Comfortably Numb

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Saturday, July 25th, 2015
University Medical Center
Las Vegas, Nevada
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The early afternoon sunlight cast a brilliant glow upon the impressive cement building, rising up like a monolith in the desert. The highly acclaimed University Medical Center stood head and shoulders above the rest in terms of quality patient care and excellence in service. The doctors and nurses who are lucky enough to work here have made it their personal commitment to be there at all levels of care, and that includes taking care of the friends and family who come by to visit with their relatives.


Standing just outside the main entrance is one such visitor. Clad in light blue jeans, a blue and white horizontal striped tank top and black ballet flats, the woman runs a hand through her softly curled blonde hair as she stares up at the hospital. The woman, who is actually Las Vegas native Savannah Taylor, stands with her hands in her back pockets and looks up at the hospital with a look of apprehension. Considering her luck, or lack thereof with hospitals, one would naturally assume that stepping inside the doors would bring up memories of almost one year ago. If only it were that simple. Savannah was standing outside the hospital as a result of a completely by chance encounter she had the night before. She was set to watch the Lip Sync battle as part of the EXODUS Fan Experience leading up to the iPPV, but that all changed. It changed when she ran into a young woman by the name of Harper. It was in talking with her that Savannah discovered that Harper wasn’t just some normal seventeen year old, but she was her sister. Finding out she had a sister, a fact that was later confirmed to be true, threw her for a loop. But what really took Savannah by surprise was finding out that her oft-estranged mother was currently in the hospital, recovering from a motor vehicle accident. Hearing that bit of news stirred something inside of Savannah that compelled her to show up at the hospital. Drawing in a sharp breath, Savannah adjusts her smallish purse over her arm and forces herself to walk towards the door. The automatic doors open with a woosh as she steps inside the lobby. The smell of disinfectant hits her nostrils as she makes her way over to the elevators. Pressing the up button, she waits as she fishes out a small slip of paper from her jeans pocket. That paper contained the floor number and room number where her mother was currently staying. Clutching it in her fingers, the doors open with a slight ping as Savannah steps inside. She presses the four button and leans back against the cool metal railing as the doors close.


So many thoughts were going through Savannah’s head as the elevator made its way up to the fourth floor. The last time that she saw or even spoke to her mother was well over a year ago. That conversation went about as poorly as one could imagine. For Savannah, it was a one sided argument that was mainly her yelling and venting twenty plus years of frustrations. Looking back on that last encounter, she was left wondering if that would be the last time she would see her mother. Back then, she was a woman who was filled with an undeniable amount of rage, rage directed at her mother and her father. But as time went on, she found herself feeling the rage inside lessening. All she ever wanted were some answers. There was no time like the present.


The elevator came to a lurching stop and the doors opened up onto the fourth floor. Savannah stepped out into the brightly lit hallway, her heart beating a thousand beats per second. She looks down at the crumpled paper in her hand and looks down the hallway to the right of where she came out of the elevator. Heaving a sigh, she starts off down the hall in what she viewed as the longest walk of her entire life. If this were a movie, then the tile floor would be painted a bright green and her final destination wouldn’t be her mother’s hospital room, but the electric chair. It doesn’t take long before she is standing just outside her mother’s room. Shoving the paper back into her pocket, she wipes her palms on her jeans and tentatively knocks on the doorframe. The achingly familiar voice from her childhood calls out from the inside. Savannah takes a few small steps inside and finds herself face to face with not only her mother, but her father and her sister as well. Her parents look on in somewhat shock.


Carla Taylor: S….Savannah?


Savannah Taylor: Hi mom.


Martin Taylor: I’m kind of surprised to see you, considering what happened last time…


Savannah looks at her father with the slightest hint of a smile as she takes a seat in the chair by the foot of her mother’s bed. Her father was on the side closest to the door and her sister was next to the large picture window.


Savannah Taylor: Let’s just say I was convinced to come here when I found out what happened last night.


She glances over at her sister, who looks down with a sheepish smile.


Savannah Taylor: So, uhh, how are you feeling?


Carla Taylor: The injuries aren’t as bad as they initially thought. I should be able to go home as early as tomorrow.


