HWA Message Board: Diary Flashbacks

Los Angeles, CA – 3:26 a.m.

She shot upright in bed, to a light scream, drenched in sweat, kicking the sheets away from her as if the bed was on fire. It took a moment to catch her breath. There was a bottle of tequila on the nightstand, and she took a swig. She lit a cigarette in the dark, just the flicker of the lighter illuminated the space around her for a moment then she drew her legs up to her chest and buried her head into her knees. This wasn’t a dream, it was a memory, a flashback. A horrible remembrance of the night that changed her life forever.

Six Years Ago: Ciudad Victoria, Mexico – April, 28, 2019

A scream and horrible wailing awoke her. She rushed from the bed in the room she still shared with her 10-year-old brother into the living room. Her mother and father were on their knees inside the open front door clutching one another. She looked pass them to see la policia. Confusion and anxiety mixed within her and the sensation overwhelmed her. Noticing her presence in the room, her mother sprung up from the floor rushing over to grab her. She held her so tight she was losing her breath.

(Erica’s Mom): Mija…….mi Mija….mi Mija….mi Mija.

Her mother rocked her in her arms and wouldn’t let go. Her mom, her father seemed inconsolable, and she looked at the police with absolute dread.

(Erica): Qué está sucediendo?

(Policia): Lo sentimos, pero encontramos a sus hermanos esta mañana temprano. Parece que sus atacantes los robaron y les dispararon.

(Erica): Qué? ¿Dónde están?

The officers looked at one another.

(Policia): Lo sentimos, pero ellos no sobrevivieron.

Her mother screamed again, a sound summoned from gut. Her father now on his knees gripped the handle of the front door with one hand and his chest with the other. Her mother released her and ran to the door, her fists clenched and she pounded at the officer’s chest.

(Erica’s Mom): No! Estas mintiendo!

He stood there for a moment before taking her by the arms and gently pulling her away from him. Erica stepped forward. She was going to help her dad up. Going to wrap her arms around her mother but something was wrong. Her feet stopped moving, she felt some force pulling her down, her vision darkened and she fell to the floor.

Six Years Ago: Ciudad Victoria, Mexico – April, 15, 2019

I arrived early to warehouse for the so-called “talent meeting.” Raul Espinoza was the guy who oversaw everything in this “promotion” if you wanted to call it that. Always with a drink in his hand, a cigar, and usually some ##### hanging on his arm like she was being fed from him intravenously. The moment he saw me he waved me over to his office. I rolled my eyes and sighed. I hated him. Covid has ruined our lives. It’s been two weeks since Abuelita died, and he works us like dogs. He knows we don’t have a choice, there’s no work anywhere. I put my bag down and head over to see what this pendejo wants today. Last week we were supposed to do a spot with Cynthia out in the crowd but Angelica missed the que and we had to improvise. I saw her later backstage crying when she left. I tried talking to her but she just covered her face and ran to her car. I think he shorted her pay, the bastard.

I headed over to the office and Raul was behind his desk. His goons Felipe y Manuel were in the corner of the room as usual. They usually handled the money. Carrying it in briefcases with handcuffs on their wrist like there were U.S. secret service in some movie. Manual’s breath stank and that one bottom tooth that wasn’t capped in silver always stuck out over his lip making him look like an ugly bulldog. Felipe was actually a good looking guy, but he had a girlfriend. It still didn’t stop him from checking some of the girls out. He flirts with us all the time but his girl looks like she’d cut your tits off if you looked at him so nobody gives him the time of day.

(Raul Espinoza): Erica….chica…sit down.

He lifted a bottle of tequila in my direction and I shook my head. I don’t drink. I’m probably one of the few Mexicans who can’t even stand the smell of tequila. Even dad and my brothers only have the occasional beer and that tastes like piss. He poured himself a glass and stared at me.

(Raul Espinoza): It’s not working out. I’m going to have to make some….changes.

Panic instantly hit me…this was all we had, the only money. I needed this job…sketchy or not.

(Erica): No wait…you can’t do this….I need this. I’m the best woman here, you know that. I can do something…I’ll set up the ring…or what about food, I can go up the aisles and…

He put his hand up to stop my rambling. I looked from him to Felipe and Manuel as if they had any say in it.

(Raul Espinoza): I’m not talking about you.

He stands from the desk and sighs as if he’s carrying a heavy burden.

(Raul Espinoza): But your brothers….

He sucks his teeth, shaking his head…

(Raul Espinoza): They just don’t have “It” anymore. It’s the same old…Como se dice…. “Schtick”…people are bored of them.

