Roxanne

Eyes sullen with revenge stared up at the ceiling intensely, blood masking his sheets. He lay sprawled across the bed, hands tucked behind his head. The sun peaked through the blinds begging for intrusion, shining slits of light against his face. Emerald green eyes studied themselves against the stucco of the ceiling, lost in thought.

Knock at the door. Loud. Aggressive. Assertive. He didn't budge. Didn't flinch. Eyes slowly traced their way toward the door, staring at the doorknob being shaken. The ends of his mouth twitched upward as the screaming elevated on the other side of the door.

”I love you,” she giggled freely, slipping her fingers into his slowly.

Smile played across his lips as he squeezed her hand, kissing her lips gently.

“I love you,” he said in a soft voice, which she threw her arms around his neck, pulling close to him.

“Do you trust me?” she asked wearily, fingers tracing along the back of his neck. His eyes were bright, studied on hers. A thick rim of eyeliner stained his eyelids, staring deeply into her bright, almost purple eyes. Her black hair fell down her back, brushing against his fingers where he had his arms clad around her tiny waist.

“Yes,” he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. She pulled from him and jumped onto the brick flowerbed, towering over him. She held her arms straight out, putting one foot in front of the other. He reached up and grabbed her hand, walking with her. She giggled loudly, jumping off the flowerbed, spinning around and pulling tight against him, kissing him deeply.

The banging grew louder as he picked up a cigarette form his nightstand, taking a lighter and flicking it open. His eyes flickered in the flame of the Zippo, holding it to the lighter; flicking the cap shut and tossing it back onto the nightstand.

He took a deep drag, holding it in as long as he could stand, letting a thick stream of smoke loosen into the air.

“Sir, I'm going to have to tell you to open the door. If you don't open it, we will knock it down ourselves,” a strong masculine voice echoed n the other side of the door. He just stared blankly at the door, drawing the cigarette back up to his lips. Hands stained red like food coloring, he flicked the ash onto the floor.

“Mr. Way, we are armed and ready for anything you have in there,” the voice sounded again, creeping underneath the door and growing in the room.

“Jimmy... Jimmy!” it screamed out, shaking his unaware bones.

”Jimmy we need to talk,” she said through gritted teeth. A look cast over her eyes like no look he had ever seen comes from her. She had been acting different around him, not wanting to be touched as much, going out every night with other people.

“What is it?” he asked, slipping his hands into hers, which she yanked away. She sat on the opposite side of the table from him at Denny's, the time being two in the morning and the restaurant being mostly empty.

The waitress swung around putting two coffees in front of them and a small basket of creams. She smiled with a small “I'll be back for your order in a few,” a thick southern accent clung to her voice. She walked away, her heavy hips swaying softly.

He dumped a packet of sugar into his coffee, stirring it with a spoon that was lying on the table. He took a sip, almost dropping the cup as the liquid scolded his tongue and turned his head spitting it out. He set the coffee mug down, dropping his hands into his lap as he looked back at the girl.

“Jimmy, I'm pregnant,” she said harshly, her eyes flaming with hate. He looked at her in shock, eyes wide with horror. “I knew that's what you'd fucking say,” she hissed through a hateful grimace.

“I... I just.. you're getting rid of it right?” he stammered out, hands shaking with fear. He put them in between his thighs, holding onto them tightly.

“No, no I'm not Jimmy. First of all, I don't have any money. Don't have any money to get rid of it, and sure don't have any money to take care of the bastard,” she said, leaning her elbows against the table and leaning towards him. He examined fresh track marks lining her wrist, tears in the lettering of 'Jimmy' on the opposite wrist. Deep cuts, like she was scratching out the name. Trying to erase the memory.

Jimmy bowed his head, then looked back up at her, face blank, lifeless.

“We're fucking 16, Mary Jane,” he said in a hateful tone, eyes streaked with fear.

She laughed stupidly and shook her head, snarl folding from her mouth.

“You think I didn't realize that, Jimmy?” she said, shaking her head, eyebrows furrowed fiercely. “As much as it looks like it to you, I'm not an idiot.”

“I didn't say that,” he mumbled softly, picking up the coffee and taking a big swig, letting the liquid burn it's way down his throat, tearing at the soft flesh.

“Whatever,” she mumbled and got up angrily, storming from the diner. Jimmy stared blankly after her, swiftly getting up and running after her. Once he was outside, he found her smoking against the diner.

“Go away!” she screamed and he took the palms of his hands, pressing hem against her shoulders, tightly holding her against the brick of the wall.