Savannah Taylor: That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. And that, you know you’re alive.


Carla Taylor: Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.


A few somewhat awkward seconds pass before Martin clears his throat slightly.


Martin Taylor: I’m guessing that there is a much bigger reason why you’re here. I’m glad you are here, though. Don’t get me wrong.


Savannah can only nod her head in her father’s direction. Carla senses this and turns her attention to her younger daughter.


Carla Taylor: Harper, honey, maybe you should wait outside or even go to the cafete…..


Savannah looks at her mother and cuts her off.


Savannah Taylor: She stays. She’s family, so she stays.


Harper Taylor: Are….are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to make anything more awkward.


Savannah Taylor: You are part of this family. You deserve to hear whatever happens.

The youngest person in the room can only nod as she sinks back into her chair and watches as her sister turns to her parents. Savannah rests her purse on her lap as she weighs how she wants to proceed.


Savannah Taylor: You know it’s funny. I’ve spent the better part of a year thinking about what would happen if I ever was face to face with you guys again. I’ve thought of so many situations in my head, so many things I wanted to say. I know what happened the last time we saw each other; I said some horrible things and did some horrible things. But as time has ticked by, I’ve felt a lot of that anger start to subside.


She laughs softly to herself as tucks a strand of flaxen hair behind her head, the same color hair that both her mother and her sister share. Her father’s hair was a slightly darker shade of blond, but blond nonetheless.


Savannah Taylor: I guess what I want more than anything right now is the truth. Mom, why did you let yourself get caught up in all of that mess that caused you to end up in prison?


The look on Savannah’s face was not one of malice, but of real and genuine curiosity. Carla adjusts herself in her bed as best she can so she is better able to address her oldest daughter.


Carla Taylor: It isn’t as complex or even as deep rooted as you might think. Before I met your father, I came across these people whom I ended up befriending. We would hang out on the weekends; go to clubs and casinos and whatnot, the typical Las Vegas lifestyle. It was maybe a few monthsinto this friendship that they started divulging some more secretive aspects of their life to me. That is when the various baggies and bottles came into play. I didn’t take anything in the bottles, but the different colored powders I saw in the baggies were intriguing. Pretty soon they were not only introducing me to this dangerous game, but they were encouraging me to take part in it. After all, they were friends and I wanted to be viewed as an equal. My stupid self was out one night and I pulled out one of the baggies that they had given me. Only I didn’t realize but a police officer was standing right near me when I flashed it out.


Carla pauses as she reaches for the plastic tumbler sitting on the bedside table and takes a long sip of water. She sets the glass down with a slight thud as she continues.


Carla Taylor: That is how I ended up in jail for about a year. After I got out, I made a vow to keep myself out of trouble. I got a job at the local library. I met your father. Everything seemed to be looking up and everything looked like it would be perfect for the rest of time. After I gave birth to you, we were facing some slight financial issues. Your father took on more hours with the trucking company and I took a second job at the Tropicana. Looking back now, I wish I never had taken that second job. I was in a good position in my life. I had a wonderful husband. We had a beautiful baby girl. What could possibly happen that would screw that up?


She says with a sardonic smile on her face as she shakes her head slightly.


Carla Taylor: It turns out one simple, somewhat unknowing gesture cost me more than anyone could fathom. One day, your grandmother brought you home after a day in the park and had accidentally bumped into the table where I always kept my purse. It tipped over and stuff had spilled out onto the floor. She was picking up the contents and started putting stuff back when she found the plastic baggie. I didn’t know it at the time and neither did she, but someone else who worked at the Tropicana had the same exact purse that I had at the time and thought she was putting it into her purse, but it ended up in mine instead. Your grandmother did what any loving parent would do in a situation like this. She called the police and it wasn’t long before I wasn’t in jail. Because this was a second offense, they sent me right off to prison. They didn’t even care that I was innocent for a change. So that, in a nutshell, it what happened all those years ago.


Savannah looks at her mother, having listened to her explanation of things for the first time in, well, ever. Maybe it was because she was older and slightly wiser, but she could hear regret and remorse in her mother’s voice. She clears her throat and turns from her mother to her father.


Savannah Taylor: What happened with Grandma?


