Nobody is born heartless, nobody is born emotionally detached, these are bad habits we pick up as we journey through life, habits which we either chose to eventually let go of or allow them to control us until the day we die. Regret and clinging on to the past traps us so that we can’t move on to become who we are destined to become, embracing sorrow and loneliness for too long leaves you cold and empty, unable to feel empathy for others.

Some of us are like the Gary Reece’s of the World, they get over heart ache and they move on to the next person they fall in love with. Some of us are like the Ricky Stanton’s of the World, too in love with themselves that they will never be able to experience true love with another but then sometimes there is another alternative, some are like myself, so ravaged by heart ache that they never allow themselves to get attached to anything or anyone they may come to care about in any way for fear of feeling even a shard of the heart ache they held on to for such a long time. So then why is it I claim to be better than both of these men? Why is it that such a broken, emotionally empty human being can stand tall in a ring and say that she has no worries about taking on such competition because she knows it will turn out in her favour? It’s simple really; I no longer have any fear inside of me. If I fall to my knees covered in blood at the hands of Gary Reece and Pretty Ricky I will still get back on my feet and stand tall, I will continue to ask for more until either I win or they finish the job like true professionals, and why? Because I no longer have anything to lose, I lost everything that has ever meant anything to me and a woman without fear is something to be reckoned with.

Come Monday night with or without the help of James Magnum, not only will I make Gary Reece look like a fool for the first time since I took away his title belt but I will make Ricky Stanton wish he never crossed the path of a woman so detached from life for the second time in two weeks. I may not be the best there is, or the best there ever was but I am a woman who embraces the idea of death, a woman with nothing left to lose but the success she built for herself. Everything else has been taken away from me and I’ll be damned if I let two mediocre hall of famers take away the last of my soul.




September 2001


Brian: “This girl was an absolute freak I mean I had her begging for it.”

Gio: “Begging? She was probably begging you to get away from her.”

Although idle time rarely happened in their profession it was the tradition to sit around and take shots at each other in between calls whilst telling stories of conquests of past and present. It was almost a male bonding experience as each of them sat around the large table telling exaggerated stories. The high temperatures from August seemed to seep through into September meaning heavy fire fighter uniforms where a definite no no. Most of them sat around in their dusty navy and yellow pants and off white t-shirts which never seemed to be completely clean even when straight out of the washing machine.

Gio: “What about you fresh face? You any stories about women or do you swing the other way?”

Gio flicked a tooth pick across the table at the young man who just smiled in response. It was clear to see he was new to the whole scene, his t-shirt still had its white glow and his eyes reflected his want to save the World. His hair was as black as coal and framed a handsome youthful face. His eyes a deep green that burned from his sallow skin but although he was intimidatingly handsome the soft features of his face where friendly and shined with certain innocence.

Marc Rossi: “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Gio: “Bullshit, every guy kisses and tells unless they’re in love.”

It seemed like the two dozen eyes at the table where now all focused on him as he blushed slightly, laughing nervously and looking at the floor.

Gio: “Oh shit! You are in love! Man, how can you be in love you’re like eighteen, you haven’t even experienced pussy from outside of New York yet.”

Marc Rossi: “I’m twenty.”

Gio: “You’re missing the point. The point is fuck what you can while you still have your youth, there’s plenty of time to settle down.”

He listened to them all as they tried to lecture him about not settling down at a young age, how he was handsome and could be indulging in as many women as he wanted but he just let it slide off him like water of a ducks back. He had already chosen the road he would take and it would hopefully be the road he’d follow for the rest of his life.

She was eighteen, just out of high school and stunning. They had met in high school, she was the prom queen and the girl others dreamt of being and he was the boy next door who had won her over. She had the wealth and the beauty to do anything she wanted in life where as he had been raised in a two bedroom apartment in Little Italy by just his mother after his father had been killed by a drunk driver when he was ten. They lived in two separate Worlds but somewhere in the middle they had found a common ground and had become inseparable. She was his everything and always would be.

Gio: “So have you got a picture of this girl who is making you throw away your youth?”

Gio leaned back on his chair so that it balanced on the two back legs whilst smiling. Gio was in his mid forties and although he could be a hard ass on the younger recruits he was great at his job and was still the one they all looked to for advice. Marc reached into the top pocket of the jacket that hung from the back of the chair he was sitting on, pulling out a crumpled picture which looked like it had been dragged through just about everything. He passed the picture to Gio with a proud smile.

