Chapter Six, Part 1: Forgive Me
Johnny rested his head on his hands, his heart overwrought with grief. He had come to an epiphany within the last few hours, and now in the bleak hours of dawn, he could hear nothing in his house. No voices other than the soft treading of Devi's feet on the ceiling above him, and her erratic breathing pattern. He frightened her, but he didn't even dislike her. In fact, he felt he loved her even more. It was a strange feeling.
She didn't love him though. She had no intentions to ever forgive him. He knew that if he were to let her go, he'd fall like a star from the sky and be extinguished. By letting her go, he'd both be giving himself into the hands of the law and losing his only true love.
He wrung his hands in despair.
A floor above, Devi knelt on the floor and put her ear to the wood, listening to him. " I know you're there." Devi said. " I'm hungry. At least feed me, if you want to keep me here forever." She thought to herself, please give it with toothpicks. I want to kill myself.
Johnny stood and went to his kitchen. With a tenderness flowing through him, he began to prepare some soup in a pan. He opened the can it came in, turned the can over, and let the cylinder-shaped glob slide out. He mashed it apart with a knife and then placed it over the heat. Soon the smell of simmering chicken-noodle filled the air.
Devi hugged her sides in her room, feeling her stomach grumble. She was hungry, and tired, but she didn't want to sleep. She felt that the moment she'd allow herself to sleep, he'd kill her.
He went to the room he held Devi in and slipped the bowl underneath it, along with a spoon. "Enjoy." He said, sadly.
" Fuck you!" Devi exploded. " How can you even expect me to enjoy anything?" She stared at the rounded edge of the spoon and sighed. " Can't they make spoons with serrated edges or something? I can't kill myself with this…!"
" Devi." He said. " I don't hate you."
" Well, I hate you, so fuck off."
" Why?" Johnny asked. " I haven't really done anything to you yet."
" You've tried to kill me!" Devi said.
" Yet I saved your life." Johnny countered.
" But you made an attempt at my life!"
" So? You tried to kill me too… remember? You beat the stuffing out of me." Johnny told her.
Devi was silent. " You hear voices."
" So did you."
" Stop making me look like the one who should reevaluate the situation! You have me locked inside a bedroom, you bastard!" She roared venomously.
" I would let you out without a second thought if I could. Yet I know you'd run to the police and tell on me. Can't you let me try for a relationship again?" Johnny asked. " I mean… I guess I can change…"
" You can't just erase something like that out of your personality!"
" Erase something like what?"
" You're a psychopath! A schizophrenic murderer!"
Johnny stood there in awkward silence, feeling a growing weight on his shoulders. He was getting pissed off again, and he wondered if it wouldn't be too much of a big deal to just kill her and free his mind of this nuisance. Something else made him want to stick it out, just to see whether there was an alternative ending for him.
" Hello? Are you there?" Devi asked.
" Yes."
" I'm done." She shoved the bowl out from beneath the door. " Leave me alone."
Johnny took the bowl and stared at it.
" I could really use to go to the bathroom." Devi said, finally. " You might as well prove that at least you're not an animal by letting me go use it."
" I…" Johnny knew that, as far as girls go, they had special needs when it came to bathroom use. Suddenly he regretted not building in a bathroom adjacent to the bedroom when he had the chance. His eyes narrowed and he stood up, opening the door.
Devi jumped to her feet and tried to race past him into the hallway. Johnny grabbed her hands, holding her still, and led her to the bathroom, tossed her in and closed the door.
He heard her shuffling around. Then, she sighed loudly and said, to herself: "Shit!"
" What's wrong?" Johnny asked.
" Nothing." She grumbled with a fury tinting her voice. She let out a blood-curdling, angry shriek. " This is just… un-fucking-believable. I am now pissed off beyond any boundaries."
" What's wrong?" Johnny asked again, feeling a sudden flash of cold sweat cross over him. This was getting just a bit weird. Everything had gone wrong with his plan so far, and there was just no way he could get Devi killed, nor get her on his good side. He wondered how long it would last before he'd cave and let her go.
Devi sighed. " Can't I have any privacy, damn it?"
Johnny shrugged. " I can go."
" Go!" She shouted. " I hate the idea of you listening in on me."
" Are you sick though?" Johnny asked aloud.
" No… well… okay." She let out a deep breath. " You wouldn't happen to have any tampons, would you?"
o-o-o
The Author Steps In
While Johnny is Out Shopping for Feminine Products
o-o-o
I don't know if my readers care to hear about my dull life, so I will just pop in here and see if you do. This story begins as of now. This is sort of a true story, sort of not true.
I was walking down the street when some old lady stopped me. She just literally jumped in my path, and you know how huge old lady's tits are. She just literally leveled me with her cantaloupes. There was a moment of awkward silence and then I said, " Excuse me."
" Where do y' think you're goin'?" She demanded, putting her hands on her hips (if she could find them through her skin).