Martin Taylor: That was my doing, I’m regrettably admitting.


Savannah Taylor: What did you do, dad?


Savannah’s voice was slowly starting to drift to the emotional side as she waits for her father to explain what happened.


Martin Taylor: I was blinded by anger. I was angry at having my wife, the love of my life taken away from me for something that wasn’t even her fault that I took it out on the one person who was only acting like an actual adult. I took it out on your grandmother. I made up a story that was a complete lie and that resulted in Child Protective Services being called and you being removed from her home. With your mother in prison and with me on the road for weeks at a time, the decision was made to put you into the foster care system.


The revelation hit Savannah like a sack full of bricks. She remembered that fateful day when she was five. She remembers the people from the State coming in and the chaos that ensued. She remembered being an innocent little girl and having her entire world not just turned upside down, but ripped to shreds. Her grandmother’s house was the last place that ever truly felt like home to her. It was the last place she remembered, up until a year ago, feeling at peace. Her eyes began to glisten as she forces down the slight feeling of nausea.


Savannah Taylor: So you were blinded by a misplaced feeling of anger. You destroyed your own mother’s life because she actually did the right thing. Yet you didn’t even stop to think how this would affect the real victim here…..me. You didn’t think how this would shape MY life. Why did you allow this to happen? Why did you let your little girl be subjected to the kind of hell that you can’t really emotionally recover from?


The tears have begun to fall from her crystal blue eyes as she continues speaking.


Savannah Taylor: After Mom got released from prison, how come you two never fought for me? How come you never wanted me back in your lives?


The normally confident and collected professional wrestler was instead replaced by a scared and unsure little girl. She was replaced by a little girl who simply wanted to know why her family abandoned her and set her on a course that would make her the woman that graced the EXODUS ring.


Savannah Taylor: Because from the age of five right up until I turned eighteen, I went from place to place, searching for a sense of home. I wanted nothing more than to find a family, who would love me, protect me and most of all, fight for me. For one reason or another, no one wanted to take that risk. No one wanted to risk having the daughter of a convict living in their midst. Do you know the kind of psychological trauma I went through because of everything you just told me?


This time, it is Carla’s turn to have the tears fall down from her face.


Carla Taylor: Oh honey, you don’t know how hard we fought to get you out of there. When I was released, I wanted nothing more than to have my daughter back in my arms. I wanted to make up for everything. We fought and we fought, but we were told that there was no way you would be returned to us. There were people within the Department of Child Welfare who felt that no matter how much I proved myself, a convicted felon would never win against them. Despite that, we kept on fighting what was proving to be a losing battle. Then I became pregnant with and gave birth to your sister. Even though I had been given a second chance at being a mother, I still wanted nothing more than to have you back in my life.


Martin Taylor: We both screwed up, Savannah. We also know that no amount of apologies can ever take away what you went through. We thought that if we ever were able to see you again, we would get everything out in the open and hopefully begin the healing process. But the last time we saw you, we froze. I saw the hurt on your face. It’s something we both carry in our minds to this day.


Savannah closes her eyes and rests her forehead on her fist. So many things were going through her mind right now, the least of which was her match on Monday against Justin Brooks. It took several years, but she was finally getting some much needed and much anticipated answers. Picking her head up, she opens her eyes and wipes away some of the tears with the back of her hand.


Savannah Taylor: I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for God knows how long. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind last year or even the year before that to have this much dialogue with you guys. I think……I think I’d like to start communicating like this, with all of you again. I want to get to know my parents again, and I’d like to get to know the sister I never knew I had until yesterday.


The look on her parent’s faces was priceless. It didn’t show much shock or trepidation, but rather hope. However, the hopeful
mood was quickly replaced by a more somber feeling as Carla cleared her throat.


Carla Taylor: You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to hear that. But there is something that you should know, something that I need to tell you.


Savannah Taylor: Ok……I’m listening.


Carla looks at her husband and then at her youngest daughter, their expressions matching hers, before she turns her attention back to Savannah.


Carla Taylor: About a month and a half ago, I was getting my annual checkup at the doctor’s office. She decided to run some tests to make sure everything was running smoothly. About a week later, her office calls me in to discuss these results. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but was nervous going in there. One of the tests that were run was a mammogram, which was no big deal because I was coming up on my yearly one anyway.


