Post by Misha LeCavalier on Feb 4, 2017 19:30:21 GMT -5
Late 1984
Rarely did Ethan LeCavalier contemplate Death. Despite what he did for a living, despite him constantly putting his body on the line, despite always being in perilous situations...to him, Death had always been distant concept. He often centered his thoughts on Life. His motto had always been to take things day by day, to live and enjoy things to their fullest capacity.
But of course, he knew that one day he and Death would walk hand in hand into that great night. But, he chose not to dwell upon it; he chose not to let it affect him.
But that’s the curious thing about Death, yeah? It doesn’t necessarily have to reach out and touch you in order to affect you—those around you will more than suffice.
Courtney LeCavalier…
That is what Ethan and Neva had named their child; that was the name of their son. As the weeks went on, the two gre more and more excited. However, things started to take a turn for the worse.
Neva was inflected with extreme pain during the early stages of the pregnancy; indescribable pain she’d never felt before. The doctors were unable to figure out it’s cause. At the time, all they could do was check on the baby. Those tests came back negative, and the small child seemed to be in good health. And soon, those pains disappeared…
Nevertheless, they returned. And while them brought a feeling nothingness.
To be safe and in an attempt to ease her mind, Neva scheduled another trip to the doctors. At this point, her body was acting a bit strangely. And that’s when the doctors noticed it…
A miscarriage.
—The loss saddened Neva. However, the child’s untimely end affected Ethan in a harsher manner. He didn’t care that it was a boy or a girl. He didn’t care if it grew to secretary or dentist. Ethan merely wanted to hold his child, to look upon it and see glimpses of his own image.
Death robbed him of that opportunity.
For a period of time Ethan was cold, ruthless. There were no jokes, no smiles. He would comfort his wife, then dive head-first into his work. He used the violent nature of his work to clear his mind. And if he were being truthful, his work in the ring was a bit intentionally reckless as well.
He needed to feel something, anything...even if it was pain.
Eventually, after a fair amount of time, Ethan mellowed. The jokes made their way back into rotation. The smiles began to creep back in. Even still, a certain fear still lingered in the back of his mind…
Would Death attempt to stroll in and steal the next child, if there was one?
Rarely did Ethan LeCavalier contemplate Death. Despite what he did for a living, despite him constantly putting his body on the line, despite always being in perilous situations...to him, Death had always been distant concept. He often centered his thoughts on Life. His motto had always been to take things day by day, to live and enjoy things to their fullest capacity.
But of course, he knew that one day he and Death would walk hand in hand into that great night. But, he chose not to dwell upon it; he chose not to let it affect him.
But that’s the curious thing about Death, yeah? It doesn’t necessarily have to reach out and touch you in order to affect you—those around you will more than suffice.
Courtney LeCavalier…
That is what Ethan and Neva had named their child; that was the name of their son. As the weeks went on, the two gre more and more excited. However, things started to take a turn for the worse.
Neva was inflected with extreme pain during the early stages of the pregnancy; indescribable pain she’d never felt before. The doctors were unable to figure out it’s cause. At the time, all they could do was check on the baby. Those tests came back negative, and the small child seemed to be in good health. And soon, those pains disappeared…
Nevertheless, they returned. And while them brought a feeling nothingness.
To be safe and in an attempt to ease her mind, Neva scheduled another trip to the doctors. At this point, her body was acting a bit strangely. And that’s when the doctors noticed it…
A miscarriage.
—The loss saddened Neva. However, the child’s untimely end affected Ethan in a harsher manner. He didn’t care that it was a boy or a girl. He didn’t care if it grew to secretary or dentist. Ethan merely wanted to hold his child, to look upon it and see glimpses of his own image.
Death robbed him of that opportunity.
For a period of time Ethan was cold, ruthless. There were no jokes, no smiles. He would comfort his wife, then dive head-first into his work. He used the violent nature of his work to clear his mind. And if he were being truthful, his work in the ring was a bit intentionally reckless as well.
He needed to feel something, anything...even if it was pain.
Eventually, after a fair amount of time, Ethan mellowed. The jokes made their way back into rotation. The smiles began to creep back in. Even still, a certain fear still lingered in the back of his mind…
Would Death attempt to stroll in and steal the next child, if there was one?