happiest moment in her life. She could see Grey wincing from the pain, she slowly pulled herself off of him.

The first thing that entered her mind came out of her mouth; "I thought you were dead," she said. Grey managed to sit up somewhat.

"The last time a dead person spoke to me... Well I guess that's never happened. How about you?" he said in a joking manner. "I honestly don't even remember what happened to me. The last thing I remember is doing my training and then making my way back home and then... blank!"

She had grabbed a pillow off the edge of the bed and fluffed it up the best she could before placing it behind Grey's head, he relaxed his head back on it. "It's a long story..." she said rather soothingly.

"I've got nothing but time."

She took a deep breath as she prepared to tell him the story of how he ended up here, how he almost ended up dead.

"Well you were on your way home," she began, "but something happened along the way. You were mugged, jumped by three men. Being the hard-headed person you are you fought back, then two of the men tackled you while the other one hit you over the head with a lead pipe repeatedly. I thought they had killed you..."

She burst into tears, Grey slowly moved his hand up and down her back to calm her down.

"I'm still alive baby," he told her.

"I know," she replied. "I just can't stop thinking about how you almost didn't make it."

"Tell me something," he explained, "Why the fuck does my back hurt like hell?" He leaned foward some and put his hand on his back as he grimaced in pain.

"That's the other part of the story," she said. "After they got you to the hospital they pronounced you dead. You were actually officially dead for four minutes and thirty eight seconds. Then when they came to move your dead body, one of the men dropped you on your back and then that somehow woke you up."

"That's one hell of a fuckin' story!" Grey replied jokingly. She let out a little bit of a laugh. Grey kissed her on the head before leaning back onto the pillow, "I've got to get out of this place, I hate hospitals."

"Just get your rest," she said. "You'll be out of this place in no time."


That was six months ago.

Grey now sat at the edge of his bed inside his own home, staring at some peice of paper, a document of some kind. He shook his head trying to clear his mind as he held his own death certificate in his hands.

"It has barely been half a year since I died and then somehow fought my way back alive. The doctors could never really explain what happened to me, what woke me up, but I knew what woke me up. Some fatass dropped me on the floor..."

He stood up now and walked over to the nightstand in the far side of the room, he held the death certificate over it. He stood there, still peering at the document.

"No, it wasn't being dropped on a hard floor that brought me back to life, the only thing that did was make walking a pain in the ass for the next month. What woke me up was God. I saw him, I looked him in the eyes. I told him this wasn't meant to be my time, at least that's how I felt. I didn't care when my time was, it wasn't then!"

He slammed his fist onto the dresser, a lamp fell off the nightstand causing a loud thud.

"What was that? Are you alright in there?" came her voice from another room.

"I'm fine Melissa, it was just the lamp," he replied as he put the lamp back on the nightstand and resumed his train of thought.

"I've gotten to know God over the past couple years of my life and I've found out one thing, he doesn't like me too damn well. Did I cry about that? Did I turn emo and cut my wrists everytime he took a piss on me? Never, I took it all in stride. Pretty soon I just lived with the fact that I was dealt a shitty hand in the game we all know as life. I learned to live with my back against the wall, always like a cat trapped in a corner. I've shut mostly everyone out, I couldn't deal with any more pain from people I trusted. I protected myself from being hurt by people I loved."

He made his way over to his dresser now, digging through the articles of clothing to try and find something to wear.

"I lived half my life secluded from everyone else. That's all until the day I met Melissa. She broke that shell I had on the outside, I honestly can't tell you how she did it but she did and I'm thankful for that. I still have a crappy life, but at least someone's there with me to shovel the shit."

Melissa came walking into the room just as Grey was putting on a shirt, she walked over to him and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks honey," he said after taking a sip of the coffee. He then set it down on the nightstand in front of Melissa, he began to massage her shoulders not noticing that she was holding the death certificate in her hands now. She turned around and looked him in the eyes.

"Why do you still look at this thing every day? It will only make you depressed," she said.

He began to speak, but couldn't form the right words. Instead, he grabbed the certificate out of her hands and shove it in the drawer in the nightstand. Melissa was infuriated by him snatching it out of her hands, but Grey spoke first.

