Journal Entry #1
* Eugene King RP for C11.
The sweltering heat of the South is at times almost unbearable, today being no different. Olympic park, famously known from the 1996 Olympic Games, was usually filled with tourists trying to experience a piece of American history. However, the heat has staked claim to the park and most of downtown Atlanta. Easily over a hundred degrees, the temperature has kept folks inside the comforts of a cool air conditioner.
That is except one man…
Eugene King would stand out as a sore thumb anywhere he went and today was no exception. His bald head reflected beams of sunlight and the massive growth on his face known as a beard was enough to make a kid wet their pants, not to mention the scar over his right eye would cause an even bigger disaster, if you get the drift. The behemoth of a man stands at the edge of the water fountains that spew from the Olympic rings in the ground. His t-shirt, a tad too small, and his shorts gave him the right attire to jump in and cool off, but that was not on his agenda....
She was…
The woman, adorned in a mid-thigh length skirt and a tank-top, headed straight towards the large mass of a human. Eugene’s eyes found her and fixated on her. His face looked confused, as if he wanted to smile but didn’t have permission to. The woman, Eugene’s psychiatrist Dr. Sweeney, had no problem smiling. In fact, the sight of the man brought an instant smile to her face, the proverbial ear to ear smile.
“Thank you for coming,” he said as the woman approached her.
“No problem at all, though I think you should have picked somewhere inside instead of out here in this retched heat.”
Eugene grabbed her elbow lightly, leading her to a bench that was nestled underneath a large tree, creating the only shade spot in the whole park. Minutes passed as the pair sat in silence, beads of sweat started to pepper their foreheads.
“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” Dr. Sweeney asked, finally breaking the silence.
“I’m going to Boston.” Eugene replied his face filled with pain.
A look of concern etched across the doctor’s face.
“And why is that?” The tension in her voiced increased a notch.
“You said I needed to find a way to release my demons and I have found a way…..wrestling.”
Dr. Sweeney didn’t immediately reply as she digested the information. While she did prescribe physical therapy of some sort, she didn’t quite picture wrestling, after all Eugene King, despite his size, was far from a fighter.
“Are you are about this?” She asked, ending her silence.
“Yes.”
Another bout of silence fell over the pair. Eugene stared off into the myriad of buildings that littered downtown Atlanta while his counterpart stared at him. His eyes were her focus. She stared at the intently looking for a way in, but the door was closed and dead bolted.
“Why?”
At first it seemed as if Eugene did hear his psychiatrist, but he gave up his stare and looked at her. His eyes were locked in on hers, but she still couldn’t get in. All she could see was the blue hue and nothing more.
Despite her struggles to look deep into the soul of her patient, Dr. Sweeney was intrigued by the challenge that he presented to her. Of course she would never include her patient on that detail.
“It’s my turn.”
Eugene’s answer took her by surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words went into hiding. A perplexing look enveloped her face.
“What do you mean?” Dr. Sweeney was finally able to speak.
“I have been picked on my entire life. You don’t know what that is like and I don’t blame you for not understanding, but now it is my turn to pick on people. It is my turn to be the bully.”
His tone was cold and each word sent a shiver down the spine of Dr. Sweeney. No, she didn’t know what it was like to be picked on and made fun of, but she had seen enough patients to understand the effects. Eugene was different and Dr. Sweeney knew it. She had never consulted a patient with such demons that festered deep in his soul.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Her concern was genuine, she wasn’t sure he would be able to make it.
After all, he had spent years being abused by others much smaller than he.
“Yes….and there will be no stopping me.”
Dr. Sweeney didn’t need all of her education to figure out that she didn’t need to try and stop Eugene King.
Good old common sense told her that. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small journal and a pen and handed it to the giant.
“This is a journal that I want you to write it to document your progress during your physical therapy. There is no right or wrong thing to write, just write what you feel. We will discuss each week what you wrote and if writing out these feelings helps or not.”
Eugene takes the journal and shakes hands with Dr. Sweeney, “Thank you for coming.”
Dr. Sweeney nods as she gets up from the bench. The two confirm their meeting for next week and then the doctor ventures out into the stifling heat. Once she is out of sight Eugene looks down at the journal with a blank stare. Minutes passed before he finally opened the cover and made his first entry.
Dear Mr. Dweck,
You call yourself Mr. Amazing…why do you do that? Are you so high on yourself, that in your jelly bean you call a brain; you actually believe you are AMAZING? If you are AMAZING then I am Brad fucking Pitt. I watched your little promo and heard you call me a variety of names. What were they? Ah, yes….fiend, monster, freak-show. That’s what I call unoriginal you little fuck. I’ve been called those names for so many years that they don’t faze me anymore.
I recall you saying that you will save the day. The only way you will save the day is by jumping off of a fucking bridge and ridding us of your presence. Unfortunately for you, that is not an option because you love yourself soooo much, which is going to come back and bite you in the ass. How so you ask? Because you are going to have to step in the ring with me and the decade or so of torment and torture that I have stored inside of me.
You don’t stand a fucking iota of a chance you fucking twerp. If I were you I wouldn’t show up on Saturday, but if you decided to then please make sure your health insurance is up to date because you will be going to the hospital and you better hope it’s not in a body bag.
Before I end this, I want you to remember one thing…
IT’S MY TURN!
Sincerely,
Eugene King