My brothers were a huge draw. What the hell was he talking about? They’ve put asses in seats for years. They sell all their merchandise, and this scum takes 80% of the profits. I was so angry, tears began to well in my eyes and I slammed my fist on the desk. I think I startled him because he jerked as he looked at me.

(Erica): You can’t do that to us. They’ve worked their asses off, before you were even here.

(Raul Espinoza): This comes from the higher up, I’m sorry chica.

I stood, the chair behind me hitting the floor as I rose.

(Erica): Don’t call me “Chica!” Who’s higher up then…let me speak to them. Let me talk to your boss then.

He laughs out loud and looks at Felipe and Manuel who laugh with him.

(Raul Espinoza): Escuchaste esto? My boss? She wants to talk to mi hefe?

He walks towards me, grinning from ear to ear like my family was some sort of joke.

(Raul Espinoza): You don’t talk to the boss, you just follow orders. Look, mayyyybe…. I’ll get them another week, but…

I cut him off. I wasn’t about to back down on this. If they lost this, it would ruin them. They don’t know I’m doing this and they’d be desperate. We’re already desperate but still, even more so.

(Erica): I won’t let you do this to them. You get rid of them then I’ll go too. You won’t have anyone who can wrestle worth a shit.

He pursed his lips together into a downward frown as he nodded, pacing in front of me thinking it over. I knew that would rattle him. He can’t afford to lose me.

(Raul Espinoza): You want out…there’s the door. This isn’t about wrestling, it’s about entertainment. I can get any puta off the street and throw her in there.

Shit…he called my bluff. What am I supposed to do now? I hate him, that smug look. He’s just some middleman scum. I hate this. I hate being poor. I hate us always working, working, working and never getting anywhere. There’s always someone holding us back, holding us down. I can’t let him see me cry, but I can’t help it.

(Raul Espinoza): Awww, senorita…por favor…you break my heart.

He comes close and puts his hand on my shoulder sitting me back down in the chair Felipe has up righted.

(Raul Espinoza): There may be a way.

(Erica): You can’t just throw us out, this is all we have. I’ll do anything.

(Raul Espinoza): Si, si senorita…yo se…I understand.

He walks around the chair now, putting his hands on my shoulder. He takes my hand in his, and looks at me with pity.

(Raul Espinoza): I can help you. Pero primero…..

He guides my hand to his hardened crotch and I jerk my hand away and slap him hard across the face. I look at Felipe and Manuel who are just grinning at me nodding. They’re sick. Raul shrugs his shoulders and points to the door.

(Raul Espinoza): Go…get the fuk out then. I’m done talking to you. You and your pinche brothers are done.

He’s a pathetic, excuse of a man. I’m so angry I could spit.

(Erica): To hell with you, to hell with this whole place. See how long you last when then police find out.

I turn to the door, and the smiles and grins on Felipe and Manuel’s faces are gone as they stand and block it. I tell them to “move” but they don’t. Instead, they look at Raul awaiting instructions like obedient dogs. He walks to me slowly, chuckling to himself as he nods.

(Raul Espinoza): Felipe…am I a civil man?

(Felipe): Si hefe!

(Raul Espinoza): Manuel, amigo…did I not make a fair offer?

(Manuel): Si, hefe!

(Raul Espinoza): Then I’m confused…why is this little bitch trying to threaten me? Me?

I don’t see it coming. He backhands me and I nearly fly across the room to the floor. I see stars and can’t catch my breath as he grabs me up by the hair and I yelp as he yanks me to my feet and turns me into him. I hear a “click-clack” noise and see the blade of a Butterfly Knife just as he pulls it to my throat.

(Raul Espinoza): Felipe says I’m a civil man, and Manuel…you heard him…I’m very fair. Do you think I’m fair chica?

I don’t know what to do, what to say. I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life. He’s gripped my hair so tight and I don’t want to move or his knife could cut my throat. I speak as best and as clearly as I can but my voice cracks badly as tears stream my face.

(Erica): Yes!

(Raul Espinoza): No, I don’t think so. I think you are all lying to me. If I were a civil man, a fair man, you wouldn’t have turned down my offer.

(Erica): I’m sorry….I…..I didn’t understand.

(Raul Espinoza): Oh, so you understand now?

I nod. What else could I do? Tears streamed by face so bad it was like I was looking at the room through a waterfall. He spins me around and leans against the desk. Picks up his cigar and puts it in his mouth lighting it, and grabs his glass for another sip and without looking at me, he says…

(Raul Espinoza): Show me!