"I can't do this with you, I can't have this fight every day. I know I look at it every morning and I don't expect you to understand why I do. It's not something you should understand because you haven't been through it yourself," Grey stated.

"I haven't been through it?" she shouted furiously. "Don't tell me I haven't been through it Grey, I was there by your side for over three months just watching you and praying to God that you would wake up. I did that for three months Grey, I don't expect you to understand that!"

She walked over to the bed about to cry, but her anger had too strong of a hold on her. She sat on the bed now, it was only when he sat beside her that tears fell from her eyes.

"I'm not saying you didn't go through hell baby," he began. "I'm just asking you to just cope with the fact that there's some things that whole experience did to me that you couldn't possibly understand. I don't want to do this baby, not here, not now. We've gone through too much together, can't we just let things be for now?"

He slowly placed his arm around her shoulder. She sat there for a moment, deciding whether to give in or to fight back. Suddenly she pushed his hand away and stood to her feet, making her way to the door. She turned around and looked him dead in the face.

"I can't deal with it Grey, I can't just let it be. Ever since you got out of that coma you've shut me out from your life. Every day I see you look at that thing, it just brings back bad memories for me and I know it does the same for you. You tell me when your ready to grow up and deal with your problems like a man. Tell me when you're ready to let me back in on your life," she said while not yelling but having a furious tone in her voice. She then proceeded to leave the room as Grey sat by himself on the bed. He hung his head low, looking down at the floor as he thought to himself.

"I can tell her... What am I saying, how can I tell her? I'm not letting her in, she's right about that, but how the hell does she expect me to be the same man I was before. I was nearly murdered! Hell, I was murderered for four and a half fucking minutes. I lost another three and a half months of my life while I was in a coma. How the hell can she look me in the eye with a straight face and questioned why I've changed!?! I can't deal with this..."

Grey stood up, his face full of anger, he felt like she was becoming just another one of those people that he let in who was going to hurt him. He left the room and entered the living room only to grab a jacket. Melissa was in the living room, leaning up against the wall crying. He took a quick glance at her, she met his glance, and then he quickly walked out the front door, slamming it behind him. Her sobs became heavier, Grey just kept walking.


"Coldhearted? Maybe just a little, but if you were in my situation you wouldn't think so low of me. It's been like this ever since I got out of the hospital, it's constant nagging every second of the day. I know why she does it, of course she worries about me and she doesn't want me to keep bringing up what happened to me, but she doesn't understand that it helps me get on with the day. Something like what happened to me takes alot out of you and it's hard to pull yourself back together."

"I've had enough of this to be honest, sitting around and wondering when I'm actually going to get on with my life. I took one step at least, I'm back in the wrestling business. I've chosen the grand daddy of all wrestling federations to join, Supreme Championship Wrestling. SCW, where the elite play. I picked SCW because I want to test myself, I'm sick of playing top dog in a small yard. Sure it's been a couple months since I stepped foot in a ring and I know there are going to be some growing pains that come with the process, but if it's going to make me better then I'm all for it."

"My first match isn't one to my liking, whenever you jump in the ring with two other men there's a likely chance that you are going to get screwed. To make matters worse, I don't know shit about the other two people. Handsome Johnny and Steele? Two newcomers much like myself. I guess they are at just as much of a disadvantage as myself because they both don't know who the hell I am. I can deal with that as long as everything's equal. Then again, I couldn't give two shits if everything's equal or not. I've fought better and I've beaten better and I can say that without a doubt in my mind. Handsome Johnny and Steele? Their names just put fear in your hearts don't they? Yeah, I didn't think so."

"Bunch of pussies if you ask me. Cakewalk. How could I know this and not have seen them fight before? The names say it all. Handsome Johnny and Steele? Those are Hollywood names. I'm sure these two idiots will come out running their mouths, that's fine with me. That's more than fine with me actually. Handsome Johnny will try to do the whole 'cool guy' bit, while Steele will probably try and be the silent-strong type. Black belt in karate? That's to your advantage right? Yeah, except the fact that we'll be in a wrestling ring. Steele and Handsome Johnny... Potential jobbers in SCW."

"You all have one fate, don't try and dodge it."