Post by Dita Morgan on Jul 2, 2012 14:37:49 GMT -4
We’re taught all our lives what is wrong and what is right, how to behave, how to act. Don’t do this don’t do that, but one person who wont follow these rules is Dita Morgan. She’s someone who has never played along the silly rules and has done her own thing the whole way along.
Dita is sitting next to a coffee table on the floor of her motel room. The table is at the foot of the bed. Dita’s face is pale and last nights make up leaves dark lines around her eyes. She has on a faded pair of denim jeans, a huge grey jumper which falls off her shoulder and its long sleeves fall over her hands. Her nails have chipped electric blue polish on them, her hair is a mess her phone is pressed against her ear and she chews at some of the polish on her nails.
Dita Morgan: What do you mean you haven’t seen him? Its been a week... After the match he spoke to Benny then took off, He doesn’t answer my calls or emails... I know this is hard for him but he sad he understood... Ok, Let me know if anything happens.
She clicks off the call and rests her head against the bed, last week was probably the craziest match for her to be involved in and now she as to get back into the ring with Cameron Wolves. The last few weeks people have doubted The Wild Child, in fact they questioned the name but today might be the time to talk about why.
Dita Morgan: I don’t do rules. I just don’t never have never will. Why Should I play by rules anyway? Life is too short to fall in line. You fight with your siblings to be noticed, you are left by dear old daddy who can’t handle the responsibilities of raising the children her had a hand in making. You go to 13 different schools and exasperate you mother when she gets yet another letter saying her daughter has been expelled.
She lets out a sigh.
Dita Morgan: At 15 you decide you’ve had enough of all this nonsense and on a family holiday you lie to you family, tell them your staying on with friends when really you have no where to go. You just wanted out. You end up working in a run down record shop and dealing for the manager on the side; you get a good cut of profits and add to your own stash. You do this until your 18, then you go and work in a sleazy bar serving drinks and dealing under the table. You have clients who trust you and will pay you over the odds for a great product. For three years you’ve had the reputation of a wild child who has a great head for business but my have a drug problem, but who cares when the product is sold and the money keeps rolling in?
She bites at the polish on her nails again.
Dita Morgan: Working in a club may have its merits but it gets old quick, there are only so many runs you can do in a night and only so many lines you can take to keep you awake. You find your angel, a man who says he will save you take you away from all of this but you have to do one thing... Clean up your act, go to a gym and work out, become eye candy as a valet in his wrestling promotion but your anger deep down gives you a fight that you take to the ring. You’re violent and aggressive and the crowd love it, but soon girls are relegated to the bikini spots which make you feel dirty once again.
She scowls and brings her knees up and wraps her arms around them and rests her chin on them.
Dita Morgan: But that doesn’t matter; your angel has found you work. How about getting back on the scene again? Surely you’re still skilled at running? You end up in situations you regret. And soon your angels shine fades, you’re used and abused and when you find that red coat, the one you bought for your friend, in the back of his car you know something is wrong. Once again those bags are packed; you sleep on the floor and long to be somewhere else. Then you find it... And that’s when you pack up again and catch the first flight to the states; you make your way to the head office. Sit in the lobby glaring at the stuck up receptionist until she gives in and tells the powers that be you’re there. After explaining your goals you sign a developmental contract. But you have to promise something... You’ll clean you your act; yeah yeah you’ve heard this before.
She rolls her eyes.
Dita Morgan: Where do you go from there? You play the good girl you think everyone one wants to see; you go along with the act... You smile and wave acting like a god damn saint when deep down there’s something screaming inside you to be yourself, to stop hiding behind an image which isn’t you... And what do you know? It works! But then another angel comes along and helps you clean up your act and after that little DUI incident you take the advice and go into rehab. You clean up, you retire for a bit, you find a new home in the APW... And there you find something new... Someone else who could be interesting...
She smiles to herself.
Dita Morgan: but thats enough about me, lets talk about Cameron Wolves shall we? Last week you beat the hell out of me, but look I’m still standing, I’m still here. You can knock me down and I’ll keep coming back. You really don’t think I deserve to be here but you know what? Every person out there doubts me and I keep coming back. You think your words insult me or hurt me in anyway? Dude I’ve heard worse, I heard it on a daily basis. So you can bring all those insults to the ring, you can criticize me all you want. But this week you have to face me, this week you go up against yet another person you deem beneath you but I’ll bring the fight you want, that you feel you deserve. So bring it Cameron, do your worse, I have nothing to loose.
