Open up thyself, feel the wind between your fingers as you ride upon a horse of winged bliss. Kiss the mouth of the moon and light up a candle within. Breathe in serenity, taste the bittersweet serendipty of the night. Embrace me with your ebon wings of saddened happiness, you're an oximoron incarnate. Touch me with your rough fingers, I'll make them smooth again. Trust in me, something anew. For I'd never be your pain.

An elderly woman hunched beside a garbage can, rustling in trash for any morsal of food. Tis' cold night wears think on her eyes, lined with ice and an emotion of sorrow and need. Left alone by her family, withering in the frozen desert of Nowhere, America... driven to begging... crying... dying. In her silence, she speaks so many words to an unknown voice in her mind, contrary to reality, and anything coherent. Taking a deep breath she succumbs to defeat in the nearly empty garbage, crumpling up papers around her to kep warm. She shivers, goosebumps trailing on the uncovered skin between holes and seams in her tattered clothing.

"Hopeless. It's so hopeless."

In the greenest of her eye, change in time and place, a different person and age, perhaps. A movie star, perched on a pedestal above all society, a J-lo of her time. Beautiful, luxurious lifestyle with everything to lose, yet bodyguards held stationary behind her precious mind, body and spirit. Every step was photographed, even as a lonely tear fell from her eye. Abandoned by her lovers, friends and family, she endured the Papparatzi with little will left in her tank of life. Her fake smile hid her screams, her teeth too many times bleached shone brightly behind. Her heels, clicking upon the ground, she trips.... and falls in front of a Flower Vendor. She looks up, brushing at a scraped knee.

"Hopeless. It's all so hopeless."

Transitioning to the green eyes, red curls draping in front of them, lips pursed in anger. Sadness, of being so alone in the society from hell. Backing away from a tall dresser in a hotel room, a ciggarette dangling from her mouth, Kitten paced slowly in front of a television, brushing at her soft chin. She had showered, water still dripping from the ringlets in her hair. Black strands of hair layed chopped underneath, Kitten's new look satisfying to anyone.. unordinary or looking for something.. unique. Lost in love and tranquility, never able to find the right path, Ktiten ventures through her mind for anything that can calm the pain. Leaning against the bedframe, looking to the thelephone, Kitten sighs in desperation, only for her mind to cooperate.

"It's so hopeless. All of it."

Her eyes trailed over newspapers from weeks and weeks left passed. Unaware of what was today from yesterday, too caught up in work and her own turmoil, she had forgotten the society she had once so critically despised. Touching her cheek in the clouded mirror of the hotel vanity, Kitten looks for any sign of impurity on the patches of skin she knew as cheeks. But her mind was withering, slowly becoming insane in the lonliness, she looked to her own eyes as if she were a different person.

"Oh..... hello, there. Can you help me?"

The figure that looked like Kitten, but was no longer Kitten replied,"

"What do you need, young madame?"

Cold eyes met in an eerie pattern of movemets that only one with misguided superstitions would stand in awe about. Anyone else, ould have run away. For the two looked the same, one in the mirror, and one in physical form. But together, they were entirely different. Jeckal and Hyde.

"I have lost my soul. Can you help me find it?"

A grin came from the Kitten in the mirror, as she faded away into nothing. Kitten was now, and again, alone.

".....You've taken it."


On the balcony, Kitten sat finishing the last pack of Menthol 100's, holding her temple in pain. In one hand was a asprin bottle, in another, a dry scotch. She drank the contents down just before, four painkillers rotting in her gut.

"Then I guess this is the way it remains. I will always have my friends.... the ones that talk and listen the most... the ones in the mirror. And I guess taht will be my only freedom. I feel I should break the glass, and let myself fly free fromt he cruelty of this forbidden path I follow.......... This weekend, I will face an old friend in the ring. I really have no idea why we have ended up this way. It is sad to see he has so much hatred for me. Because no matter what hashappened, I hold hate for no one."

A child appears in front of her, smiling. The child cocks her head to the side, and giggles.

"There is nothing better than cheese graters scraping together in elevators."

Kitten looks up to the girl, catching the same frame of insanity that the ghost before her had.

"If you put bread in the toaster, the toast can never become bread again."

"I know... quite unfair, isn't it?"



