San Francisco: And You Know What That Means
Disclaimer: I don't own Johnny or any of the other characters brought into this mess. If I did I would be torn up in ickle bickle pieces in a trash
bag buried in my backyard.
Chapter One: End to All Hopes and Dreams
"I just know I'll love you forever," I tell you, resting my head in your lap; like a child and his mother. You are my mother in way-the mother of my new freedom. Freedom from you, this insane bloodlust that I now know could never be my own. Though the walls of my mind are stained with blood, there is countless white under all that blood.
"I'm a new man you know," I tell you. Your smile is almost heartbreaking. You tell me that you know and that you love me too. God, earlier today you were even talking about what our kids would be named. Well we'll have one. It will be a boy and his name will be John. Your blood will serve as his afterbirth.
You trust me. Jesus you trust me. After that night and your reaction to my phone call (which by the way was wholly moving and beautiful) I thought any kind of trust or respect from you was quite the impossibility. How clever am I? I have hidden this dagger you see here shining in your face in the mattress. Stabbed right into it, as I knew I would seduce you and have no means to hide such a weapon. Dammit you're not beautiful. You're cowardly and ugly. Your skinny face is stretched over impossible bones. I will be so glad when you're dead and that cheap make up rots off your face. I also hate your hair cut. It's stupid for a female.
But grudged I still continue to look at you with love and admiration that only a school boy can accomplish. Did you not at one point say I reminded you of an angel? Ha! I'm only an angel to you if it means being present at your death and reading your book of life's woe and casting you into the fiery hell that you deserve.
"My love, come back, I need you," I say as you start to edge to the door, so frightened. Like a frightened bunny. Hippity hop hippity hop. "BITCH!" I scream as you start tearing through your shitty apartment. I wish only I could have helped you replace the wallpaper before your timely end. It's a huge meat cleaver, not one of my usual smiley-face knives. Because that's it, that's the fuck of it: you're just meat to me.
"Pin-cushion! Cum dumpster!" I shriek, pure glee rushing through me like when I was fucking you. Your taste still courses through my veins. I'll probably puke later. My hands, white spiders against your fair flesh clutch you to the wall. You're not as cocky as the first time; you little hemorrhage to my mind. You're frozen in fear, I can smell it. Because bitch I am a predator. "Come now Devi, be mine forever you do love me so," I laugh, "Let me bleed on the altar that is yours. Give me the fucking honor." You stay there, something....something like an ocean washes away your fear. You think this is some kind of sadomasochist thing don't you? It's only of the best sort baby.
I slice my hand, right where the silver scar lays from where you bashed my arms into a mirror. My milky blood flows and though you seem to look eager, I am repulsed. I see your bloodlust and hope this will be the last time I must satisfy my own. Because dammit I am a monster, I draw out your darkest qualities. Yours in this case your full lips on my hand. But I'm stronger than you think. I clench my hand around your stupid mouth. That stale old fear enters the green gaze I used to be so fascinated with.
God I'm really wishing to bust your skull right about now. The wall's right here, but I have more to say. "Oh what's the matter Goth baby? I thought this was the 'artsy' thing to do. Or am I wrong and this has gone out of style? Well they always told me I was an old-fashioned boy." I cut up and down your neck, to your collarbone and on your shoulders. Tears start to well up in my throat as I finish a little rose on your stomach. "I used to be an artist too. Y'know, with paint and all that-now I hope to get back to that." A look of appeal flashes across your face. I answer it, my hand still over your mouth, "No my love. You can't paint over this or what you did to me or the HELL YOU PUT ME THROUGH!"
I let you up but not for long. The happiness is returning. I never want this beating to end. With every punch I put your frail body through I see every face of everyone who ever doubted me, those five year olds back in kindergarten who called me 'Noodle Boy', those assholes at the coffee shop, Tess who dared to mess with me and think she could outwit me, Jimmy who couldn't grasp this, Edgar who I want back so bad and Squee who's life is so fucked up.
Blood is splashing all over my face, in my hair and mouth, between my legs and again I want you so bad. You take me in your arms, knowing you are close to death anyway. I kiss your bloody lips. You are gone and I am free. Free to be who I am. God I love you right now. I love the fact you're gone. I get up and put my clothes back on and just leave you there. Wait....I had my knife in my hand the whole time I was beating you. Jeez and I thought it was my pure and unadulterated male strength....
