Disclaimer: I do not own any of the WWE wrestlers listed in this story, they are owned by the WWE and the Chairman Vincent Kennedy McMahon. Like so many others, I have no money to be sued so any likeness to real life is completely coincidental.
Summary: A well known superstar's daughter deals with being almost famous, with tragic consequences.
Genre: Angst and Drama
A/N: This is the first try at something this dark, but due to family influences I have decided to take a stab at it. Get it? Stab? Well love me or hate me, I heard a song, it fueled the idea and now I shall run with it. Let me know what you think and if I should even bother to continue. The father will be revealed in the next chapter if I continue with it.
One Year Earlier
"I'll be coming home just to be alone
Cause I know you're not there, and I know that you don't care
I can hardly wait to leave this place"
The music was blaring, the walls almost shaking in their disgust and as she sat alone in the darkness she couldn't even bother to care. She had been living with her father since their mother felt the need to take her brother and get the hell out and she was going to do it her own way.
"This house is not a home."
The banging on the walls from her fathers bedroom was erratic and she knew from experience that he was almost at his limit and he would soon barge into her room taking the stereo out with him. She didn't care; it had always been that way. At least since that bitch had walked out on them.
"Yeah some mother you turned out to be Rebecca. Take your son, your pride and joy Connor, and leave me to deal with the fallout."
Wasn't that always the way when one of your parents was famous and never home? Did anyone else have to deal with this kind of betrayal or was she just destined to be the carrier for all?
Sliding up the sleeve on her arm, knowing in the back of her mind that she didn't have much time if she wanted to get it done, she grabbed the razor and let it slice just deep enough to leave yet another brutal and bloody scar.
No one knew she did it, although her father always suspected. She was messed up and she knew it, but for her the feeling wasn't about pain, it was more the pleasure of it. There was such an erotic pleasure out of placing a cut into her skin that there was no description for.
Would she do it if her life was normal like all of her friends? No, but she was stuck with the situation, so she could do what she wanted with it. The control of her own body and the slicing was hers alone, something only she had the power to break herself of. She was finding though, with every slice, she didn't want to stop. It eased the real pain.
The door slammed open then, almost off the hinge, her father busting into the room precisely as planned, ready to either put his hand to her to bring fear, or to yell and steal her stereo.
"Grace, what the hell has gotten into you lately? Haven't you heard me banging for over an hour for you to relax on the volume?"
Leave it to her father never to raise his voice too much or say the wrong thing. He always had to get it right. It must have been all that television training in the WWE. Made him seem perfect in everyway. Another reason she didn't fit in with his plans.
The blood dripped then, splashing itself slowly on the carpet, seemingly making a noise that not even her father could miss. The last thing she needed was for him to see what she had been doing to herself.
"Grace what the hell happened? You're bleeding!" he yelled grabbing her arm and rolling her sleeve back up to where it had been only seconds before he came barging in. "Holy Shit!"
She let her gaze meet her father's and thinking to see anger what she saw totally shocked her. For the first time since her mother had walked out on them, he actually looked worried sick.
"How long has this been going on baby? Why didn't you tell me you had gotten this bad?"
"I didn't tell you because you never fucking listen. What did you want me to say Dad? Oh sorry but I've been cutting myself since Mom left? You wouldn't have paid attention anyway. You never pay attention."
Slicing her hand from her father's grasp, she ran from the room, making sure to take the stairs two at a time to get out of there as fast as she could.
As she made it to the front door, she heard her father calling behind her, the words that would haunt her for the rest of her days.
"You never let me pay attention."