“You think I'm fucking stupid don't you?” he hissed, eyes raging with angers. His eyebrows were furiously pointing downward into a V shape.

“Ow, Jimmy you're hurting me, you're hurting me!” she screeched, eyes filling with tears as he tore from her, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever Mary Jane,” he muttered walking away angrily. The only sound in the night was he sobbing by the wall and the chain hanging from his pants jingling. He punched the brick wall hard, then again until blood was knotted on his knuckles.

The door was busted down with a swift kick, three big men all pointing guns at him, eyes widening in horror as they looked at the bed in disbelief. They held their guns tightly, as Jimmy just drew in another drag of the cigarette, letting it fall from his fingers onto the floor. He didn't budge, just watched them through unmoved eyes.

“Fucking hell,” one of the men said, shaking his head at the smell of the room. A faint sobbing could be heard outside of the door, his mother screaming loudly he didn't do this, he didn't! Not my jimmy, not mine... babbling on.

A small grin fixated on his lips as he shook his head lightly, laugh bellowing from deep inside his chest. The man looked to one another then back at him.

”So you're the infamous Jimmy I keep hearing about. Sound more like a saint instead of a sinner,” Billie Joe cracked, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

Jimmy nodded slightly, sinking as far into the couch as possible.

“I want to let you know, you can feel comfortable here, it's a safe zone,” the man smiled warmly, looking at the young boy sitting next to him. He noticed the cuts tailoring Jimmy's wrist, polka-dot track marks on the fold of his elbow. “I'm writing about you, remember that. I need you to feel safe so you'll open up and talk to me. If you feel uncomfortable, just say something.”

Jimmy wriggled slightly, eyes looking intently at the red carpet underneath his doc martins. “Do I get paid?” he asked curiously, slowly looking up at Billie Joe.

“Yes, son,” the man laughed shaking his head. “Don't worry, I'm not selling your life without giving you a cut. Are you thirsty? I have some rum in the other room, could mix you a drink,” he gestured and Jimmy nodded furiously. That's exactly what he needed a drink.

“Roxy! Could you make dad and Jimmy a drink for me please?” Billie Joe called out, turning back to Jimmy. There was a faint call of yes daddy, from the other room, then his eyes fixated back on Jimmy. “Where would you like to start?” he asked eagerly, pen to paper on a small notebook he held in his hands.

“It was a real rush, the way the world slowed down and I felt like I could feel it rotate, like I was the one making it rotate. Like that stupid ass ride, uhmm... what's it called?-” he paused for a moment, scratching the back of his head “-do you know what I'm talking about? The... uhhh... tittys-whirl... No... something like that,” his speed was even, not missing a beat. Like it was rehearsed. He was cut short when a girl entered the room with a glass cup in either hand, filled to the brim with ice and a brown liquid. He watched her as her cheeks tinted red, handing her dad one cup, and him the next.

“Oh Jimmy, this is my daughter Roxanne,” Billie Joe said, taking a sip of the drink. “Thanks honey.”

Roxanne lingered a moment to long, her lips slightly parted as she stared into Jimmy's eyes, him looking deep into hers. Finally, she gave a small smile and turned around and walked out. His eyes traced her exit, falling down to her rear. Billie Joe seemed to sense the other man watching his daughter's exit, and quickly started talking again.

“What were you experiencing, Jimmy? Was it the drugs, your girlfriend telling you she's pregnant... what exactly?”

One of the men grabbed him roughly by the arm which he snatched back quickly, crawling out of bed and standing up, well towering the man. The police officer grabbed his shoulder firmly and spun him around, pulling his arms behind his back and slapping handcuffs on him.

“You are under arrest by the state of California. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say...” Jimmy slowly lost him, trailing off into space. His eyes stared down at his bare feet, chest scraped up by the blade lying in his bed, blood soaked. He didn't let the smile shake off his face, not looking anyone in the eye.

The man pushed him forcefully from his room and Jimmy stumbled, hitting the wall and falling. His mother screamed a simple don't hurt him! and was taken off by several other cops to keep her out of the way. Jimmy scrambled back to his feet, the cop shoving him again, and he growled under his breath.

She walked into her room, flipping on the light and nearly screamed, jumping back.

“Love is a myth, lust is society,” said the voice, a gravelly tone that filled her ears. She walked in and shut the door behind her, the familiar feeling of heated red cheeks appeared again as she bit down on her lip.

“You've been listening to your dad and I,” he said, holding a sticky note in his hand with a quote on it. The room had sticky notes pasted all over the walls, little sayings on each of them.