Disclaimer: I don't own Johnny or any of the other characters brought into this mess. If I did I would be torn up in ickle bickle pieces in a trash
bag buried in my backyard.
Chapter One: End to All Hopes and Dreams
"I just know I'll love you forever," I tell you, resting my head in your lap; like a child and his mother. You are my mother in way-the mother of my new freedom. Freedom from you, this insane bloodlust that I now know could never be my own. Though the walls of my mind are stained with blood, there is countless white under all that blood.
"I'm a new man you know," I tell you. Your smile is almost heartbreaking. You tell me that you know and that you love me too. God, earlier today you were even talking about what our kids would be named. Well we'll have one. It will be a boy and his name will be John. Your blood will serve as his afterbirth.
You trust me. Jesus you trust me. After that night and your reaction to my phone call (which by the way was wholly moving and beautiful) I thought any kind of trust or respect from you was quite the impossibility. How clever am I? I have hidden this dagger you see here shining in your face in the mattress. Stabbed right into it, as I knew I would seduce you and have no means to hide such a weapon. Dammit you're not beautiful. You're cowardly and ugly. Your skinny face is stretched over impossible bones. I will be so glad when you're dead and that cheap make up rots off your face. I also hate your hair cut. It's stupid for a female.
But grudged I still continue to look at you with love and admiration that only a school boy can accomplish. Did you not at one point say I reminded you of an angel? Ha! I'm only an angel to you if it means being present at your death and reading your book of life's woe and casting you into the fiery hell that you deserve.
"My love, come back, I need you," I say as you start to edge to the door, so frightened. Like a frightened bunny. Hippity hop hippity hop. "BITCH!" I scream as you start tearing through your shitty apartment. I wish only I could have helped you replace the wallpaper before your timely end. It's a huge meat cleaver, not one of my usual smiley-face knives. Because that's it, that's the fuck of it: you're just meat to me.
"Pin-cushion! Cum dumpster!" I shriek, pure glee rushing through me like when I was fucking you. Your taste still courses through my veins. I'll probably puke later. My hands, white spiders against your fair flesh clutch you to the wall. You're not as cocky as the first time; you little hemorrhage to my mind. You're frozen in fear, I can smell it. Because bitch I am a predator. "Come now Devi, be mine forever you do love me so," I laugh, "Let me bleed on the altar that is yours. Give me the fucking honor." You stay there, something....something like an ocean washes away your fear. You think this is some kind of sadomasochist thing don't you? It's only of the best sort baby.
I slice my hand, right where the silver scar lays from where you bashed my arms into a mirror. My milky blood flows and though you seem to look eager, I am repulsed. I see your bloodlust and hope this will be the last time I must satisfy my own. Because dammit I am a monster, I draw out your darkest qualities. Yours in this case your full lips on my hand. But I'm stronger than you think. I clench my hand around your stupid mouth. That stale old fear enters the green gaze I used to be so fascinated with.
God I'm really wishing to bust your skull right about now. The wall's right here, but I have more to say. "Oh what's the matter Goth baby? I thought this was the 'artsy' thing to do. Or am I wrong and this has gone out of style? Well they always told me I was an old-fashioned boy." I cut up and down your neck, to your collarbone and on your shoulders. Tears start to well up in my throat as I finish a little rose on your stomach. "I used to be an artist too. Y'know, with paint and all that-now I hope to get back to that." A look of appeal flashes across your face. I answer it, my hand still over your mouth, "No my love. You can't paint over this or what you did to me or the HELL YOU PUT ME THROUGH!"
I let you up but not for long. The happiness is returning. I never want this beating to end. With every punch I put your frail body through I see every face of everyone who ever doubted me, those five year olds back in kindergarten who called me 'Noodle Boy', those assholes at the coffee shop, Tess who dared to mess with me and think she could outwit me, Jimmy who couldn't grasp this, Edgar who I want back so bad and Squee who's life is so fucked up.
Blood is splashing all over my face, in my hair and mouth, between my legs and again I want you so bad. You take me in your arms, knowing you are close to death anyway. I kiss your bloody lips. You are gone and I am free. Free to be who I am. God I love you right now. I love the fact you're gone. I get up and put my clothes back on and just leave you there. Wait....I had my knife in my hand the whole time I was beating you. Jeez and I thought it was my pure and unadulterated male strength....