She stops briefly and watches as Savannah bites her lip, almost afraid of what was next.


Carla Taylor: To make a long story short, I was diagnosed with Stage II Breast Cancer.


Time stopped right then and there. All Savannah heard was a wall of static in her mind when she heard the word cancer come from her mother’s mouth. It seemed like it wasn’t real, like this was all part of a sick and twisted prank that everyone knew about but her. Savannah sat back in her chair and blinked a few times, feeling a fresh bout of tears coming on. She sniffed a couple of times before reaching into her purse for a tissue. As she is fumbling around, her fingers graze against her iPhone. They remained there for a second before she lets go. Her world was slowly becoming more chaotic as the minutes ticked by. Yet the first thing in her mind was calling someone. She wanted nothing more right now than to pick up her phone and call someone, someone who would listen to her and tell her that things were going to eventually be alright. Unfortunately the one person Savannah wanted to talk to above everyone was also the one person who wanted nothing to do with her. She tried to push that thought out of her head as she finds the tissue and dabs at her eyes. That feeling of regret when she touched her phone would have to wait. Hell, even her final match preparations for Justin Brooks would have to wait. Right now, her family needed her as much as she needed them. This visit was proving to be a step in the right direction of slowly repairing not only a broken family unit, but a broken spirit as well.


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Motivation: the state or condition of being motivated or having a strong reason to act or accomplish something.


Drive: an inner urge that stimulates activity or inhibition; a basic or instinctive need.


These are two basic qualities that are found in any one human being and make up part of the human psyche. But what drives us? What inside of us ticks that causes us to set out in hopes of achieving greatness? What are we motivated by? Do we have some sort of hidden, deeply hidden desire to appease others and to make them proud of us? Do you want to know what drives me? For just about the entire twenty seven years that I have been alive on this planet, I’ve had just about everyone tell me that I wouldn’t make it to where I am today. Very few people believed in me enough to think I would ever make anything of myself in this industry. I set out from day one to prove each and every person wrong. It’s something that I am doing to this day. I want nothing more than to look at every person who has ever doubted me and simply stick a middle finger up right in their face. The thought of being better than I was yesterday is what keeps me in this business. The mere idea that I can accomplish what so few in this business, and especially this company, have done is what makes me want to keep going. I want nothing more than to put my name on the list of people who can call themselves EXODUS World Champion. Call me crazy, but I want to become Word champion so I can achieve something that has eluded me in the near two year that I have been in EXODUS. I want validation. I want to have that one moment in my career where the people around me, people who have entirely too many preconceived notions about me, finally show me a sliver of respect. Four weeks ago, I had that chance. I had the coveted once in a lifetime chance to reach out and grab the ultimate brass ring. I took Chris Strike probably farther to the brink than anyone has before. I had him teetering on the edge of defeat. I was THIS close to becoming World champion. But something happened that halted my dream of validation.


Justin Brooks happened.


Justin Brooks, the man who has a very hard time accepting the fact that someone was better than him and that better person took his “precious” International championship from him, took it upon himself to cost me the biggest match of my career. He cost me the World championship. If it wasn’t for him, I would be the one main eventing Welcome Oblivion against Beowulf, not Chris Strike. If it wasn’t for Justin Brooks, I would be getting the adulation from the wrestling world, forcing the front office to recognize me as its champion. Instead, some Neanderthal with an inferiority complex took that dream away from me. Do you want to know the absolute worst part of it all? People cheered for him. People were HAPPY that he screwed me out of the World title. Everyone was so quick to defend Justin’s actions that they failed to see that someone’s dream of greatness was dashed. I guess because I was the one it happened to it is automatically OK. Getting involved in a match of that magnitude is never OK. But because it was Justin Brooks, he gets a free pass.


Hypocrites. Every single one of you.


