Murdoc had been lying on his bed smoking a cigarette and listlessly flipping through a porno magazine when he heard a knock on the door of his Winnebago. It had to be past midnight and he wondered who the hell had dared to come bother him at this hour. Whoever it was knocked again. "Stop that bangin' I'm coming!" He shouted irritably, tossing the magazine to the floor and rolling out of bed. He opened the door, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight he saw behind it. Russel was standing there in his pyjamas, supporting a very intoxicated looking Cameron with one of his arms. The large man said tiredly and with some annoyance, "Murdoc, I have no problem with you inviting chicks over this late, but please, please let them in yourself. I'm fucking sleeping, man." Murdoc simply nodded, still too surprised to get mad at the drummer for lecturing him like a naughty child. He let his eyes drift to Cameron. She was standing there in what he assumed to be her pyjamas, an oversized grey t-shirt that reached almost to her knees and black boots. She had her green coat thrown haphazardly over the shirt and she looked like hell. Her hair was tangled, her eye make-up smudged and she looked more pale and sickly than usual. He could tell she was definitely drunk out of her mind and probably extremely high too from the way that her eyes briefly rolled back in their sockets every time she blinked.
Now, she was looking up at him. "I wanted to see you." She slurred with a sluggish smile. "I ran all the way here." Russel noticed that Murdoc's hands were clenched, from anger or from something else, he couldn't tell. He turned to the bassist with a questioning glance, worried about him and the odd girl hanging limply off his large arm. "Uh… everything okay man?"
"Everything's fine, Russ." He said, taking Cameron's arm and guiding her into the Winnebago. "I'll take it from here. Thanks mate." At this point the drummer was filled to the brim with confusion, but he was too exhausted to ask questions. He shook his head and shrugged, deciding to wash his hands of the whole matter and stumbled back up to his room. Murdoc led Cameron to his bed and sat her down, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked, more puzzled than angry. Cameron lay down and shut her eyes. "I told you, I just wanted to see you." Now, Murdoc began to feel somewhat displeased. She had no right to discard and then visit him whenever she felt like it. She couldn't call the shots. That's my job, dammit, he thought.
Cameron clutched her stomach and groaned, crawling into fetal position. Murdoc rolled his eyes, frustrated by his own inability to ignore the worry he felt for her despite his exasperation.
"How much have you had, Luv?" He asked, sitting on the bed next to her. He hated the almost fatherly concern in his voice.
She sighed, burying her head in his pillow. "Not enough. Bring me something to drink?" She mumbled hopefully.
Murdoc shook his head. "Is there such a thing as enough with you?"
"Don't be a hypocrite." She said. Silence. "Really, I haven't had that much." She lied. Against his better judgement, Murdoc reached under his bed, pulling out a half full bottle of rum and passing it to her. There, he thought, convinced. I don't care what happens to her. I'm not her father, I'm not her boyfriend, let her get more fucked up if that's what she wants. Cameron appreciatively took a few large sips, passing the bottle to Murdoc, who also drank, then gave it back.
"I mean it, Cameron. What do you want?" He said tiredly.
"Tha's the first time you've called me Cameron." She slurred, ignoring his question. "You usually call me "Luv" or something." She took another sip. Murdoc realized that she was right. He used pet names for almost every girl he shagged. Calling them by their real names felt too intimate. He took the bottle from Cameron, tipping the it upside down and chugging.
He flopped down on the bed beside her, looking into her pill glazed eyes. "Why do you do drugs?" He asked. Not that Murdoc had to ask why people did drugs in general, he knew better than anyone the limitless pleasured they brought. But he wanted to know her reasons. He wanted to satisfy his curiosity of knowing what fucked her up. He wanted to find out if his theory was correct and she really was the product of a Sebastian Jacob Niccals of her own. Cameron was silent for a few moments. "Because," she started hesitantly, "they make me feel alive and they make me feel numb. They make me happy, and they make me sad. They make me feel beautiful and ugly and important and insignificant and powerful and weak."
"Well Luv, I could have told you that."
"I don't have to think when I'm high. I can detach myself from my mind. It's easier that way. Can we go for a walk? It's really hot in here." The buzzing of voices in her ears were starting to return, and she needed air.
Murdoc shrugged, standing up. He had long since accepted the fact that he would probably not be getting any sleep tonight, though he was still not too sure he was happy about it. Part of him wanted to help Cameron, to somehow find a way to fix himself through fixing her. The other part wanted nothing to do with the strange girl who blindingly reflected his deepest insecurities, demanding acknowledgement.
The outside air was cool. Cameron had, not surprisingly, snorted some more pills before they left, and she was now clumsily walking along the curb of the sidewalk with Murdoc, occasionally tripping on imaginary pebbles and stumbling. She'd offered him some of the white powder back in his Winnie and he had accepted. He thought back on the first night they met when he'd declined her offer. How messed up must a person be to be a bad influence on me? He thought, his musings suddenly interrupted by Cameron falling to the ground without warning, having gotten one wobbly leg tangled in the other. Murdoc helped her up, somewhat caught off guard when he saw that she was crying. "What, uh, what's wrong?" He asked uncomfortably.