He’s filth. He’s a disgusting human being. I look back at Felipe and Manuel still blocking the door, stupid smirks on their faces. Raul looked at me now, his eyes uncaring as he put his hands on the desk on either side of him. I know what he wants. I don’t know that I can do it. I prayed to God for a miracle, a bolt of lighting to strike them all dead, a police raid, someone to knock on the door…anything, but there was nothing. My hand quivered as I reached up to his pants and undid his belt buckle. He just stared down at me still with that blank expression as I unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his knees. He wore boxers and the release of his pants gave his dick room to expand and point upward in them. This can’t be happening to me, it just can’t.

I can hear my grandmother fighting to breathe from the bedroom at home after the hospital sent us away. I can hear mi madre moan every night she gets home trying to take her shoes off her badly swollen feet. I can hear mi padre, whispering in the kitchen to his amigo Luis about not telling their wives they were let go at the construction site. I can hear Pedro and Jesus arguing with this piece of shit Raul about shorting their pay again. Why do we always struggle? Why? I would walk away if it were just me. I would survive somehow, but mi familia…I can’t let them suffer. I won’t, I’d do anything…even….even this. I pulled his dick out through the hole in the front of his boxers and it stared at me. That little hole at the tip like an eye slit peering into my soul. I take it in my mouth and begin to suck on it. His days funk is on him, salty and sweaty.

(Raul Espinoza): Aye, si…….si!

He grabs my hair tight shoving my face forward into him. It makes me gag. I try breathing through my nose but I can’t keep up. After a few moments I yank my head back hard, freeing myself from him. Spit drips from my mouth as I gag and try to catch my breath. He laughs, looking over at Felipe and Manual that just laugh with him at me. Then his laugh is gone and he looks back at me like I’m trash.

(Raul Espinoza): You’re not finished…get back to it.

I look up at him, the vile, disgusting, creature of a man. Anger fills me. If my brothers knew, they’d pulverize him. Perhaps I should have never kept this secret from them, but my family would have never allowed me to wrestle and it’s helped me do my part. But, he has no right to humiliate me this way. We don’t have much, next to nothing, but we have our pride. El pastor a la Iglesia says that through God we find a way. We’ve always found a way…I don’t need this bastard. I get to my feet and look at him.

(Erica): No!

I can’t read the expression on his face.

(Erica): We wrestle for a few pesos because you skim everybody’s wages and now this?

My voice is rising, I feel fire burn inside from my stomach out with each word hurling outward at him like a solar flare.

(Erica): You’re just a pathetic crook, taking advantage of all of us because of stupid Covid and the jobs. We’ll find something, we don’t need you. If the police don’t punish you, God will!

He throws his hands up apologetically, then pulls his pants up.

(Raul Espinoza): Lo siento….lo siento chica. It’s my mistake. I should never have approached you like this.

He drops his head and sighs heavily.

(Raul Espinoza): I always do this….I feel so stupid! Por favor…let’s start over.

The next thing I know I’m on the floor again. He’s kicked me so hard in the stomach there isn’t an ounce of air in me. My mouth hangs open but nothing escapes. He kicks me again in the ribs and I flip over from my knees. I think he broke something.

(Raul Espinoza): I should never have “asked” you. I should have “told” you what you’re going to do! Let me tell you how things are run here in Victoria, in all of Mexico. It’s not God that punishes…we do! We run these cities, these streets, from the boats to the brothels, and you…

He stomps on the back of my head and I nearly black out. The hard heel of his cowboy boots feel like they’ve crushed my skull.

(Raul Espinoza): It’s time you realize how things work. Tus hermanos, they owe us money…con interest. I’m not skimming, I’m taking what belongs to us. We put food on your table. We pay your rent. But they were greedy and asked for more, para tu abeula inferma. So….we give them more. To help you, to help your family.

I hear the click-clack again of his butterfly knife. He grabs my shirt and slices it from the back along with my bra. My hand is already across my chest holding my breast from still trying to breathe and in such terrible pain.

(Raul Espinoza): You ungrateful bitch!

He yanks me up by the hair and hurls me across the room into a bookcase. Binders, folders and papers and the bookcase itself fall over me as I hit the floor. Seconds later Manual has lifted it off me and shoved it aside. I’m bleeding…I don’t know from where but it’s trickling onto the ground. I’m in so much pain I can’t stand it, I feel dizzy and nauseous.

(Raul Espinoza): So now…you’re going to do what I tell you to do. Tus hermanos will compete just as they always do, but they have to take a little pay cut. And you…..you’ll wrestle Sabado y Domingo now. Don’t worry, it will still be our little secret.