Gio: “Wow…man… well done. She aint half bad, I can see why you’d wanna put all your eggs into one basket, she’s a pretty little thing aint she? Has she got a name?”

Marc Rossi: “Kendella, her name’s Kendella.”

Gio passed the aged photograph around the table to the other curious men sitting at the large, dirty, lunch table who each made approving remarks, some a little more vulgar than others. Marc took the photograph back after everyone had seen it and looked at it with a smile, the pretty girl smiling back at him. He slid the photograph into the pocket of his pants unable to take the love struck grin from his face. His daydream was interrupted when one of the fire fighters from down stairs came running into the canteen.

Johnny: “Hey guys, you better suit up. Nobody seems to be too sure what’s going on but it seems as if there’s been some kind of explosion in the Financial District Downtown. Word is just coming through on the radio; looks like a few precincts are being called down, sounds pretty serious.”

Gio: “Explosion? It’s going to be a long day so. Let’s go boys.”

The dozen fire fighters got to their feet and started making their way out to the large garage where their heavy coats and helmets hung up neatly beside the three bright red fire trucks. Marc slipped his arms into the heavy jacket, sliding on his harness and thick gloves and placing his helmet firmly on his head. He had hoped for an easy day today so he could get home early to see Kendella who would be spending her afternoon playing sally homemaker and cooking them both dinner and although he dreaded the thought of eating anything she cooked he looked forward to seeing her smile. Marc watched the rest of the precinct pile into the fire trucks and felt a tap on his back.

Gio: “You’re coming with me newbie. You could do with the experience.”

Marc Rossi: “Ok sir.”

Gio: “Jesus Christ Rossi, don’t call me sir, call me Gio, we’re not in school. Now get your ass onto that fire truck.”

Marc Rossi: “Ok Gio.”

Gio just sniggered and watched as Marc climbed up into the fire truck awkwardly, moving over towards the window to make room for the other fire fighters. Gio climbed in behind him and barked orders at the other fire fighters to ‘get a move on’. As they took off towards Manhattan Marc leaned his head against the window. He had always wanted to be a fire fighter, for as long as he could remember, he had even waltzed through the training without breaking a sweat but the last four months had been the most straining of his life. Nobody could prepare you for seeing some of the things he had seen in such a short period of time. Having others lives depend on you was no easy job as he was learning as the days go on. He hoped he would eventually become immune to the emotional strain but couldn’t see it happening in the foreseeable future.

Gio: “…Oh my God…”

Marc looked around at Gio who stared through the windscreen of the fire truck, Marc’s eyes followed Gio’s stare and it became obvious quickly why a morbid feeling had come over the whole fire truck. Thick black smoke bellowed from the top of the World Trade center, a horrified look crossing the faces of everybody in the fire truck, the only sound was coming from the radio where panic stricken base controllers announced that minutes previous a second plane had crashed into the south tower.

Johnny: “What the hell was a plane doing flying over Manhattan anyway?”

Gio: “We’ll analyse it more later but for the time being let’s just concentrate on getting across.”

It didn’t take them long to arrive on Manhattan, the panic and confusion of the people running away from the financial district was enough to put fear into the heart of any man. As they took corners sharply trying to get to the scene they watched as people bloody and injured ran in the opposite direction and sat at the side of the streets with their heads in their hands. Marc was so fixated by the carnage that was evolving around him that he hadn’t noticed they had reached their destination, instead he continued to stare out the window as if he where watching it all unfold on TV.

Gio: “Marc! Wake up and get here!”

He looked around at Gio who was already out on the street, signalling with his hand for Marc to follow him. Marc gathered his stuff together and climbed out of the fire truck chasing after Gio as he ran towards the World Trade Center. The screaming sounds of sirens and the cries of people where deafening. Marc tried to push it to the back of his mind and concentrate on doing his job but it was hard to ignore the terror that surrounded him. While running blindly through the smoke and rubble he heard a familiar voice.

Gio: “Marc! Marc! Over here!”

Marc turned but could see nothing so followed the voice through the smoke eventually stumbling upon Gio who was kneeling beside a woman who was lying injured on the ground. Gio tried to move her but realised she was stuck under some of the rubble which had fell from the top of the tower after the initial hit.

Woman: “Please help me! Please. My children are at home, I have to get back to my children.”

Gio: “its ok ma’am just try not to move, we’re here to help but you’ve got to listen to me ok?”

Marc knelt down beside her, the woman grabbing on to his hand and screaming out in terrified agony.

