Okay, so first things first, shout outs to the following three people who have made my day with their reviews:
Brit-Babe191- thanks again for reviewing, I read your story and its great! :)
Darkfantasy16 -Glad you're hooked, more dark Rogue to come. Nice new name and here's another shout out! LOL
NyahLi1-Is under pressure originally a David Bowie song? I had no idea, well I know he's in the Queen version and it's now stuck in my head too!
Disclaimer - I don't own the Panic at the disco song that's mentioned, fortunately ;)
I'm Going Slightly Mad
"Kid, Kid!"
What the heck is happening? Where is that racket coming from and why is it in my bedroom?
Opening my eyes and squinting at my current surroundings, I see a very tall and hairy shape peering down at me. No, I'm not in my bedroom. I can't be, that's a tree over there I think. I don't have any trees in my room, do I?
My silly eyes are just being disobedient, I mean why else would my vision be so blurry. The shape is coming closer towards me now and it's brushing the hair out of my face.
It has such a gentle touch, yes, a touch is such a phenomenon in my life, although I really don't know why. All people are able to touch, aren't they?
"Kid, answer me, damn it." The shape can talk, how perplexing.
I have never felt so peculiar in all my life. I mean I'm tingling from head to toe. That's not normal, as least I think its not. What was in those pills? You just wait till I get a hold of that guy. You know the one, I'm currently dating him, I think.
Is this what they call a bad trip? Someone must really hate me up there, others get the standard pink elephant, me, I get some absurd talking shape.
"Marie, what the hell have you taken?" I don't understand, the shape knows my name but why is it now yelling at me. I thought shapes were polite and well mannered. Shapes and shadows obviously need to take people skills training… Communication training, or do I mean leadership skills? No, this shape already has a mouth and all that jazz. A very BIG mouth.
"Nothing" I lift my arm up and try to swat the annoying shape. That strange intrusive shape needs to learn some manners. I'm sure it's Mother would be ashamed. You can't just go around shouting at random people, its impolite.
"Cut it out! Now what have you taken? Your pupils are huge."
They are? Aw, how fantastic, I'm a girl with huge pupils. That reminds me of a certain song I know. I never have a chance to express myself musically.
"Your eyes are the size of the moon, you could cause you can so you do..." Why is the shape not joining in? It's my hallucination and it should be pulling on a sparkly dress, singing, singing and singing. Ugh, I'm so tired all of a sudden, "Go away shape, leave me to sleep in peace."
"Hey, come on stay with me. No you don't, keep those eyes open." The rude shape is slapping me around the face. How rude. "Good girl, keep em' open. I need to get you to Hank, can you walk?"
Why would I want to walk? I happen to be very comfortable where I am. Yes this concrete is more than satisfactory to lay on. I also have a perfect view of the moon from here.
"Can you see the man?" I question the idiotic shape, hoping it doesn't slap me again.
"What man?"
"The man in the moon." I remember being told that story when I was young, well much younger then I am today.
"Shit, kid, will you just concentrate on gettin' your ass up!" Now the shape is pawing me. If this is an hallucination, what does this say about the state of my mental health.
"I'm hot and cold, shape. How is that possible?" I don't understand my body. I'm shivering one minute and sweating big old bug eyed bullets the next.
"You better be okay, darlin', cause' I'm gonna kill you when you snap out of this."
Hey, I'm floating, floating to the man in the moon. My blurred vision and sleepy eyes glance up and there's a chest, some leather too. Oh the shape is carrying me, once again how very considerate of it. The motion is making me sleepy though. The shapes arms are more comfy then the concrete. My eyes close and I don't mind if the shape wants to take me to it's lair and eat me. I only want to sleep.
I begin to stir awake, the starchy, scratchy sheets sticking to the drool on my chin. Why do people have to be so loud when I'm trying to sleep. Nobody has any common sense in this damn mansion, their heads are so far stuck up their own butts.
"So, she'll be okay, then?"