He grabs my hair again and pulls me up. I can barely stand, my legs give way beneath me as he shoves me into his desk. I go face first into it, arms out in front of me attempting to brace myself as the computer monitor and keyboard go flying off.

(Raul Espinoza): And just so there is no confusion…. If you don’t. You’re family will be on the streets. You won’t find jobs for a 500 miles. Because like I told you, we’re in charge.

He leans forward from behind me into my ear.

(Raul Espinoza): Even of la policia!

He walks around the desk sitting back in his chair as I still hang over it. He lights his cigar again and takes a puff, nodding to the back of the room at Manuel and Felipe. Each one comes forward and grabs my arms and pins me to the desk. He looks at me again and repeats his earlier question.

(Raul Espinoza): So you understand now?

I don’t have the words to reply, only grunts and squeals of pain and heartache escape my mouth. It’s all I can do to simply nod in response.

(Raul Espinoza): Show me!

He comes from behind the desk, the click-clack of the knife rings out again and he jabs it down in front of my face into the desk as he goes behind me. They pull my pants down and I hear him unzip his. He thrusts himself inside me as hard as he can and begins ramming into me like he’s trying to strike oil. They press my face into the desk as he does his business and he suddenly punches me in the back of the head.

(Raul Espinoza): Aren’t you going to say “Thank You!”

I try, I do try to say it…if it would make him stop I’d say anything. I can’t form words and they laugh at me. He grunts, gripping my waist from behind as he thrusts a few more times. Soon, I feel his body slump over me from behind and he pulls out. I thank God he’s finished, but I don’t think my prayers are enough as Felipe flips me over onto the desk. I think I manage to say “No” in a weak desperate plea. He unzips his pants and begins fuking me on the desk. I go limp, my body doesn’t feel like my body. Manuel walks to the side pulling his dick out and yanks my head forward gripping my throat with his hand forcing my mouth open and shoves himself inside. He skull fuks me as I gag and choke but keeps his grip on my throat so I can’t pull away. I just want to die, let them kill me. I try to escape somewhere in my mind, but I have no good place to go.

My tits lob up and down as Felipe rams himself inside me and Raul teases my nipples with his butterfly knife. It stings and I think he’s drawn blood. My groin hurts badly, my entire body is in pain. Felipe cums inside me and moments later Manual bursts his load in my mouth. It’s like trying to swallow a cup of syrup and he makes certain I swallow hands still on my throat and punches me in the stomach to force the reaction. Raul grabs me from behind by the hair again and begins to drag me across the floor. Felipe opens the office door and he flings me out of it.

(Raul Espinoza): See you Saturday!

He slams the door shut leaving me there on the floor of the warehouse in ruin. I curl up and lay there for I don’t know how long before I find the strength to get to my feet, my clothes are a mess, but no more than I am. I understand. I understand now how things work now. I understand the rumors of the cartel controlling things is true, but all this time I didn’t know I, and my brothers were working for them. What choice do we have? I pull myself together. No one will ever know about this. They can’t.

Los Angeles, CA – 3:28 a.m.

She looked over at the nightstand again, her butterfly knife sitting there parts of it catching bits of light in the darkened room. She took another drag of her cigarette and leaned back, the sweat on her now cold. She wasn’t getting back to sleep, not after that. She flipped the tv on and watched news of ICE raids all over LA, they talk about gas prices, summer movies and then the sports reporter came on about the Dodgers and…

(News Reporter): Hardcore Wrestling Alliance Star, Sean Parker has left a Dallas hospital where he had been receiving treatment this past week for injuries suffered at their Fatality ppv one week ago. In a statement by organization officials, they said “We thank the fans for their well wishes and continued support. Sean is still recovering, and the family asks for privacy at this time.”

Erica smiles! She thought that Sean didn’t get half of what he deserved, him or Michelle. Whether they admit it or not there is always someone taking advantage of you, using you, playing you. It’s bad enough when they do admit it, but it’s even worse when they pretend to be you’re friend and lie to your face. She was never going to be one of them, not again. She felt stupid to still have had any bit of hope to reconcile, felt pathetic that she tried so hard, but supposed that was Hans’ influence on her. She might not know everything Sean did to Azami, but she knew enough. She knew she suffered in silence and alone for years much like she had. Azami had every right to do what she did….and so did she. Her suspension or restraining order or whatever they wanted to call it was up in a few days and she’d be getting ready for Havoc. They weren’t going to keep her out this week, and there was something she wanted to say to Hans face to face. She got out of bed and decided to hit the gym as the scene fades to black.

To be continued...