Marc Rossi: “You’ll be ok…”

Woman: “Please, my husband died in a car crash, my children, I need to get back to my children.”

Marc Rossi: “We’re going to do the best we can.”

Gio: “Marc, help me lift this up from her leg, we can’t waste time.”

Marc got to his feet and moved over to Gio’s side who was struggling to move a large piece of rubble that had pinned the woman to the ground. Even with the both of them pushing it with all their strength it wouldn’t budge. Marc recognised the helpless look in Gio’s eyes, a look of defeat, and a look that said he didn’t know what to do next. But Marc wouldn’t give up, he continued to push and push even when the woman had lost consciousness he continued on, hearing his own cried of anguish as he cursed himself for not being strong enough. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Gio looking back at him.

Gio: “It’s no use…”

Marc Rossi: “I’m not leaving her.”

Gio: “She’s gone Marc; we have to keep moving…”

Marc barely had time to gather his thoughts when the ground began to shake and the smoke around them thickened.

Gio: “The building is coming down! Get out of here!”

The words hadn’t even had time to register in Marc’s mind before the smoke engulfed them both. His last conscious thought was of the beautiful woman who was at home waiting for him to finish work.



September 2007


Kendell pulled her coat tight around her as she walked down forty eighth street, her high heels tapping along the concrete sidewalk as she moved, pulling the collar of her coat up around her face in hopes that it would hide her red rimmed eyes. The street was lined with NYPD cars as far as the eye could see the flashing red and blue lights ripping through the darkness that surrounded her as she made her way down the street. She let out a deep sigh, shivering a little despite the warmth of the night air.

She had flown home to Manhattan the previous week to nurse the injury she received while taking on Curt Evan’s to win back her title. She had spent the week as a recluse only leaving the house once to go to the local corner shop to pick up some booze and cigarettes. She had spent the previous night sitting at home alone in the dark watching a documentary about New York fire fighters on CNN and sobbing into a box of Kleenex and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Before she knew it it was daylight once again and she had to put on her most formal of clothes and make her way down to ground zero. Three hours standing in the rain just so she could hear his old Fire Chief read out a list of names and finish with him saying what a brave and talented young man he was and how he will be missed everyday. He didn’t know the half of it. He didn’t know that she woke up every morning for the last six years feeling like somebody had ripped out her heart, feeling detached from everything around her and wishing that she was dead, the best part of her had died with him, she didn’t even recognise the person she’d become.

She turned onto Fifth Avenue and began to walk faster, keeping her head down and letting her long dark hair fall either side of her face so that her tears weren’t visible to the rest of the World. She had been brave enough for most of the morning, keeping herself together as she stood under the black umbrella blocking her from the appropriate rain, it was the sound of his name being read out over the microphone while she looked at the ground that had set it all off, realising that she was standing where he had last stood alive and hearing.

Marc Anthony Rossi

It was like her heart was breaking all over again as the memories of phone calls and realisation came flooding back to her. She stood on her own in the middle of the crowd of mourners. She used to attend the remembrance service with Marc’s mother, the only real mother she had ever known but she had passed away of cancer two years previous on what would have been her sons twenty fourth birthday. She stood still as her tears mixed with the small puddle of rain gathering at her feet, gripping tightly on to the single white rose she held in her hands.

She finally reached her destination and entered the building through the revolving door, keeping her head down and making her way to the elevator which brought her to the first floor. There wasn’t much of a queue, thankfully, so she skipped through the velvet ropes to the desk where she put twenty dollars on the counter. The woman behind the counter must have noticed her mascara stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes because instead of making small talk with her she just nodded knowingly and handed her the ticket. She made her way through the building again, occasionally glancing at her watch. She rushed past the man with the camera who was trying to convince her to get her photo taken and collect it at the end of the tour, she ignored him and continued to walk on until she got to the elevator and pushed herself in until the elevator was packed to the brim. She kept to herself while the people around her made pointless chit chat. She glanced at her watch again and let out an exhausted sigh. As the elevator came to a stop she stepped out.

The top of the empire state building had the most amazing view of the city. Tourists and New Yorkers alike chatted animatedly about the wonderful view of the city at night and the bright lights and tall buildings. Kendell moved around to the side she wanted to be on, staring off into the distance, waiting patiently. She pulled her jacket tight around her, looking away for a split second before the people around hers ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ made her look up once again. Off in the distance two bright lights broke through the night sky from the spot where her soul had died, the tribute in lights. And then the tears started again as she covered her mouth and hung her head to hide her sobs from the rest of the World.