“Yeah,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. He sat up straight looking at her with a deep scowl on his face as he kicked his legs over the side of the bed, sitting closer to her.

“Why?” He asked, venomous tone coming from his mouth as she looked at him with bright eyes, a small smile across her face.

“Because I've never heard anyone put it that way,” she stated softly, chewing down on her bottom lip. His face didn't budge as he watched her, same scowl present across his face.

“You think I'm hot?” he asked abruptly, her eyes shooting over to him to check if he was joking around. She buried her face in her hands, letting out a soft giggle, wrapping her arms around her head.

“Maybe,” she teased softly and looking back up at him, her arms on her legs and her head rested neatly on her arms.

“Do you think I'm joking?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, pointing to himself with an unbinding smile. “Because as far as I'm concerned, this isn't a joking face.”

“Yes! Yes I think you're hot!” She cried out, nervous look coming over her face as she sat up straight, leaning back on her arms for support. He nodded slightly, lips pressed tight into a straight line.

He lent forward and sneaked his hand into her thick mess of black hair and brought her head close to his, pressing their lips together, she scooted close to him so their bodies were pressed up against each other. He lay back on the bed, one of her legs swinging over his lap, straddling his waist.

His hands slid up the back of her shirt, unclasping her bra as the door handle started to shake. She slid off of him quickly, holding tight against him, her arm going up to hold the front of her bra up, lip gloss smeared all over there faces. Her eyes were wide in shock as her mom walked in with an armful of laundry.

“Mom, you met Jimmy! Right?” she asked hastily, gulping fast as her mom dropped the laundry by the front of her door.

“Yes, nice to see you Jimmy. I'll leave you two alone now... Roxanne, be careful now,” her mom said and left the room in a terrified scatter.

She let out a swift breath of air, not knowing she had been holding it. She buried her face into Jimmy's collarbone as he rubbed his hand against the bare of her back, his arm still being up her shot. She looked up at him, and his face was still expressionless.

“Are you used to that kind of thing?”

Jimmy was shoved into the back of the cop car, the sound of his mother wailing in the background. He looked out the window at his dad just standing there, arms crossed across his chest. He rolled his eyes, hanging his head down as he waited for the cops to get back into the car. He watched the cop that had taken him to the car talk to his parents.

Just take me away forever. He thought to himself, letting out a muffled sigh. Nothing left.

Nothing Left.

Dear Diary,

I look at him through big blue eyes. That’s the one thing I got, the one thing I could win you over with. Sometimes I wonder if he can see my eyes, or if they’re in black and white to him.
He takes the needle out, biting down on his lip. I watch him steadily, laying stomach down on the bed he has at his parents. The door is locked and the room is filled with a feverish yellow light coming from a lamp that looks like it’s about ready to choke.
I kick my legs behind me, my eyes glued to the sharp needle, not even noticing that he’s looking at me. I sit up abruptly, biting on my lip nervously just as he was. I scoot behind him; he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his torso, threading my fingers together, pressed up tightly against his back.
I buried my face into the back of his neck, feeling his warm skin against my lips.
“It’s going to hurt,” he said in a sharp tone, trying to change my mind.

I undid my hands and took pointed to a hello kitty tattoo on my right wrist.
“That didn’t hurt,” I cooed softly, my voice muffled by his skin. His shoulders thrust back from my breath tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He wanted to push me away, tell me to fuck off, but he couldn’t.
“I’m not going to help you when you’re sitting over the toilet, puking when you’re hung over,” he warned, taking a small vile from the bed next to him and screwing off the lid. He inserted the needle into the tiny container, sucking up the liquid contents. “You’re expensive,” he muttered to me, tossing the vile. He tapped the needle, pushed the syringe slightly so it squirted over the top. He looked like a doctor, and it was sexy.
I kissed the back of his neck soothingly as he grabbed my wrist, tying an old telephone cord he had cut right below my elbow. He tapped my skin right below the crease of my elbow with two fingers, like a professional. I could see the traces of his blood still on the needle.
“This is romantic,” I giggled, fear billowing in my stomach. He ignored me, sliding the needle into my vein. I bit the back of his neck wincing, and he let me. I could feel the liquid seep into my vein like venom as I used my opposite hand to grab a fistful of his shirt. He pulled out and pressed his thumb to the shot wound, and I let go of his neck. I could feel the substance rush through me like a hurricane, my heart racing with anticipation. Hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I let out sort of a giggle snort.
“What the fuck?” he whispered, smile musing across his lips playfully. I let go of him and crawled to the side of him, pushing him flat onto the bed. He looked at me with excitement racing in his eyes, as I straddled his hips, kissing down the collarbone that was exposed by ripped shirt.
I was one with him; I knew his blood was with me. If he wouldn’t love me, we would be a whole together. I felt him hold me tighter than he ever had, my skin clammy from the effects the drug was having on my body.

