Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2016 17:58:37 GMT
OFF-CAMERA
I can never find Nana's grave right away.
Every time I come here, I have to look for it; for the little plot of land with a little wooden cross stuck on it, tucked away between two large headstones. Nana always said she didn't want a big, flashy headstone when she died - just a little acre of land to lay down her weary bones in. So when she passed on, I respected her wishes; the only thing marking her grave site is my little cross, her name and dates whitewashed across it:
EMILY O'RYAN 1924-2015
It is in front of this cross that I now place a small bunch of flowers. Lilacs – Nana's favorite. Then, reaching into my backpack, I take out something that's almost offensively out of place in the quiet stillness of this small cemetery: the Pollomania Supremo Championship. Its chromed plate, the name of my alter ego etched across it in stencil, glints faintly in the April sun as I place it at the foot of the grave.
'Look, Nana', I whisper. 'I'm a Champion again.'
That was all I had meant to do; just come up here, show her my belt, and make her proud. No need to tell her how I got it. No need to tell her what I've been doing for the past year.
And yet, somehow, it all comes pouring out anyway.
'I haven't been following your advice, Nana. I haven't been myself. Not for a long while. Not since you left me. I could tell you I wasn't doing you proud, that I wanted a fresh start, a second chance...but the truth is, I ran. I ran from who I was. I went some place where nobody knew me, and lived a lie. I'm still living a lie.'
I tap the front of the Pollomania Supremo Championship.
'When I won this belt, I wasn't being myself. I wasn't being your little Jaybird. When I go out and defend it next week, I'm not going to be myself, either. And I could stand here and make excuses for why I did it...but you wouldn't have wanted that. You would have told me to face the truth. And the truth is, I wasn't thinking straight. I was being selfish. I couldn't see that running from my life meant leaving you behind as well. I never meant to do that. And I'm sorry.'
I tap the front of the Pollomania Supremo Championship.
'When I won this belt, I wasn't being myself. I wasn't being your little Jaybird. When I go out and defend it next week, I'm not going to be myself, either. And I could stand here and make excuses for why I did it...but you wouldn't have wanted that. You would have told me to face the truth. And the truth is, I wasn't thinking straight. I was being selfish. I couldn't see that running from my life meant leaving you behind as well. I never meant to do that. And I'm sorry.'
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, the lump forming in my throat. I manage to hold it together long enough to add:
'I can't expect you to be proud of me. I'm not proud of myself. I only hope you can forgive me. I only hope you know I love you. I will always love you. No matter what.'
I blow the grave a kiss, put my belt back in my bag, and make my way back to the car.
I barely make it inside before the tears start gushing out.
Final Word Count: 497