Author's Note: I do not (however much I'd like to) own Johnny. He comes from god, also known as Jhonen Vasques. That is all. Now, read my crappy excuse for a fanfiction will you?
~~~Chapter 1~~~
Johnny sat on his couch, drinking a fizz-wizz and flipping through channels. He was aggrivated, some crack-headded caroler had mocked him on the way home; even though Nny got his revenge, it ruined his mood, and the constant fighting between the two doughboys wasn't helping either. When he felt a migrane comming on, he finally had enough. "WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY? I'M TRYING TO ENJOY WHAT'S LEFT OF THIS DAMN DAY!" The doughboys went silent, and Johnny flopped back down on the couch. Perfect, just perfect, he thought, nothing to watch except this christmas crap. Who likes this jacked up nonsense anyway? He shifted his gaze towards the window. Maybe I'll go for a walk, ease my mind. Johnny picked up his jacket and opened the door, the December chill numbing his face. He didn't realize how deep the snow was, and he scowled under his breath when he got his boot caught in a drift. "Forget this." But before he could turn around, something caught his eye. A girl, not much shorter than him, came walking down the street carrying a paper bag. She looked about his age, with stormy grey eyes looking tired and forlorn, and dark brown hair cut to a side bang and ponytail. She obviously didn't notice Nny, for before he could dislodge his boot and get out of the way, she knocked into him and fell into the snow. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. Damn, the decorations broke." She stooped down to get what remained of the bag, then got up and brushed the snow off her jeans. "Hi, my name's Zak. Sorry, but I gotta go, my mom's waiting for this medication." She ran off in the other direction. Nny watched her go until all that was left was a light snowfall in her direction. She doesn't seem bad, I'll be watching for her next time. He started off for home.
Zak ran up the steps to her house and unlocked the door. The place was messy, nothing unusual. This was how she found the house everyday after work. Ever since her father died. But Zak got used to it, because her mother was the only family she had left. She placed the bag on the counter and sorted through the broken decorations. Finally, she found a tiny pill container. She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and headed upstairs to her mother's room. Zak opened the door. "Eh? Oh, hi honey, home from work?" Her mother asked. Her breath stank of beer. "Yeah mom, I've got your pills here, I'll just leave them on the table." She put them down. "When's your father getting home? He's s'posed to be back by now." Zak's smile faded. "Mom, dad's been dead for four years now." Her mother smiled sheepishly and laughed. "Your so silly! Go call him and tell him to come home." Zak got up and went downstairs. "At least she wasn't in a bad mood, like yesterday." She rubbed her arm, which had multiple bruises and cuts. "Zak, remember, she was hungover, it wasn't completely her fault..." she tried to assure herself. She sat down on the couch and sighed. "Oh, why even bother anymore? I have no friends, my mom's a wreck. Every bit of happiness has been taken away from me, the only thing left to do is..." She grasped the knife in her hands. "No." She put it down. "That wouldn't solve anything. Dad would've wanted me to go on, so I will. Besides, I've got mom to take care of, even though she hates me." Zak smiled slightly and turned the TV on.