Post by Deleted on Aug 5, 2021 0:59:45 GMT -7
BEING A GROWN UP
A HOUSE OF DIX STORY PIECE
(OFF CAMERA)
JULY 30TH 2021
8:34 PM
SUNNYBANK TRAILER PARK, ROME, GEORGIA
*beep beep*
Wendy House’s cellphone went off once again. The fifth time? The sixth? She should probably have just switched it off... but for once, the incessant beeping calmed her somewhat. Considering the circumstances, it should have probably filled her with dread. After all, she’d just straight up not shown up for work.
At the Sunnybank Trailer Park, where House always hitched up for shows at in Rome, she was eight, maybe nine miles from the Rebel Star Arena. But looking at her own face in the mirror (or as she was currently in a spoon) the calloused scars still lingering from the actions of a month prior, Wendy House didn’t want to be seen in public. She’d spent the last few weeks being basically radio silent to all but Tracy, and even her talks with her were becoming more and more sporadic.
*beep beep*
Wendy picked up the phone and looked at the incoming call.
“TWACY DIX”
Wendy composed herself for a couple of seconds, before tapping the icon to pick up.
“Hello.”
The sound on the other end was crackled due to a large crowd noise, clearly Tracy was still at the arena.
“WENDS!!! Oh thank God. Where the hell are you? I was so worried, I thought something terrible had happened...”
“Me’s spilt juice on me’s skirt. Not sure if dat constitutes tewwible or not.”
“Wends?”
“Mm-hm.”
“You... you know you were supposed to wrestle a match against Veronica Taylor tonight, right? I just got word in that they’ve had to cancel it....”
“Mm-hm.”
“Because you’re not here.”
“Mm-hm.”
An audible sigh comes from the other end of the phone.
“Where are you, Wendy?”
Wendy didn’t respond for a few seconds, looking at herself in the spoon again. She sighed too, before relenting.
“Sunnybank.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Er... okay. Bye bye. Hold tight.”
The phone clicked off. Wendy momentarily wondered if she could hitch up her trailer and be on the road before her friend arrived. Sadly, that was unlikely. On this occasion, she’d probably have to face the music.
*FORTY MINUTES LATER*
Tracy Dixon knocked on the door of Wendy’s trailer. There was a short silence before the door opened, and there stood her friend... at least, she thought it was. She had a paper bag over her head, so it was impossible to see her face, her hair or... any distinguishing features really.
“Wendy?”
“Well who you’s fink it is, da Cookie Monster?”
Dixon shakes her head.
“Nice er... bag?”
The bag had two eyeholes in it, for the purpose of Wendy being able to see.
“Fanks. No-one needs to see House’s uggo face.”
Tracy sighed. That statement alone kinda confirmed her fears as to why Wendy hadn’t shown up. She took her by the hand, leading her down the steps to the outside table she had set up.
“No-one thinks you’re uggo.”
“Pwetty Shitty Committee does.”
“....No-one IMPORTANT thinks you’re uggo.”
House’s head drooped a little, as though she was looking at the floor, though she likely couldn’t see it because of the bag. Either way, she said nothing. Tracy sighed, sitting opposite her, and taking her hand once again.
“Wends... take the bag off, please.”
Silence for a few moments.
“No.”
“Wends....”
“Nope. Can’t make me.... AAH!”
Turns out Tracy could make her, as she reached across and yanked the bag off House’s head.
“No fair, me’s had limited pewiphewal visions...”
Wendy said, before covering her face with her hands. Tracy spoke again, still with a hint of kindness and sympathy, but a little firmer this time.
“WENDY. Let me see.”
Wendy opened her fingers a little, peering through the gaps at her friend. Slowly, and reluctantly, she moved her hands down to the table. Tracy nodded.
“It’s definitely healing up. You’ll probably look normal in a week or so.”
Wendy grumbles.
“House never looks normal. House always looks stupid.”
*BAM*
Dixon’s fist hit the table, causing Wendy to jump a little bit.
“Don’t do that. You’re gonna let those bitches crush you like this? You’re acting like a child.”
“ME’S IS A CHILD!”
Tracy groaned, closing her eyes and taking a breath. Wendy looked at herself in the spoon again.
“Times like dis, me’s wish Kawa was here. She’d look after House. Me’s.... me’s misses her.”
“Kara...?” Tracy had to think about this for a second. “Aren’t... you Kara?”
“Kawa’s dead. At least me finks she is. It’s been a few years. She left House all alone. So House can be a big girl. But House isn’t a big girl. House is a stupid kid...”