The room became fuzzy, and it slowly turned into only him and I. I swear I began to hallucinate; we were in a clean room, full of light. I could hear the ocean off in the distance, Jimmy kissing my neck romantically. He wasn’t letting go. I know that for a fact. I heard banging on the door, and it was all too real that I was in jimmy’s room. We both laughed drunkenly, as we became one that night. It wasn’t the first time we had had sex. We just hadn’t had sex like that.
Passion tore through my body, and it was slow. It took forever to get our clothes off, the most romantic night of my life. More knocking at the door, yelling. We ignored it as we tossed and turned on his bed, trading rolls. I felt like I was somewhere else, I was on cloud nine. There was nothing.
No more were their parents, or siblings, or friends or bad mistakes. There was no Mary Jane or ex boyfriend. There was no jealousy or hate. It was fuzzy, everything.
Then we lay still, his arms so tight around me I could barely breathe, both naked, both lost. The knocking had stopped, for whoever was there had given up. The buzz slowly started to die off after a few hours. I trembled at the feeling of coming off the high.
My body shook tremendously, and he stayed awake with me, holding me right through it. I had a coughing fit, I couldn’t breathe, and my whole body clammed up. His arms stayed tight around me, pulling me close to his warm chest. I was freezing then I became terribly hot.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up.
I was facing him and his eyes were shut, his mouth parted slightly in sleep. I could see a sheer of sweat over his body as the sun beat down on his tiny body. I nuzzled tightly against him, closing my eyes again. The sheets were damp with sweat and my hair was matter. I pulled close to him, kissing his collarbone softly.
I had always known.
But that’s when I knew.
I knew he loved me. He was never going to say it, but that was enough to prove that he loved me.
I was in love with St. Jimmy.

XOXO
Roxanne

Jimmy was shoved into the interrogation room and he sat promptly on one of the cold metal chairs. He looked into a blank black wall, and he automatically felt the eyes staring him down. A cop was filing paper work on the opposite side of the table from him, looking up and over it every now and again. Jimmy snarled under his breath, rolling his eyes as he looked down at his shoes, hands cuffed tightly behind his back.

The cop finally looked back up at him and set the papers down, a stern look approaching his face. He whistled under his breath and Jimmy's focal point didn't change until the cop yelled out “Hey, kid!”

Jimmy forced himself to look up into the cop's eyes, cold sadistic look astonishing his features.

“What was her name, boy?”

She wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, staring off into the night sky from there spot on the beach. Her pants were rolled up as mid-thigh and she had abandoned her shoes long ago. Jimmy rested his chin against the crook of her neck as he stared off over the ocean.

“I love you,” she whispered softly, smile stretching across her face as he loosened his grip around her waist. He nodded slightly, rolling his eyes and looking back out over the ocean, into the dark nothingness of the night.

“Okay,” he said abruptly, and she let out a slightly disheveled sigh, cuddling back into him.

“What Roxanne, what do you want me to say? You want me to lie to you? Say it back to make you feel better?” He hissed in a venomous tone, letting go of her quickly and taking a step back. She turned around to face him, the only ones within a few yard radiuses on the entire beach at that time of night.

“No, Jimmy,” she said, slightly defeated. “That's not what I want.”

“Then what do you want from me? It doesn't seem like anything I do is good enough. You're so fucking wrapped up in your little damn dreamland. Oh, let's get married, oh, let's have kids. Oh, let's move in together. What can I do to shut you up?” he growled out, breathing heavily as he stared her down, her eyes filling to the brim with tears. He didn't feel remorse, the words coming from his mouth feeling right.

“No!” She yelled out, her voice echoing over the beach, soft sobs emitting from her mouth as she buried her face into her hands. “No, I don't want anything from you. All I want is to know I mean something, to know I'm not a rebound girl, to know that you want to be with me. Everyone can see it Jimmy, see you don't care. See you like your using me.”

“You think I'm using you?” he spat out coming close to her. His arms went forcefully around her hips as she tried to push him away. “I can show you, using you,” he said in a soft silky voice. She shoved him away and shook her head. “If you want to think like that Roxanne, go ahead. Because the truth is, I could give less of a shit if I had you or not.”

She shook her head, her shoulders trembling with hate.

