Disclaimery Stuff again.
Gorillaz aren't mine, but methinks I own this story. I think. Who knows? Someone might of written Exactly The Same Thing, but I don't know about it.
Poo.
But I Didn't Copy No - one.
:D
Anyway, back to the Story …
'Yo, Noods, slow up a bit,' Russel called as they passed through the car park towards the door leading into the cellar, 2D's room. He was looking over towards the Winnebago, then back at Noodle who was marching determinedly towards the door. She swivelled around at his call.
'Nani?' She'd been speaking in Japanese to Russel most of the time, but he understood her this time.
'D'ya think we should tell Muds? Only, it is his band, after all …'
'Fine, fine,' Noodle snapped as she continued stamping towards the door. As soon as she was out of sight of him, she let her determined expression drop as she started to panic. She rushed into his bedroom without knocking, but he wasn't there, like Russel said. She half – sighed, half – wailed, as she shut the door and raced back up the stairs to the car park where she could hear the two men.
'He's prob'ly jus' 'angin' round outside, havin' a fag or somefin'. He won't be far. Why you wanna see 'im anyway? 'E's jus' a pathetic paedo 'oo 'its on children. No biggy.'
Noodle clenched her fists in rage as she heard him. His ignorance and hate made her bite her lip to stop her from shouting out.
'Yeah, but Muds -'
'No.'
She heard the door slam. She punched the wall as hard as she could to release her anger and stress and anxiety. It made a crack in the wall. It felt good. She crept out and moped(1) up to Russel. She shook her head.
'We might as well give up,' Russel said sadly. 'Like Murdoc said, he'll probably turn up somewhere. He's probably gone for some more cigarettes or something.'
'No,' Noodle argued. 'We mustn't give up. Who knows what he might be doing? You know he's missed out on the counselling, and he's as bad as he was before. He could of taken another over dose! Come on, Russel-san, we must find him!'
She dragged him off.
--
It was a few hours after and Russel was sick and tried of searching for him and he wanted a break. But Noodle would not let him sit down.
'- the kitchen, the studio, his room, the car park, the balcony and the back door,' she counted off on her fingers worriedly. She looked behind her through a window displaying the golden sun, slipping over the horizon, completely oblivious to the chaos of the world. Of Noodle's world.
She whispered: 'So the only place left … is outside.'
'Noods -' Russel whined as she marched off again, dragging him by his wrist.
--
That's the patio done,' she announced, now racing down the hill, peering over to the gold – tinted graveyard.
Suddenly there was a loud bang, it made crows fly up in fright, yet the world stayed still. Russel ran up beside her, shaking his head.
'No -'
Noodle screamed and practically rolled down the hill. Anyone, unless you were two or maybe three, would have recognised the bang as a gun shot. Dodging in between graves, with Russel close behind, they followed the noise with hearts banging and throbbing, desperate to escape.
A small stream of smoke marked the place where the incident happened. Both were secretly hoping someone was shooting pigeons. But as another twist bought them to the edge of the graveyard, their fears were confirmed as the scene rolled out before them.
Sleeping like a baby was a beautiful boy with smooth pale skin.
Ghostly pale. Grey, in fact. His eyelids were a dark hue of storm cloud grey, lips slightly parted. His head was twisted to one side, and there, leaking out among unique azure spikes was a red, sticky mixture. It twinkled in the last ignorant glitters of the sun. It was clotted amongst his hair, trickling onto his face, leaving scarlet tracks.
His body faced up towards the sky, but his legs were twisted comfortably to the same side as his head, to his left. His arms were splayed and his T-shirt wrapped up around his skinny form. Both palms were facing upwards and the plasters from earlier were still stuck on his left forearm.
And lying next to his right hand was a gun. The very same gun he had used on the night Paula died.
And scratched onto his right wrist, in messy capitals, was:-
NOODLE
Ok, I know, short.
DON'T TOUCH ME
Only one more chapter left, well, more of a sequel.
(:
PLEASE REVIEW
You know you Want To …
Q:) TURBAN MAN
Ok, Ok, sorry.
Fiz xx.
