3.0

[ R O C K Y ]

There wasn't much of a fight if I'm honest; the wizard guy was sprawled out on the floor of the ring practically begging for death- or anything to get him away from the punishing fists of the python within the first two rounds. This so-called underground fighting ring turned out to be more of a comedy club.

They were undoubtedly both talented fighters, but they were on two completely different levels; the python was no man; he was all but a monster created by Satan himself. But the Wizard was only a man, a huge man I'd give him that. But nothing compared to the man that was Python. And it was a stupid and dangerous move even to attempt to get into the ring with him.

The Uber on the way home was less than uneventful, just a bunch of me surfing through my phone, ignoring the driver's useless flirting. I cringed at the sight of myself in the bathroom mirror before beginning the process of scrubbing off the makeup that had seemed to move around my face as I cried throughout the day. A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and my cheeks flushed a deep red as I realized I'd talked to that man like this, I'd been to the bar like this, I went to an underground fight club looking like someone died... oh wait, someone did.

I stood in the shower till the water ran cold and even then I stood there for a little longer, enjoying the look of my skin tinging blue and goosebumps rising on my skin. It gave a calm feeling of numbness as the cold feeling rushed over my body, like a cryogenic freeze, it felt like I was frozen in time, blissfully unaware of the world around me.

I laid in bed for nearly two hours before falling asleep, only to wake up at three AM and be able to fall asleep at all after that. I stayed up for the rest of the night on my phone, the occasional tear slipping down my cheek and onto the pillow under my head as I surfed through pictures of my grandfather and I. I knew I needed to stop, this couldn't be healthy for me, but like a siren's song the loving memories of the past pulled me in only to drown me in my own sadness. I bring myself to consider these happy memories anymore, a dark shadow was now casted over them as I thought about my grandfather being lowered into the ground.

I resented myself for not spending more time with him, because as a twenty three year old fresh out of college sometimes you forget to stop and look at all the great things in front of you, I just kept racing, and racing towards the gleaming light at the end of the tunnel, and when the day finally came that Gramps called to tell me to come to the hospital, it was to late. He was dying, and he didn't tell me. He shouldn't have had to tell me, I should have known. Cancer isn't subtle.

I held the cool metal to my chest as I hugged him one last time, people died everyday, people died every hour, every minute, every second. In the grand scheme of things Gramps wasn't special, neither was the mean old lady in the room next to him dying of ovarian cancer, neither was the little boy with Leukemia, but they were all special to someone, the little boy's older sister sat by his bed every night and read him a bedtime story, and when she was sure he was asleep, she would let the tears run, she would stroke his hair as if it were the last time. The night gramps had died I saw her, her makeup ruined, and her face covered in red blotches from crying. She mercilessly held onto the stuffed bear her brother used had to keep him safe while in the hospital, the little boy had died, but no one cared. Because he wasn't special to them, but his sister cared, he was special to her.

When Gramps died, no one cared, the doctors still had their job, the nurses still had paperwork to do, it was nothing new, nothing special. But Gramps was to me. He was the man that saved me from years of abuse and he taught me to be proud of myself. He was my mother, my father, and my gramps. He spent his life doing what his daughter and son-in-law couldn't. He spent years in court fighting for me, and never giving up. I knew when I was sad, when I was angry, he knew when I was at my best, and at my worst. And I couldn't even tell when he was dying.

I went to sleep that night feeling like my world had been torn down the middle and I was desperately holding to together, because the glue that held my life together was gone, and I let him do it, alone.