Justin let me ask you something. Are you proud of yourself? Are you sitting back, thinking about what you did with a smile on your face? You should be ashamed of yourself. One would think that a favorite son of EXODUS such as you would walk around with a sense of pride and honor. Does costing someone the World championship sound like the kind of person you want to represent your company? I know I am far from the bastion of morality and ethics around here, but come on. Even I wouldn’t have interfered in a World Title match for crying out loud. Yet here we have you Justin, barging in and acting not like the man that you claim to be, but instead acting like a high school girl throwing a temper tantrum because she wasn’t named head cheerleader. You have a fiancée and children to think about. Don’t you think it would be wise to spend a little more time thinking about their future instead of worrying about chasing after someone who is clearly several leagues ahead of where you currently sit? Grow the hell up and act like a man for the first time in your life. Think about your children and wonder about what kind of legacy you are going to leave behind for them. Are your recent actions something you want them to emulate? When it is time to call it a career, which honestly should be any day now, are you going to be able to sit back and be completely satisfied with the tales that you regale your children and grandchildren with? I think you’ll find the answer to that question the same as when someone asks if your career was the one you were happy with. Deep down, you’ll be filled with a feeling you are all too familiar with…..disappointment. Your recent actions, and especially what happens Sunday, are going to be what people remember you the most by. So go ahead and tell your family tales full of lies. Fill their heads full of fantasies about a great man who overcame everything to become a hero. Lying and disappointing people seem to be your modus operandi as of late. I guess you aren’t much of a man after all. Such a pity. I had higher hopes for you.


I know one question that must be bugging you is out of all the match types that there are in this wrestling world, why would I pick a Last Man Standing match to wrap up this little thing we’ve had going on all summer? Since we have already established that recent actions have decided you aren’t much of a man to begin with, it seemed only fitting to have a match where the objective is so simple that even YOU can grasp it. No pin falls, disqualifications, count outs or submissions. You just beat each other senseless until one doesn’t respond to the ten count. So simple that even your disgruntled little protégé can figure it out. You can call me crazy all you want for choosing this match, Justin. I’ve heard it ever since I told you in the ring what the Welcome Oblivion match would be. Hell, I’ve been told I’m not quite right in the head for the past two years here in EXODUS. But you want to know something? While you may claim I’m insane for wanting this type of match, Michelle Collins is just as crazy for agreeing to make the match official. Sunday you aren’t getting the woman who debuted two years ago. Sunday you aren’t getting the woman who blindly went along with the status quo two years ago. Sunday you are getting the warrior. Sunday you are getting the woman who is more than willing to lay everything on the line in the name of validation. Sunday you are going to come face to face with the woman who is out for blood, out for your blood. You took something from me, something that I may very well never get back. Sunday I’m not going to take something from you, rather your family. I’m going to take you and make you suffer so much that George RR Martin will write about it in his next novel. You aren’t ready for what awaits you on Sunday. No one is.


I know your probably sitting back in your easy chair, thinking you already have an inside track into my inner workings. Hell, you probably asked little Vivi to conjure up a spell or read tea leaves or whatever it is that she does. Do you want to know the exact number of people outside of my family that knows anything about me? Three. Do you want to know the number of people who knows everything about me and what makes me, well, me? One. So you have ZERO right to claim you know what is going on inside my head. The only thing that I allow people to see, what I project to those that tune in, is my desire to be better than everyone before me and everyone to come. I want nothing more than to become EXODUS World champion. But even I know that the chances of me getting another title shot are slim and none. I’m not an idiot. I know what the talk is. I know that my name isn’t in the same talks as Beowulf, Christum Furor or Fiona Collins. It never will be. I know that no one will be viewing me as a serious contender to the World title. Have I come to accept that? Somewhat. Do I like it? Hell no I don’t. But I’ll tell you what I do like. I quite like the fact that another person who won’t be on that list just so happens to be named Justin Brooks. Oh, what’s the matter Justin? Did that make you mad? Did that make you upset? I can’t imagine why. I mean, it’s not like I’m the only one who is thinking that. The only difference between me and them is I’m actually telling it to your face. It must be pretty hard to sit back and watch as countless others are pushed in line for the World title ahead of you. Don’t believe me? Allow me to remind you that Blake Jones has received a World title shot over you. The very same Blake Jones who I faced in my debut match, the very same former San Diego Bay champion, got a World title shot over you Justin. Not only did Blake get a World title shot, but he came damn close to dethroning Christum Furor. Though he has since fallen off of the wrestling radar, I bet if he came back to EXODUS tomorrow, he could easily take down Chris Strike. Not only do we live in a world where Blake Jones came this close to becoming World champion, we also live in a World where Adrien Cochrane is in the history books as a former EXODUS World champion. Let that sink in for a second. Adrien Cochrane is a former World champion and Blake Jones almost became champion. Let that sink into your mind and try to sleep tonight.