Where the hell did that come from? Oh, no, I'm in the God damn med lab again. I hate it in here. I always feel the urge to either burn the place down, or crack open a tin of fluorescent pink paint. The walls really could do with a lick of paint, I hate the colour white. It does little for my confidence when I match in with the walls. Although, it could also be considered as a bizarre attempt at camouflage. You know, in case someone like a six foot, two inch tall mass of adamantium and muscle strolls in here looking for me.
That concerned muffled group of words sounded a lot like Storm. She has this way of coming across extremely motherly, but without the sprinkle of disappointment and guilt trips.
"I believe so, yes. However, I had to pump her stomach free of its contents, to be on the safe side. Our Miss Rogue is very lucky Logan found her when he did."
And that would be Hank, the furry blue… Damn, Logan found me? How don't I remember that part and when did I get back to the mansion? I know for a fuzzy fact I left Doug's apartment yesterday some time between twelve noon and five in the morning. I just don't recall the journey in between, the arrival or Logan at all. Jesus, I bet he went on a growling frenzy. He was probably in his growling element.
"What was she thinking?" That's Storm again and I bet she's pacing outside in the corridor. I'm so thankful they're both not in here right now. I don't think I could take it, my stomach's a little iffy and my throat hurts.
"I think we'd all like to know that, but as I informed Logan, she needs her rest. The interrogation will have to wait until she wakes." Why, thank you Dr. Henry McCoy. I think I should buy him a present. Something that screams; You saved my life and I love you for it. "Now, Ororo, I suggest we both get some sleep ourselves."
Finally it's safe to sit up, I heard their footsteps faintly disappearing towards the elevator. I absolutely hate the med lab, it makes my toes curl. I wonder if it's Logan's influence on me, he dislikes the place too. It's just so clinical and uninviting. The beds are uncomfortable too. And when Hank knows I'm awake he's going to want to poke, prod and ask me multiple questions all at once. I don't like being prodded and then Storm will lecture me.
Anyway, I need a shower and a clean change of clothes because I'm off on a one woman mission to throttle my brainless, loser of a boyfriend. It's easy to sneak out of the mansion, especially when you run so fast, you're sure you've pulled every muscle out of place. I learnt that trick from Johnny, he always did run after insulting Logan.
"Doug, answer the fucking door because I'm not leaving. I swear I'll camp here if I have to." It's half eight in the morning and now I'm the one airing my dirty laundry in public. Guys, they are all such stubborn jerks that need to be beaten into submission. Oh and I'll beat him alright. "Open the door you pathetic excuse for a human being!"
Ha, here he comes, I can hear him unlocking the bolts on the door. It's about time to, I swear his next door neighbour is about ready to call the cops on the loud mouthed girl that woke the entire neighbourhood up.
"Baby, what are you doing here?" He mutters, his dishevelled head poking out of the door and looking as rough as I feel.
"You look like shit, Sugar."
He's kind of cute with his whole just woken up look and he's got a six pack to die for. Look at that chest hair, it's like candy floss… Am I drooling again?
"It's been a rough night, come in. How were those pills?" He shuts the door and leads me towards the couch, gesturing for me to sit down. "I took one last night and was as sick as a dog for hours."
"One! You mean... and I? ... Oh my God!" I collapse on the couch dumbfounded and release a rather momentous sigh. I was only supposed to take one but I went and took all four at once. So I effectively went and overdosed on a small illegal amount of narcotics which lead to me passing out and having my stomach pumped. Well, that's certainly not a story I will be telling the grandkids. That's if I ever make it to a ripe old age.
"How many did you take, Baby?"
I shoot a dark glare at Doug and he falls silent. Surely drugs should come with an instruction manual? Hell, I'd settle for reading 'Drugs For Dummies'. Am I really that naïve? I lived on the streets alone for months, that should count towards something.
Before I can shout at my soon to be ex boyfriend about how he could have explained the etiquette of popping pills. The door is kicked open, off it's brass hinges and in marches a positively murderous Logan.
Okay I admit it, I'm terrified. What the hell do I do now, is it too late to make a run for it?