“Fuck you,” she hissed and he looked at her with a scowl, his eyes burning into her face as she backed up. She slipped on the sand, falling back, and he was right by her, looking down at her.

“You are not worth shit,” was all he could say to her, then spat by his foot, walking away. Her eyes wavered as she followed him and a fist hit and smacked the sand as tears sped down her face.

“Huh?” Jimmy said stupidly as he looked at the cop. He leant back in the chair and propped his feet up on the cold table top, looking up at the ceiling as the cop stood up and circled around the side of the table. He sat against it, close to Jimmy and looked at the young boy.

“You know what I'm talking about,” the cop said with a sarcastic laughter entering into his voice.

Jimmy shook his head stubbornly and looked up at his feet, perched on the table, shaking his head rapidly. “Not a fucking clue.”

“That girl, she was dead by your bed.”

Jimmy's eyes lit up as his young daughter waddled over to him and gave him a stuffed bear. Jimmy through the bear and watched the girl yell out at him and run after it. His eyes fixed on her as her legs moved quickly, then he smiled again when she brought it back. He picked her up, swinging her up over his head then bringing her down onto his lap, looking up at the TV. He kissed the side of her head as she gnawed on the ear of her teddy bear.

The door creaked open and then shut and his eyes didn't move from the TV. Two arms slid around his neck and a kiss was laid slowly on his cheek. “Hi Jimmy,” the voice whispered in a tired voice as she dropped her purse by her foot.

“Sup Rox,” Jimmy echoed as he looked back at her and she walked around to the side of the couch slipping onto it with him, her hands going up to pull her hair into a loose pony tail. She leant her head against Jimmy's shoulder and looked at the little girl on his lap.

“Hi Storm, missed you,” she cooed in a soft voice, smile spread across her face. The little girl just grunted as Roxanne looked up at Jimmy, his smile fading into his average empty look.

“How long do you have her sweetie?” She asked, squeezing Jimmy's knee softly.

“Dunno,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into the back of the little girl's shirt.

“I don't know what you're talking about?” Jimmy said coolly, his face slightly dimming at the sound. Hi eye went flat as he finally looked up at the cop, cocky look covering his face.

“Right, kid. Like I'm buying that,” the cop said shaking his head. “What do I gotta do to make you start talking?” he asked and Jimmy looked right past him, his face an emotionless palette.

“Who was she?”

Jimmy crawled into bed and Roxanne came in the room, only wearing a bra and underwear. She locked the door so his parents wouldn't come in and a smile as thick as molasses covered her face. She walked over to Jimmy and whispered “I love you” into his ear. He was careful not to respond, his hands sliding up her body.

She looked at him knowingly, then grabbed the knife from the table next to his bed. His face brightened and he couldn't help but let a smile cross over. She opened the blade, looking at the clean shiny metal and handed it to him.

“I want your initials,” she said innocently, lying on the bed beside him. He sat up, taking the knife and pressing it against the skin near her hip until it pierced and she bit down hard on her lip, wincing in pain.J. W. it read, once he was done and he traced the knife up the front of her stomach, not digging into the flesh. She winced again, taking in a sharp breath as she watched him, hands above her head as she looked up into his eyes.

“Kill me,” she whispered softly, her eyes wavering. He looked at her shocked, and shook his head.

“No,” he said sternly, putting the knife down beside him. Tears welled in her eyes as she wrapped both her arms around his neck and he pulled her close, tight against him, afraid to lose the girl. She pressed her lips against his then pulled away, burying her face deep into his bare chest. He could feel the warmth of the tears as she cried and shook her head.

“Kill me,” she repeated softly and he let out a sigh shaking his head again.

“Roxanne, I could never kill you,” he said in a low voice, looking at her lastingly. He held her close, afraid of what she might do as she looked up t him, her once shiny blue eyes were duller then a rusty needle. Her face was slightly sunken in, and she was frail, tiny. Smaller then she had ever been.

She picked the knife up and he gripped her arm and she shook her head, pulling her wrist back.

“I hate this,” she whispered and he took the knife from her, tracing it along the outline of her collarbone. She gulped steadily, holding onto him tightly. “Do it,” she whispered. “Do it.”

He took the knife and traced it down her stomach, then up again, playing along the edge of her throat.

“I love you,” she coughed out as he made a deep line against her throat, blood spilling out as he eyes rolled back and she went limp in his arms. He looked at her, not afraid. He held her tight, against his body.

I love you.

Jimmy inhaled deeply and hung his head, dropping his feet the ground. He looked like an aged porcelain doll underneath the bright lights.

“Her name was Roxanne, she was the love of my life.”