Tracy listened to this, nodding along.
“Wends... can I see your driver’s licence?”
“Um... kay.”
House found her purse and rummaged through it, before handing the laminated card to Tracy. Tracy looked at it, before turning it to show Wendy.
“Wendy... who is that a picture of?”
House looked at the picture. Straight immaculate hair. No weird makeup or goofy expressions.
“Dat’s Kawa.”
“And the name on the licence?”
House read it.
“Kawa Louise Hawwington.”
Tracy smiled.
“Wendy, that’s YOU.”
“No, it’s Kawa.”
“DAMMIT WENDY, YOU ARE KARA!!!”
The sudden shout from Dixon kinda caught House on the hop. She pouted.
“...Pwove it.”
“Sure. You know Mr. Reynolds?”
House nods.
“Yes. He’s me’s financial advisor.”
“What does he call you when you talk?”
House went quiet for a few moments.
“...Ms. Harrington?”
“Uh-huh. And do you talk to him the same way you talk to me?”
House thought about this for a good twenty seconds. Something in her eyes gave Tracy a sense she was getting through to her friend.
“Of course not. I’m hardly gonna be talking about “me’s” and “weally’s”... it’s a business dealing. You kinda have to be professional.
As she said this, Tracy noticed that Wendy’s vocal pattern had completely changed. She sounded... normal. Canadian.
“It’s almost like sometimes, you can’t get away with being a child, and we have to be a grown up, isn’t it Wend... KARA?”
Poor Wendy seemed thoroughly confused, bemused and possibly quite stressed. It was as though her own knowledge and understanding of her own self was being ripped to pieces right before her eyes.
“I told you. Kara’s dead.”
“So who am I speaking to right now then?”
A pause.
“House.”
“House doesn’t speak like that.”
Tracy grins.
“The woman I’m speaking to is the woman the financial advisor sees. The woman the clerk in the store sees. You’ve kept her in the background, maybe you didn’t even realize she was there because you wanted to be House and do House things... but when you need that public show of professionalism, when you need to be the adult, she has always been there. I know you’ve been through many traumas, and you’ve basically compartmentalized your adult self from your child self... but that doesn’t change the fact that both of those people are equally YOU. Kara always seemed separate to House because that’s how House made sense of it. But you ARE Kara Louise Harrington. You always have been.”
Both women went quiet for a good minute or so, before Wendy looked up to Tracy.
“So what does all this actually mean?”
“You no-showed tonight. You hid away. You were scared. Clearly this issue with the Pretty Committee, their physical and mental scarring of you... it’s too much for House to deal with. Wendy can’t cope.”
Her friend stood up, glancing into the spoon one more time, before nodding.
“I need to sleep. Reflect. Find myself. I trust you can make it to your hotel okay?”
Tracy seemed taken aback by this sudden change of events, but considering the way her friend was showing up, she felt it was probably a positive development.
“Sure. I’ll text you tomorrow, yeah?”
The blue-haired maverick walked to her trailer steps, opening the door.
“Yeah. Goodnight, Tracy. And thank you.”
She walked inside, closing the door, leaving Tracy with a slight smile.
“Goodnight... Kara.”
*THE NEXT DAY*
Having showered up, cleansed her face of all her crazed makeup, she went about straightening her hair. She wasn’t sure about the blue, it was a little anime schoolgirl, but that was something to worry about later. She ignored the multitude of skirts and childish clothing in her closet, picking out a gray wifebeater and black cargo pants. She didn’t fill them out as well as she used to, but oh well.
*beep beep*
She got a text message. Checking it, it was from Tracy.
“Fury Road Reborn 2 is in New Orleans. We’re not on the card, but you wanna go?”
She grinned, looking down at her phone. And typing a reply.
“I’ll meet you there. I got a plan to trap those pretty little flies in my web - KH”
An hour later, the trailer was all hitched up. She jumped in the driver’s seat of her truck, checking herself in the rear view mirror. What she saw looking back at her was not a child, an ugly little child, but a woman... strong, confident, and despite the lingering scars... beautiful.
Fiddling in her CD collection in the glove compartment, she put one into the changer, and turned the ignition. And as Arch Enemy’s “I Will Live Again” blared from the speakers... she felt... something. Was it nostalgia? Or the promise of something new? Could the two be one and the same?
The chorus was the last thing the Sunnybank trailer park heard as the truck pulled her trailer home onto the open road.
“I will live again, you’ll see
Tomorrow’s not scaring me
Far away from yesterday
Just take this pain away.”
