A/N: Ok, this is my first JTHM fanfic so don't flame me if it sucks. I also
know that when authors here write songifcs, they usually all do the SAME
SONGS. And I cant say I blame them. The songs they choose are usually very
fitting. But these are songs that NO ONE HAS DONE YET YAY!
With that said, I bring you my first songfic, "Turn the page!"
-This takes place after the seventh comic, when Johnny is out on 'vacation'.
Turn The Page
(All along a lonesome highway, East of Omaha, You can listen to the engines roarin' Out a one note song, And you think about the woman, The girl you knew the night before.)
He was thinking about her again, he could see her face so clearly. It had been days, months, years maybe since he last seen her, but her last words echoed still in his head. Johnny quickly shook them away and turned up his car radio, drowning them out. He wanted to forget what he had done in his past, he decided. Being a homicidal maniac was not an option anymore. But still, quitting killing was like quitting addictive smoking. The urges were now more powerful then ever now that he was trying to make them stop.
(But your thoughts will soon be wanderin' The way they always do, When you're rindin' sixteen hours, And theres nothing much to do, Cause you don't feel much like riding, You just wish the trip was through.)
Nny took a sharp turn into the parking lot of a ratty old diner, and parked his car close to it. For awhile he didn't get out, just sat in the silent car checking to see if the voices were still there. They weren't. He nodded, then got out of the car.
(Here I am, On the road again, There I am, Up on the stage, There I go, Playin' the star again, There I am, Turn the page.)
He walked into the diner, and as soon as he did, he felt the hundreds of eyes turning to him. Most disturbing maybe was that, there was only a few people in there. The two waitresses, the cook in the back, and the few people scattered here and there around the diner. Nny ignored them, keeping his gaze onto the floor, until he got up to the table.
"What'll it be hon?" Asked the rather unattractive, fat waitress at the table.
"Just a coffee please." He said quietly.
The waitress sauntered off, and in moments was back with a rather dirty old mug. Nny sat, looking into his coffee, waiting. Waiting for the voices. It never failed, every time he tried to go into a public place they started. Sometimes he felt like slapping himself because he never bothered to shut them up. Sometimes he let them chatter on, because sometimes.. It felt good.
They started as soon as he felt a pair of eyes on him again. They had stopped looking once he sat down, but here it was again, and it seemed to be staring at him.
(So you walk into this restaurant, Struck out from the road, And you feel the eyes upon you, As you're shakin' off the cold, You pretend it doesn't bother you, But you just want to explode.)
He sat waiting, waiting for the moment. He stared down at his reflection in the coffee, noticing how tired and pale he looked. 'No wonder they're staring at you, he thought, you look like total shit. They probably already know what you're planning, you stupid fuck.
And that's the way it went sometimes. The voices were mad at him cause he left, cause he was trying to think for himself, cause he wasn't killing. All Nny wanted was to be free of the torment, but even when he was alone he was being made fun of. It hurt so much..
(Yeah most times you cant here em' talk, Other times you can. Of the same old clichés, Is it woman, is it man?)
And you always seem outnumbered-
He couldn't stand it
But you don't dare make a stand.
No More.
Make you're stand.
NOW.
Nny lept up from his table, spilling the coffee and other contents onto the floor. He ignored the surprised gasps, and listened joyfully to the horrified shrieks of everyone as he whipped out the gun. People screamed and ran, but as they got up, he shot them. Nny personally hated using guns, but kept one as a backup for times like these. There were to many people and it was too open for help for him to use knives. A nice secluded 'middle- of-nowhere' place like this, no cops would come till dawn.
He shot everyone in the diner, making sure to get them before they got to the telephone. Not that he needed to worry about cops, he had nothing to lose. Once he was out of bullets, he dropped the gun back into his coat pocket, then pulled out the lighter fluid.
(Here I am, On the road again, There I am, Up on the stage. There I go, Playin' the star again, There I go. Turn the page.)
(Out there in the spotlight, You're a million miles away, Every once of energy, You try to give away, As the sweat pours out your body, Like the music that you play.)
He hummed softly the song he had heard on the radio before he got there, as he drained the box of lighter fluid all over the place. He stood at the doors, looking down at the mess he created, then dropped a lit match and torched the place. He left it behind to burn, then got back in his car and drove away. The voices were silent. They were pleased.
-Later that night.
Nny stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room, lying quietly on the bed. He was tired, but he wasn't necessarily trying to get to sleep. He was trying to ease himself back into sleep, but it was still hard. Too many nightmares. The room was very dark, except for the dizzying light from the television. It was silent though, there was no sound on it.
For the second time that day, Johnny found himself thinking about her. About Devi. She probably hated him for leaving, dispite what she said the last time he called her.
(Later in the evening, As you lie awake in bed, And the echoes of the amplifiers, Still ringin' in your head, You smoke the days last cigarette, Remeberin' what she said.
What she said.)
Her words rang loud and clear:
"Johnny, please don't hang up. I need to talk to you.. I'm sorry.. I Love You."
(Yeah Here I am. On the road again, There I am. Up on the stage, There I go. Playin the star again, There I go, Turn the page.)
Nny then realised he was crying. He let the tears stream down his face, then threw himself into a fit of frustration. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he hung up? Why had he left? Why didn't he go back and see her? Why did he hurt those people? Why did he enjoy it? Why? Why? Why? WHY? WHY?????!!!!!
Yeah! Here I Am. On The Road Again. Yeah There I Am. Up on that stage. There I go. Prayin' to be a star again. There I go. There I go.