Kitten's hand raised to wave goodbye to the girl, not understanding why she was chosen by the girl to be spoken to. But it happened, and Kitten smiled. Sometimes her own illusions and hallucinations amused her. She had pondered about them for hours. None of it made sense, but to Kitten it was all the sense in the world. It reminded her of the hilarity and ironicity over her and Jem's decline in their friendship. And how Revolution still thought they had J.E.R.K.s and the XWF by the ball hairs. She never had made an odd move in ehr decisions with them, nor had she illusioned defeat under the hands of Revolution. Times had been hard recently, trying to peice a life that had suddenly dropped from the spotlight, and into behind the scenes. Trying to overcome her past, and remember the hope for the future. Some people need to remind George W. Bush about that. Write it down, or quote me. But trust me, you'll see him one day.. and you need to tell him for me.

"Jem, we were old friends. What realy happened? Was it my attitude towards you in the last few weeks? There are perfectly good explainations for that. If not, what could I have done to possibly make a man like you hate me so much that you want to release some sort of inner demon upon me? Honestly I don't care what you unleash on me. Because once your fist is in the air, all cool points are out the window. No holds barred. You will fall. I may be just a woman. I may be something you think you can predict. I will not assume things about you, either. But I haven't found one man who has been able to beat me fairly. Bigg Rigg never did it, and neither did Jon Page. The only times I have lost were when a tag team partner failed me, or I was cheap-shotted and over-run. ANd I've had worse than you, Jem. Plus... I know where to tickle your fancy, or yank the cord right out from within you. With one simple move I can cause your aorta to explode, filling your chest cavity with blood in less than 8 seconds, drowning your heart. I can... and it would be that easy with any one of the fuckers in this federation."

A long drag stopped Kitten's speaking, a large cloud of cool smoke raising above her, pouring from her lips.

"But Jem, I am not going to waste my time with petty insults or play the Cold War. I am not one to do that. It is just one giant pissing contest I bet I could win just as easily if I were to speak. But I want you to know that this dissapoints me that we have to fight against eachother come this weekend. And I am not going to fight you for any reason but one. I will be damned, cold and dead before you get your couch potato paws on Anarchy. I have owrked too hard and sacraficed a lot of time for the fans and for the wrestlers, they will neevr realize, and would take too long to explain. It will be my only reason. Because unlike you I do not hold false impressions or grudges of one having a bad day. I thought we were coser than that. Usually people are more layed back. But I guess that would only be if you get some booty now and then. Was that an insult to your little lover? No. I am happy you are wih her. Honestly. I bet you are pretty confused of what I think now. Because I really have no qualms with you. Can you believe that?!? Yeah.. no qualms, Jem. Which means you can sleep a little safer tonight......"

Kitten stands, walking back into the hotel room. Inside, a kettle of fresh tea brewed on the tiny stove. It sizzled happiy, alerting almost silently that the tea was hot and ready to drink. Kitten walked into the bathroom, preparing a bath with Jasmine oil, and salts from India. Rose petals dripped slightly fromthe edges of the tub, as Kitten ran the bathwater. She sighed, pulling her fast-growing hair into a small bun, that hung loose with small curls and ringlets. She examined herself in the mirror,as she pulled off her black tank top, and ripped denim jeans. She stood only in her black laced brazzire, and satin panties. She had toned up a little more since boxing back down at Jayne Boyd in the small town located near the hotel. She was actually happy with herself........... Not too shabby. And I bet I haven't missed my edge........ Kitten smiled slightly, smirking as she pulled off her remaining clothing, and stepped into the bath. Baths seemed to relaxher more often than other stress reducing techniques, baths were frequently taken advantage of. Meaningless babble. Who honestly cares for bubble baths anmore anyway? In our time of devastation and terrorism.... times of bad politics and racy television... who reall yhas time for bubble baths?

"....It is only a matter of time before I am finally taken seriously around here. People don't seem to want to believe me. Maybe my words are too contraversial. Maybe it seems so odd that a firey woman from Iowa could be such a philisophical lunatic with pain and chaos on the mind, with a strong liking for felines and chocolate covered cherries, finihing off with a good Menthol. People must think I talk a lot of shit around here. But unlike Bigg RIgg I back up my words. ANd I don't need a bunch of overweight, punky half-witted cronies doing my work for me. I guess that is the whole reason why I can only trust myself.... because I won't lie to myself, or put myself in bad situations I know I can't get out of. I am past that, now. And most must not realize what I am capable of. ....... It's only a matter of time."

Kitten's hand trailed up one smooth leg, rubbing bubbles hard into her flesh. A towel rested ehind her as a pillow, as she drifted into comfort under the sizzling water, and overly abundant amount of bubbles. Contrary to polular belief, she was not in her world of self-pity. But she understood ehr place in the world, and where she could place ehrself so easily if she wanted to. But there was still an once left of hope.... though all hope seemed to be lost in the eyes of a real woman. Tired, Kitten drifted to sleep in her bath, the tea kettle beginning to whistle in the kitchen.....