She was Kara Harrington... and she was heading to New Orleans to kick somebody’s ass!
A HOUSE OF DIX STORY PIECE
(OFF CAMERA)
JULY 30TH 2021
8:34 PM
SUNNYBANK TRAILER PARK, ROME, GEORGIA
*beep beep*
Wendy House’s cellphone went off once again. The fifth time? The sixth? She should probably have just switched it off... but for once, the incessant beeping calmed her somewhat. Considering the circumstances, it should have probably filled her with dread. After all, she’d just straight up not shown up for work.
At the Sunnybank Trailer Park, where House always hitched up for shows at in Rome, she was eight, maybe nine miles from the Rebel Star Arena. But looking at her own face in the mirror (or as she was currently in a spoon) the calloused scars still lingering from the actions of a month prior, Wendy House didn’t want to be seen in public. She’d spent the last few weeks being basically radio silent to all but Tracy, and even her talks with her were becoming more and more sporadic.
*beep beep*
Wendy picked up the phone and looked at the incoming call.
“TWACY DIX”
Wendy composed herself for a couple of seconds, before tapping the icon to pick up.
“Hello.”
The sound on the other end was crackled due to a large crowd noise, clearly Tracy was still at the arena.
“WENDS!!! Oh thank God. Where the hell are you? I was so worried, I thought something terrible had happened...”
“Me’s spilt juice on me’s skirt. Not sure if dat constitutes tewwible or not.”
“Wends?”
“Mm-hm.”
“You... you know you were supposed to wrestle a match against Veronica Taylor tonight, right? I just got word in that they’ve had to cancel it....”
“Mm-hm.”
“Because you’re not here.”
“Mm-hm.”
An audible sigh comes from the other end of the phone.
“Where are you, Wendy?”
Wendy didn’t respond for a few seconds, looking at herself in the spoon again. She sighed too, before relenting.
“Sunnybank.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Er... okay. Bye bye. Hold tight.”
The phone clicked off. Wendy momentarily wondered if she could hitch up her trailer and be on the road before her friend arrived. Sadly, that was unlikely. On this occasion, she’d probably have to face the music.
*FORTY MINUTES LATER*
Tracy Dixon knocked on the door of Wendy’s trailer. There was a short silence before the door opened, and there stood her friend... at least, she thought it was. She had a paper bag over her head, so it was impossible to see her face, her hair or... any distinguishing features really.
“Wendy?”
“Well who you’s fink it is, da Cookie Monster?”
Dixon shakes her head.
“Nice er... bag?”
The bag had two eyeholes in it, for the purpose of Wendy being able to see.
“Fanks. No-one needs to see House’s uggo face.”
Tracy sighed. That statement alone kinda confirmed her fears as to why Wendy hadn’t shown up. She took her by the hand, leading her down the steps to the outside table she had set up.
“No-one thinks you’re uggo.”
“Pwetty Shitty Committee does.”
“....No-one IMPORTANT thinks you’re uggo.”
House’s head drooped a little, as though she was looking at the floor, though she likely couldn’t see it because of the bag. Either way, she said nothing. Tracy sighed, sitting opposite her, and taking her hand once again.
“Wends... take the bag off, please.”
Silence for a few moments.
“No.”
“Wends....”
“Nope. Can’t make me.... AAH!”
Turns out Tracy could make her, as she reached across and yanked the bag off House’s head.
“No fair, me’s had limited pewiphewal visions...”
Wendy said, before covering her face with her hands. Tracy spoke again, still with a hint of kindness and sympathy, but a little firmer this time.
“WENDY. Let me see.”
Wendy opened her fingers a little, peering through the gaps at her friend. Slowly, and reluctantly, she moved her hands down to the table. Tracy nodded.
“It’s definitely healing up. You’ll probably look normal in a week or so.”
Wendy grumbles.
“House never looks normal. House always looks stupid.”
*BAM*
Dixon’s fist hit the table, causing Wendy to jump a little bit.
“Don’t do that. You’re gonna let those bitches crush you like this? You’re acting like a child.”
“ME’S IS A CHILD!”
Tracy groaned, closing her eyes and taking a breath. Wendy looked at herself in the spoon again.
“Times like dis, me’s wish Kawa was here. She’d look after House. Me’s.... me’s misses her.”
“Kara...?” Tracy had to think about this for a second. “Aren’t... you Kara?”
“Kawa’s dead. At least me finks she is. It’s been a few years. She left House all alone. So House can be a big girl. But House isn’t a big girl. House is a stupid kid...”
Tracy listened to this, nodding along.
