The Saga Continues:
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Many of the old buildings from my childhood were still there. The school was still standing, albeit a bit run down. The group home he was in after his father kicked him out is still functioning as a shelter for orphaned children. Even the old oak tree near his high school was still standing. As is common knowledge, there is no feeling like the one of coming home from a long period absence. For a moment, Anthoni just stands off to the side on the sidewalk. Home was every bit as beautiful as he had remembered it. The trees still danced elegantly with each gentle breeze. The children still loved to play basket ball on the small court behind the apartment complex.
Still, that feeling paled in comparison to the one he got when he approached my own home. It was a relatively small townhouse, located in downtown Chicago. The steps leading up to the front door showed signs of age, but they were still very much sturdy. Going up each step, he felt pebble after pebble crunch loudly beneath his feet, continuously building the anticipation to see what the place was like on the inside. The finish on the wooden door was severely tarnished, and the brass on the round door knob was in bad shape as well. That didn't make it seem any less inviting.
He pulled the silver chain from under his tee shirt, and held it up, examining it carefully. It was old, that was evident by the dust which covered each groove in the key. Instead of putting the key into the knob, he opted to try to try turning it first. Surprisingly, the door opens. Strange, he thought as he slipped the key back on my chain, and back under his shirt. When last he was there, he very much remembered locking the door. He stands there, staring into the darkness. He was nervous, he could tell by the way his hands were quivering. He pulls a small, amber bottle out of his pocket. He pours a couple of the pills into his hand and swallows them. The bottle now empty, he chucked it over his shoulder and step over the threshold.
The old house had not been cleaned for quite sometime. That was evident by the moldy scent in the air. It was very cold too; just walking into the house had caused him to shiver. And yet, there was a strangely familiar warmth to the place. He had to find out why there was this strong feeling of warmth here. It could be because of the lack of air conditioning. Or maybe the heat was left on. Somehow, he doubted it. He had an intuition about this feeling. Rubbing his hand along the wall, he struggled to find a light switch. Abruptly, he heard a voice ring out in the darkness.
"No need for lights. You know who I am."
"Your voice sounds familiar...Yet still, I know not who you are."
"Anthoni...I am your brother..."
A flash of light illuminates the room, temporarily blinding Anthoni. As is eyes finally come back to focus, he looks to the center of the room. Sure enough, sitting in a lounge chair with his legs propped up, his brother Jeff is smirking right back at him. He rises to his feet as Anthoni rushes over to him. They embrace in a brotherly hug, slapping each other on the back.
"Jeff, what the hell are you doing here, and how did you know I'd be coming here?"
"Simply put, I know what's going on, and where you've been already."
"First of all, Jeff, nothing is going on. Secondly, since when did I need you to keep tabs on where I go in my free time? I can take care of myself you know."
"Cut the bullshit, Anthoni. How long did you really think it would be before I found out you were getting back in the ring? I am your brother, you know."
"First of all, I'm only thinking about it. Nothing has been signed yet..."
"THEN WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"
Jeff reaches over to an adjacent coffee table, and retrieves a folded paper document. He unfolds it, and thrusts it into Anthoni's face.
"Why don't you answer this. Why the hell are you breaking and entering into my home, much less going through my mail?"
"BECAUSE I'M CONCERNED ABOUT MY BROTHER, DAMN IT! I JUST DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU DO ANYTHING STUPID!"
"I'm out of here, man. We'll talk about this later."
As Anthoni moves to go out the door, Jeff swiftly gets in the door way, preventing him from making his exit.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what brought this decision on."
"Damn it, Jeff, get out the way!"
Anthoni pushes him out of my way, and hurriedly descends the steps. Glancing back once more, he can see Jeff burying his head in his hands. Anthoni quickly turns away, and walks off down the street, putting a dip in his lip while doing so...
"Sweet Justice...Sweet Justice...will come at Destiny, when I become the WWA World Heavyweight Champion. In the mean time, there appears to be another bump in the road, and that would be my opponent this week at Sin. He goes by the name of Sweet Justice, and much like myself, he was victorious last week."
"That will change this week, for a couple of reasons. You see, unlike Mr. Justice who claims to be some kind of legend in this business, I see no need in making meaningless examples of dummies and fast food employees. I make examples out of my opponents in the ring, just like last week, when I did exactly what I said I would...I defeated Tyson Deadwood to become number one contender to Chris Wall's World Championship. And this week, I'll make an example of him."
"Sweet Justice, it's really quite simple. I don't really know what your motivation is going into our match this week, but mine is simple. There are a number of people who think that my win over Deadwood last week was a fluke. Yet the fact remains that I defeated another self-proclaimed legend last week, climbing over the Man Mountain to earn my shot at the World Championship. But this week isn't about Chris Wall and MY World Title. This week is about who is the better man, and that will be me."
"Desperation ultimately leads to one's downfall, Justice. I heard what you were saying, how you NEED the World Title. Unlike you, I don't need the title to prove that I am the best. I know that already, and you'll find that out this week at Sin. You may look at me as a cocky bastard if you wish, but that was the same mistake that Deadwood made last week. He underestimated me, and look at what happened to him. All his talk and hype about causing me pain and such, and what happens? He passes out because he couldn't take the pain that I brought to him. Let's just hope that you'll fare better than he, although, the outcome will remain the same. My hand will be raised in victory over your fallen carcass, and I'll continue on my road to the World Championship."
Anthoni spits a puddle of tobacco juice to the ground, and licks his lips before smiling confidently. He brushes his hair back with his hand, and continues down the streets of Chicago...