Dita gives a little shrug and smiles to herself as the camera fades out.
Dita is sitting next to a coffee table on the floor of her motel room. The table is at the foot of the bed. Dita’s face is pale and last nights make up leaves dark lines around her eyes. She has on a faded pair of denim jeans, a huge grey jumper which falls off her shoulder and its long sleeves fall over her hands. Her nails have chipped electric blue polish on them, her hair is a mess her phone is pressed against her ear and she chews at some of the polish on her nails.
Dita Morgan: What do you mean you haven’t seen him? Its been a week... After the match he spoke to Benny then took off, He doesn’t answer my calls or emails... I know this is hard for him but he sad he understood... Ok, Let me know if anything happens.
She clicks off the call and rests her head against the bed, last week was probably the craziest match for her to be involved in and now she as to get back into the ring with Cameron Wolves. The last few weeks people have doubted The Wild Child, in fact they questioned the name but today might be the time to talk about why.
Dita Morgan: I don’t do rules. I just don’t never have never will. Why Should I play by rules anyway? Life is too short to fall in line. You fight with your siblings to be noticed, you are left by dear old daddy who can’t handle the responsibilities of raising the children her had a hand in making. You go to 13 different schools and exasperate you mother when she gets yet another letter saying her daughter has been expelled.
She lets out a sigh.
Dita Morgan: At 15 you decide you’ve had enough of all this nonsense and on a family holiday you lie to you family, tell them your staying on with friends when really you have no where to go. You just wanted out. You end up working in a run down record shop and dealing for the manager on the side; you get a good cut of profits and add to your own stash. You do this until your 18, then you go and work in a sleazy bar serving drinks and dealing under the table. You have clients who trust you and will pay you over the odds for a great product. For three years you’ve had the reputation of a wild child who has a great head for business but my have a drug problem, but who cares when the product is sold and the money keeps rolling in?
She bites at the polish on her nails again.
Dita Morgan: Working in a club may have its merits but it gets old quick, there are only so many runs you can do in a night and only so many lines you can take to keep you awake. You find your angel, a man who says he will save you take you away from all of this but you have to do one thing... Clean up your act, go to a gym and work out, become eye candy as a valet in his wrestling promotion but your anger deep down gives you a fight that you take to the ring. You’re violent and aggressive and the crowd love it, but soon girls are relegated to the bikini spots which make you feel dirty once again.
She scowls and brings her knees up and wraps her arms around them and rests her chin on them.
Dita Morgan: But that doesn’t matter; your angel has found you work. How about getting back on the scene again? Surely you’re still skilled at running? You end up in situations you regret. And soon your angels shine fades, you’re used and abused and when you find that red coat, the one you bought for your friend, in the back of his car you know something is wrong. Once again those bags are packed; you sleep on the floor and long to be somewhere else. Then you find it... And that’s when you pack up again and catch the first flight to the states; you make your way to the head office. Sit in the lobby glaring at the stuck up receptionist until she gives in and tells the powers that be you’re there. After explaining your goals you sign a developmental contract. But you have to promise something... You’ll clean you your act; yeah yeah you’ve heard this before.
She rolls her eyes.
Dita Morgan: Where do you go from there? You play the good girl you think everyone one wants to see; you go along with the act... You smile and wave acting like a god damn saint when deep down there’s something screaming inside you to be yourself, to stop hiding behind an image which isn’t you... And what do you know? It works! But then another angel comes along and helps you clean up your act and after that little DUI incident you take the advice and go into rehab. You clean up, you retire for a bit, you find a new home in the APW... And there you find something new... Someone else who could be interesting...
She smiles to herself.
Dita Morgan: but thats enough about me, lets talk about Cameron Wolves shall we? Last week you beat the hell out of me, but look I’m still standing, I’m still here. You can knock me down and I’ll keep coming back. You really don’t think I deserve to be here but you know what? Every person out there doubts me and I keep coming back. You think your words insult me or hurt me in anyway? Dude I’ve heard worse, I heard it on a daily basis. So you can bring all those insults to the ring, you can criticize me all you want. But this week you have to face me, this week you go up against yet another person you deem beneath you but I’ll bring the fight you want, that you feel you deserve. So bring it Cameron, do your worse, I have nothing to loose.
Dita gives a little shrug and smiles to herself as the camera fades out.