I looked down at my black-and-red lace shirt for inspiration. I had a little iron-on button pinned to it. It said 'Life's a Bitch and Then You Die'. I figured that this would be a good moment to reflect on how bitches rule most people's lives anyway.
" Well? Think you can just stroll your way down the street dressed like THAT?" She demanded.
I don't think I was dressed too awfully. Maybe it was the black nail polish that upset her. Or the fact that my black scarf dangled to my knees, just level with my huge boots. I shrugged and said: " I have to roll in the garbage can." I motioned at the garbage can standing on my front lawn. I was getting impatient.
" It's kids like you that ruin the neighborhood, y'know? Bringin' in your gangs and stuff."
" Gangs?" I spun around on my heels while blinking and breathing simultaneously. Yep, I'm one of those multi-taskers. "I'm drunk on art, for Crissake. I don't even do drugs."
" You don't look like a good student though." The woman tried lamely.
Nasty old women are really mean to me sometimes. " I have a 5.33 GPA. Straight A's. All Honors and College courses, and I'm a sophomore. I'm sorry, but I'll just shut up before I brag about all the scholarships I'm piling." I turned away and started to head home.
" Your parents look like nice people!" She shouted at me.
" Nice touch." I muttered.
" How dare you whisper inaudibly!" She shrieked. She raised the bazooka she had oh-so-subtly hidden in her monstrous cleavage. " I'll blow you to hell, Goth kid!"
I blinked. I do that a lot. Really!
" I don't know how they can let you dress like this! And paint your fingernails black!" She fired the bazooka.
Perhaps it was fate, but I caught the bazooka missile by using the gap in Madonna's front teeth. Horrifyingly loud applause ensued. Because of the pure nuisance of the James Bond theme song, I was driven into an insane cackle, and I tapped the bazooka missile, and the shrill voice behind "Die Another Day" had gotten no mercy to die, indeed, another day. I blew up all the tapes and CDs, that is, not the person. The person just won't leave the spotlight.
The only reason I wrote that whole last paragraph was because the stupid song was playing on the radio.
I sighed and stared at the sunset. There were some pretty huge flocks of crows flying around. " It will rain." I whispered, eyeing their flying patterns. Indeed, a rainstorm began just then. I like rain. I turned around and told the annoying old lady: " You really aren't that fat. You're just experiencing a cell surplus. Or… oh wait! … you're just upsized petite. Yeah." Filled with excuses for society's own lack of care for their health, I moved inside my house and sat down.
Then my parents took me to church. I wore my Nny shirt. It was weird that the priest recognized the shirt and even said he read the comics. I don't know whether I should be traumatized or not. Anyway, many hours later, and I mean many, I realized I had to actually finish writing this story.
I like fried cauliflower. I just ate some. Maybe it's unusual to fry cauliflower at midnight. I haven't befriended anyone normal enough to know.
o-o-o
Chapter 6, Part 2: The One That Got Away, Take Two
Johnny knocked on the bathroom door. " I bought your… eh… vaginal harpoons, or whatever they're called." He knocked again. " I killed the store guy because of you. He said that he always knew I was a woman." He paused for effect, then whispered: " The asshole!"
He stood there idly. " Devi, you alive?"
There was no reply from within the bathroom.
" Uh… well, odds are, you could have fallen off the toilet and gotten paralyzed." He thought aloud. " That means I'd have to come inside and untwist your spine."
There was still no reply.
" So if you're in an incriminating position, I promise I'll look away." Johnny rambled on. He had a bad feeling inside. " So, uh… I'm coming inside now. So…"
He pushed the bathroom door open and stepped inside, both eyes closed. He opened one eye and looked around the floor to see if Devi was lying anywhere in a crippled heap. Then he looked at the toilet. There wasn't anything there other than some dust.
He glanced at the bathroom window. The only window he forgot to board up. It was wide open. The curtains were billowing into the room in the cool breeze.
" Damn it!" Johnny shouted. " Damn it!" He grasped at his stomach, which suddenly twisted into a worried knot. He raced out of the bathroom frantically and yanked out a tampon, smacking it against his wrist. " I want to die!" He moaned, jabbing it down. It bent in half. " What the fuck…?" He realized what he was doing and dropped the box of tampons.
The house stood in an ominous silence.
" She's going to call the cops!" Johnny wrung his hands in despair. " I'm done for! Well, I won't let them! She won't win this one… she denied me. I would have taken her back. I did everything to make her forgive me. No, death is the ultimate defeat. No…" He paced frantically, tearing at his hair in fury. "No! I won't let the cops get me! I'll kill myself, that's what I'll do!"
" Johnny."
" Nail Bunny." Johnny whispered.
" You're releasing your inner Psycho-Doughboy again… the desire to end your life, rivaled by the desire to keep going, just to keep tormenting yourself with how miserable life is." Nail Bunny's voice droned. The little Bunny head floated up over his shoulder.
Johnny shivered in fear. " I'm over with."