There I go. Turn the page.
There I go. Turn that page.
There I go.There I go.
And I'm Gone..
-This takes place after the seventh comic, when Johnny is out on 'vacation'.
Turn The Page
(All along a lonesome highway, East of Omaha, You can listen to the engines roarin' Out a one note song, And you think about the woman, The girl you knew the night before.)
He was thinking about her again, he could see her face so clearly. It had been days, months, years maybe since he last seen her, but her last words echoed still in his head. Johnny quickly shook them away and turned up his car radio, drowning them out. He wanted to forget what he had done in his past, he decided. Being a homicidal maniac was not an option anymore. But still, quitting killing was like quitting addictive smoking. The urges were now more powerful then ever now that he was trying to make them stop.
(But your thoughts will soon be wanderin' The way they always do, When you're rindin' sixteen hours, And theres nothing much to do, Cause you don't feel much like riding, You just wish the trip was through.)
Nny took a sharp turn into the parking lot of a ratty old diner, and parked his car close to it. For awhile he didn't get out, just sat in the silent car checking to see if the voices were still there. They weren't. He nodded, then got out of the car.
(Here I am, On the road again, There I am, Up on the stage, There I go, Playin' the star again, There I am, Turn the page.)
He walked into the diner, and as soon as he did, he felt the hundreds of eyes turning to him. Most disturbing maybe was that, there was only a few people in there. The two waitresses, the cook in the back, and the few people scattered here and there around the diner. Nny ignored them, keeping his gaze onto the floor, until he got up to the table.
"What'll it be hon?" Asked the rather unattractive, fat waitress at the table.
"Just a coffee please." He said quietly.
The waitress sauntered off, and in moments was back with a rather dirty old mug. Nny sat, looking into his coffee, waiting. Waiting for the voices. It never failed, every time he tried to go into a public place they started. Sometimes he felt like slapping himself because he never bothered to shut them up. Sometimes he let them chatter on, because sometimes.. It felt good.
They started as soon as he felt a pair of eyes on him again. They had stopped looking once he sat down, but here it was again, and it seemed to be staring at him.
(So you walk into this restaurant, Struck out from the road, And you feel the eyes upon you, As you're shakin' off the cold, You pretend it doesn't bother you, But you just want to explode.)
He sat waiting, waiting for the moment. He stared down at his reflection in the coffee, noticing how tired and pale he looked. 'No wonder they're staring at you, he thought, you look like total shit. They probably already know what you're planning, you stupid fuck.
And that's the way it went sometimes. The voices were mad at him cause he left, cause he was trying to think for himself, cause he wasn't killing. All Nny wanted was to be free of the torment, but even when he was alone he was being made fun of. It hurt so much..
(Yeah most times you cant here em' talk, Other times you can. Of the same old clichés, Is it woman, is it man?)
And you always seem outnumbered-
He couldn't stand it
But you don't dare make a stand.
No More.
Make you're stand.
NOW.
Nny lept up from his table, spilling the coffee and other contents onto the floor. He ignored the surprised gasps, and listened joyfully to the horrified shrieks of everyone as he whipped out the gun. People screamed and ran, but as they got up, he shot them. Nny personally hated using guns, but kept one as a backup for times like these. There were to many people and it was too open for help for him to use knives. A nice secluded 'middle- of-nowhere' place like this, no cops would come till dawn.
He shot everyone in the diner, making sure to get them before they got to the telephone. Not that he needed to worry about cops, he had nothing to lose. Once he was out of bullets, he dropped the gun back into his coat pocket, then pulled out the lighter fluid.
(Here I am, On the road again, There I am, Up on the stage. There I go, Playin' the star again, There I go. Turn the page.)
(Out there in the spotlight, You're a million miles away, Every once of energy, You try to give away, As the sweat pours out your body, Like the music that you play.)
He hummed softly the song he had heard on the radio before he got there, as he drained the box of lighter fluid all over the place. He stood at the doors, looking down at the mess he created, then dropped a lit match and torched the place. He left it behind to burn, then got back in his car and drove away. The voices were silent. They were pleased.
-Later that night.
Nny stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room, lying quietly on the bed. He was tired, but he wasn't necessarily trying to get to sleep. He was trying to ease himself back into sleep, but it was still hard. Too many nightmares. The room was very dark, except for the dizzying light from the television. It was silent though, there was no sound on it.
For the second time that day, Johnny found himself thinking about her. About Devi. She probably hated him for leaving, dispite what she said the last time he called her.
(Later in the evening, As you lie awake in bed, And the echoes of the amplifiers, Still ringin' in your head, You smoke the days last cigarette, Remeberin' what she said.
What she said.)
Her words rang loud and clear:
"Johnny, please don't hang up. I need to talk to you.. I'm sorry.. I Love You."
(Yeah Here I am. On the road again, There I am. Up on the stage, There I go. Playin the star again, There I go, Turn the page.)
Nny then realised he was crying. He let the tears stream down his face, then threw himself into a fit of frustration. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he hung up? Why had he left? Why didn't he go back and see her? Why did he hurt those people? Why did he enjoy it? Why? Why? Why? WHY? WHY?????!!!!!
Yeah! Here I Am. On The Road Again. Yeah There I Am. Up on that stage. There I go. Prayin' to be a star again. There I go. There I go.
There I go. Turn the page.
There I go. Turn that page.
There I go.There I go.
And I'm Gone..