I do admire your tenacity and determination to get back the thing I beat you for. It must be nice to have aspirations of joining the exclusive fraternity that Johnny Cannon is the founding member of. You may rag on him and call him out for hightailing it out of San Diego, but once again you have things all wrong. While he was here, Johnny Cannon actually contributed to the company in a meaningful way. He had probably one of the most interesting and intriguing rivalries that anyone has ever seen. Brash? Yes. Egotistical? That goes without saying. But at least Johnny backs up what he says. Oh yeah, I almost forgot the most important difference between yourself and Johnny Cannon. Yep, you guessed it. Johnny Cannon is ALSO a former EXODUS World champion.


Don’t you just hate it when I’m right?


But as much as I call you out of the things no one has the courage to do, you and I are more alike than perhaps any one realizes. We both know what it is like to be passed over for chances at greater glory. We both know what it is like to scratch and claw our way to the top, only to be forgotten about. I know what it’s like to have a chance to get some form of revenge against a person who stole from you.


Yeah I’m looking at you Kevin Hardaway. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. When you’re done with…..whatever it is that is going on between you and Ruby, you and I are due for another go around.


My point is Justin, before you rush to judge me for things that I have done, you need to stop and think about what I have said. Our similarities are there. You just have to pull your head out of the clouds and take a long hard look in the mirror. When you look in the mirror, you won’t see your own reflection staring back at you. What you will see is a five foot eight blonde staring through you with the bluest of eyes. Don’t believe me? Try it after our match is done. That is, if you are awake enough to do it.


I want you to realize just what it is that awaits you on Sunday. You think you have walked into tough matches before? You aren’t set to walk into just any regular match. Hell, this isn’t even a real match. This is a damn war that YOU brought on yourself. You decided to stick your nose where it didn’t belong and now you must pay the piper. I’ve been on the front lines of war in this company before, Justin. I know exactly what I am getting into. I honestly cannot say the same for you. I told you from the beginning that I was more than willing to do any and everything in my power to keep this International title in my possession. If that includes doing what no one else has seemed to be able to do, slaying the monster, then you bet your ass that is what I am going to do. I’m not mara. I’m not Christian Kane. Thank GOD I’m not Lexy Chapel. I’m better than they are. I’m the one thing standing between you and the next level. Have fun being stuck in a constant state of mediocrity.


Allow me to give you the Cliffs Notes version of what will happen Saturday night into Sunday. You’ll be sitting in your hotel room, alone and with your thoughts. You’ll think about everything that brought you to this point. You’ll get in some training, thought it will prove to be pointless. Then you’ll sit back and you’ll probably Skype with your family back home. Your son will get all excited because he’s talking to Daddy. Your fiancée will be happy because she and your twins miss you. Then once all of the pleasantries are out of the way, she’ll look at you with a face showing nothing but concern. She’s naturally nervous that you won’t be the same as when you walked into the RIMAC. She’ll probably give you some long winded and sad story about how she wants you home in one piece and for you to be there for your children. You’ll sit back and think about what she’s said. Then you’ll smile at her and utter the three words you really don’t want to hear come out a man walking into a most certain bad situation….I got this. Do you want to know a funny thing about that phrase? The last two people who said “I got this” were met with a most terrible fate. Be prepared to join them on Sunday.


When that bell rings on Sunday, I want you to do me a favor Justin. Take a moment and look into my eyes. When you do, you are going to see every single thing you have ever done, especially towards me, staring right back at you. I’m no angel, nor have I ever claimed to be this pillar of what is right in this industry. What I am is a woman hell bent on proving to you and to everyone watching that this title means more to me than most people. I will defend it with my very life if I have to.


By any means necessary.


Auf Wiedersehen.