" Run, Johnny. You can still make up for your erring ways. You can still…"
" Where do I go?" He shouted. " Where can I go? I don't have anyone's house to stay at… and… and Reverend Meat was right. The cops can get me now. I'm not a flusher anymore!"
" Remember the Johnny that had once painted such sensitive, beautiful artwork?" Nail Bunny asked. " That Johnny was rational. He hadn't the blood of many innocents on his hands. Back then, you truly had only murdered your true persecutors, real assholes. Now you have strayed too far." Nail Bunny shook his head. " As your own conscience degraded, you built up a powerful defense against reason and emotion."
" What're you trying to say?"
" Think. You saved Devi's life twice. She does owe you that much." Nail Bunny said. " Try and see if she'll call the cops. The moment some sort of search for you is announced on TV or the radio, you can split then. But stick it out for now."
Johnny nodded finally. " I'll stick it out."
" You should really rediscover yourself. Try painting." Nail Bunny muttered. " See, I would do that too, if I had any arms…"
o-o-o
Chapter 6, Part 3: Unsure
Devi huddled into the blanket and picked up the phone. She felt a series of painful thoughts, and then she dialed Ian. The phone rang.
" Hello?" Ian answered.
" Ian!" Devi blubbered out, feeling her eyes mist over with tears. " Oh, God…"
" Devi!" He exploded. " I've been trying to call you for two days now! I asked Tenna and she said you've never even been back to your apartment."
" I…" She shuddered. " I was just…" She couldn't bring herself to say it. Johnny's tired, worn face played before her eyes, and she could feel his cold hands burning at the area where he touched her wrists, even now. Devi couldn't understand why, but trying to blame him would be difficult. She knew he was simply too far gone, too irrational. She heard him reading aloud from his dairy at night, she heard his thoughts and ideas. He explained to her things from his own point of view in these two days. Though she completely and utterly hated the way he was, she also sympathized, and even felt a bit jealous that he could so freely exterminate his problems. Yet, she knew it gave him more and more problems, and that led him down a spiral into doom.
Ian ranted on, along to the sound of him slurping what had to be his trademark tapioca pudding: "I heard about the killing in the bookstore, but they all said that you, you sort of struck back and killed the guy. This is all crazy rumor, but eyewitnesses say that it was you who did it."
Devi realized Johnny must have threatened the witnesses. Oh well, he wasn't entirely rooting for her, he was also looking out for himself. " I…" She wondered if she should deny it. He saved her life though. It was all so difficult to decide! " I had to fight back. Self-defense, you know?" She laughed hoarsely.
" You did pretty well. Too well." Ian coughed uncomfortably. " Pretty bloody scene you left. So… so I guess you just ran?"
" Yeah." She said, affirmatively. " I was worried stiff that they'd think it was my fault. I, uh… I hid in a hotel for a while, but I'm back."
" Good. Good." Ian sighed. " You could have just called me. I dabbled with some law, and I'd have told you that self-defense is not a crime… OH GOOD LORD!" A loud explosion rocked in the background of Ian's house. " SHIT!"
" What the hell was that?" Devi exclaimed.
" Nobody told me you can't heat grapes in the microwave!" Ian shrieked.
" Why on Earth would you do that?" Devi spat.
" Don't tell me what to eat and not eat!" Ian grumbled. " I happen to like warm grape juice squeezed into my tapioca, okay?"
" Excuse me, I'm having a crisis here, and you heat up food? As if this is some sort of movie you're watching?" Devi shouted.
" I was hungry! I thought you'd take a while to get it all out, you know, just share with me. Then we can be on the road to emotional healing." Ian explained.
" Why don't you just grab some popcorn and pull up a chair, Ian?" Devi screamed into the phone. " And stare at the phone awhile. Maybe you'll get a life." She slammed the phone down, seething. She wouldn't cry; only weak girls cried. Girls who sat at home Saturday nights and couldn't get a date. Girls who tried out for the cheerleading team and didn't make it.
She blinked a couple of times, clearing her range of vision, and then picked up the phone again. She had to do something. Call someone, join some side. She knew that the longer she tried to linger in the middle, the more Johnny could kill. But would she do more damage by calling the cops, or by trying to "soothe" him?
She stared at the phone, wondering who to call.
The cops… or Johnny?
Author's Note: I am so sorry! There is so little humor in this chapter! I happened to enjoy the angst-factor, and if you didn't laugh once during this chapter, I'm sorry. :-) Please tell me in the review if it was funny enough… I think the next chapter will be more humorous… I didn't have time to come up with any nonsensical ramblings for a Happy Noodle Boy issue, and I don't think Johnny had the time to draw it anyhow.
By the Way! Did any of you see a photo of Jhonen ever? *rowr* Excuse me, but the guy's very good looking. *stops talking realizing that her reviewers had long ago backed away and logged off the Internet* Well, okay then. I'll go write chapter 7 now. I'll try to write more of this when I'm not a zombie.
(Today's Discussion topic: Insomnia… a curse or the creative mind's blessing?)