Cameron's face contorted under the yellow glow of the streetlights, trying to hold back her tears. "You- you need to stop doing that." She said, her voice uneven.
"Doing what?" Murdoc had no idea what she meant.
"You can't keep being- being nice to me. It's not fair! You're making me lo-" Cameron stopped herself before she could finish her sentence. She wouldn't tell Murdoc that she loved him. "Hit me." She suddenly demanded.
"What?" Murdoc asked, flabbergasted, wondering if he'd heard her right. She was such a headfuck.
"HIT ME!" Cameron shouted wildly, "YOU HAVE TO HIT ME!" She ran at him, uselessly punching his chest with her weak fists. "I NEED TO HATE YOU!"
Murdoc restrained her. "What in Satan's name are you going on about? What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled in her face, shaking her roughly. Cameron had a crazed smile on her face. "Hit me." She repeated. "Tell me I'm worthless and that you want nothing to do with me."
"Get away from me!" Hollered Murdoc, thoroughly daunted by her lunatic behaviour. She was not to be deterred though, coming at him with more force, shrieking in his ear: "Punch me, kick me, please please please PLEASE, HIT ME, Murdoc, please!" Murdoc tried to back away but she kept following him, coming closer and shouting louder. "HIT ME!" She screamed. He couldn't take it anymore. He did. It wasn't hard or dramatic, just a flat slap falling dully on her face, but it stunned her into silence for a few moments. Murdoc couldn't believe it. He was no stranger to violence, but he had never once struck a girl. He mistreated women in many ways, but never this. He stepped back. What came over me…? He looked at Cameron. She made him do things he didn't understand. This was her fault. A wide, maniacal grin was spreading quickly across the feline features of her face, though. She didn't look upset, she looked victorious.
"What kind of masochist are you?" He breathed, taking a step away from her.
"What kind of sadist are you?" She countered, stepping towards him.
"I ain't no sadist…" Murdoc said uncomfortably as she pressed her body up against his.
Cameron kissed him softly on the lips, testing how it made her feel. She pulled away, fury etched on her face. "GODDAMMIT!" She cried.
Murdoc was baffled. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me what the fuck is going on, right now." He growled. Cameron panted, each one growing heavier and more audible. They weren't the pants of lust that Murdoc usually heard leaving her mouth. They were the frenzied pants of madness. Her eyes were wide, crazed, piercing. Suddenly, she tore at her hair and screamed. No, thought Murdoc, not screamed. It was something else. Like a scream, but more. Exponentially more. A scream reaching such a multitude of rage, horror, agony and torment that a word strong enough to express it did not yet exist. Thousands of chills ran up the length of Murdoc's spine. The animalistic noise was one that Murdoc often felt rising in his own throat. Sometimes he was barely able to keep it down. He was painfully aware of what suffering it took to produce such a scream. When her mouth finally closed with a pitiful and heart wrenching sob, she fell to the ground. She curled into a tight ball under a pool of light cast by the streetlight overhead and quivered.
Murdoc stood motionless, paralyzed by what he had witnessed. He finally took a step towards the shaking figure on the pavement, reaching down to touch her. Cameron flinched, then looked up at him. "I love you." She moaned painfully, each word writhing in her strangled throat before crawling out her lips like an injured animal. Murdoc's mouth fell open as his eyes fixated on the pathetic creature in front of him. She was staring piteously up at him, looking like a small, helpless kitten. Everything about her was forlorn and feeble. The dark circles under her eyes, the tear stained face, the defensive way she clutched her knees tightly to her chest, almost as if she were trying to fold herself up small enough to stop existing. Murdoc knew he should say something to the unstable girl, but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Cameron nodded her head acceptingly and shakily stood up. She gave Murdoc a doleful smile, then raised her hand in a half-hearted wave. She turned, running away into the night as fast as her heavily sedated body would take her.
/
Confusion in her eyes that says it all.
She's lost control.
And she's clinging to the nearest passer by,
She's lost control.
And she gave away the secrets of her past,
And said I've lost control again,
And of a voice that told her when and where to act,
She said I've lost control again.
And she turned around and took me by the hand
And said I've lost control again.
And how I'll never know just why or understand
She said I've lost control again.
And she screamed out kicking on her side
And said I've lost control again.
And seized up on the floor, I thought she'd die.
She said I've lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
Well I had to phone her friend to state my case,
And say she's lost control again.
And she showed up all the errors and mistakes,
And said I've lost control again.
But she expressed herself in many different ways,
Until she lost control again.
And walked upon the edge of no escape,
And laughed I've lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
I could live a little better with the myths and the lies,
When the darkness broke in, I just broke down and cried.
I could live a little in a wider line,
When the change is gone, when the urge is gone,
To lose control. When here we come.