“Wends... can I see your driver’s licence?”
“Um... kay.”
House found her purse and rummaged through it, before handing the laminated card to Tracy. Tracy looked at it, before turning it to show Wendy.
“Wendy... who is that a picture of?”
House looked at the picture. Straight immaculate hair. No weird makeup or goofy expressions.
“Dat’s Kawa.”
“And the name on the licence?”
House read it.
“Kawa Louise Hawwington.”
Tracy smiled.
“Wendy, that’s YOU.”
“No, it’s Kawa.”
“DAMMIT WENDY, YOU ARE KARA!!!”
The sudden shout from Dixon kinda caught House on the hop. She pouted.
“...Pwove it.”
“Sure. You know Mr. Reynolds?”
House nods.
“Yes. He’s me’s financial advisor.”
“What does he call you when you talk?”
House went quiet for a few moments.
“...Ms. Harrington?”
“Uh-huh. And do you talk to him the same way you talk to me?”
House thought about this for a good twenty seconds. Something in her eyes gave Tracy a sense she was getting through to her friend.
“Of course not. I’m hardly gonna be talking about “me’s” and “weally’s”... it’s a business dealing. You kinda have to be professional.
As she said this, Tracy noticed that Wendy’s vocal pattern had completely changed. She sounded... normal. Canadian.
“It’s almost like sometimes, you can’t get away with being a child, and we have to be a grown up, isn’t it Wend... KARA?”
Poor Wendy seemed thoroughly confused, bemused and possibly quite stressed. It was as though her own knowledge and understanding of her own self was being ripped to pieces right before her eyes.
“I told you. Kara’s dead.”
“So who am I speaking to right now then?”
A pause.
“House.”
“House doesn’t speak like that.”
Tracy grins.
“The woman I’m speaking to is the woman the financial advisor sees. The woman the clerk in the store sees. You’ve kept her in the background, maybe you didn’t even realize she was there because you wanted to be House and do House things... but when you need that public show of professionalism, when you need to be the adult, she has always been there. I know you’ve been through many traumas, and you’ve basically compartmentalized your adult self from your child self... but that doesn’t change the fact that both of those people are equally YOU. Kara always seemed separate to House because that’s how House made sense of it. But you ARE Kara Louise Harrington. You always have been.”
Both women went quiet for a good minute or so, before Wendy looked up to Tracy.
“So what does all this actually mean?”
“You no-showed tonight. You hid away. You were scared. Clearly this issue with the Pretty Committee, their physical and mental scarring of you... it’s too much for House to deal with. Wendy can’t cope.”
Her friend stood up, glancing into the spoon one more time, before nodding.
“I need to sleep. Reflect. Find myself. I trust you can make it to your hotel okay?”
Tracy seemed taken aback by this sudden change of events, but considering the way her friend was showing up, she felt it was probably a positive development.
“Sure. I’ll text you tomorrow, yeah?”
The blue-haired maverick walked to her trailer steps, opening the door.
“Yeah. Goodnight, Tracy. And thank you.”
She walked inside, closing the door, leaving Tracy with a slight smile.
“Goodnight... Kara.”
*THE NEXT DAY*
Having showered up, cleansed her face of all her crazed makeup, she went about straightening her hair. She wasn’t sure about the blue, it was a little anime schoolgirl, but that was something to worry about later. She ignored the multitude of skirts and childish clothing in her closet, picking out a gray wifebeater and black cargo pants. She didn’t fill them out as well as she used to, but oh well.
*beep beep*
She got a text message. Checking it, it was from Tracy.
“Fury Road Reborn 2 is in New Orleans. We’re not on the card, but you wanna go?”
She grinned, looking down at her phone. And typing a reply.
“I’ll meet you there. I got a plan to trap those pretty little flies in my web - KH”
An hour later, the trailer was all hitched up. She jumped in the driver’s seat of her truck, checking herself in the rear view mirror. What she saw looking back at her was not a child, an ugly little child, but a woman... strong, confident, and despite the lingering scars... beautiful.
Fiddling in her CD collection in the glove compartment, she put one into the changer, and turned the ignition. And as Arch Enemy’s “I Will Live Again” blared from the speakers... she felt... something. Was it nostalgia? Or the promise of something new? Could the two be one and the same?
The chorus was the last thing the Sunnybank trailer park heard as the truck pulled her trailer home onto the open road.
“I will live again, you’ll see
Tomorrow’s not scaring me
Far away from yesterday
Just take this pain away.”
She was Kara Harrington... and she was heading to New Orleans to kick somebody’s ass!