Status: Finished
God Bless the Children of the Beast
Indians and Mexicans dance in my head
I wasn’t sure if it had been hours or weeks since I’d seen society. I had found my sanity, and through him I found his sanity; heroin. Together we could be happy. Now that he had me to share his drugs and emotions with, Nikki seemed a lot happier, as was I when I was with him. It wasn’t long before I had forgotten all about that stupid band I used to be in. I was much happier right here with Nikki and Crue.
It was a typical morning when I woke up. I sat bolt upright in a cold sweat, my head turning from side to side, alert for danger. Nikki was passed out beside me. I shook him, not in any gentle way, as I tried to wake him. “Nikki!” I yelled, my eyes crazed as I searched around. “Nikki the Indians are back, wake up!” He stirred, making a noise somewhere between a yawn and a moan. “Nikki wake the fuck up!” I screamed, bashing his head with a pillow. Within a second he was awake beside me, searching. “What, what is it?!” He yelled. “The fuckin Indians are back!” I yelled, terrified. He scratched his head with a yawn, tangling his already unclean black hair. “Sami I swear the heroin gets to you worse than it does me.” He said, holding me tightly.
Once I finally calmed down however, his demons set in. Within a couple minutes he was unsure of himself, unsteady, and shaking. We did some Coke but that did no more than it usually did for us these days. Soon we were again shooting up. He was instantly calm, centered, in a better place. I watched with fascination as his vein turned a deathly shade of purple. Then the insanity began once again. In no time flat we were bunking in his closet, screaming about Mexicans and Indians while Nikki pointed his gun threateningly under the door. We crawled around on the floor, peeking out windows and barricading the doors. We finally collapsed in each other’s arms sometime that night. Then we’d wake up an hour later, attempt to eat, puke it up, fuck, and sleep. The entire charade would repeat the next day.
One day I found a TV and a remote in his heroin den, and being momentarily sane I decided to turn it on. I was surprised to see my face on the flickering screen. “And so,” continued a blonde anchor-woman, “the question the world has been asking for two weeks now; where is Sami?” I scoffed. Two weeks? I had knocked out Jake only a few days ago, hadn’t I? Speak of the devil, his face appeared next on my little magic box. “I know exactly where she is.” He snarled with a look of both anger and worry on his face. I was almost sure he was faking the worry part. “She’s holed up in Van Nuys with Nikki Sixx in his *bleep* heroin house!”
I numbly lifted up the remote enough to turn the TV off. “Ignore him.” Nikki said from behind me, startling me. I turned and looked up into his clouded green eyes. He stared back at me blankly. I glanced down slowly, noticing the scars on his arms and how his skin was turning an almost see-through shade of olive. I’d heard a rumor that he died of an overdose, only to wake up in a dumpster not too long ago. Could I save him? Could I save myself?
I hugged him, running from my problems as I usually did. He held me close to him, although I could never tell why. Did he love me, did he want to keep me safe, or did he simply need someone to hold to keep himself from cracking? I knew one thing for sure. If one of us cracks now, we both will. I felt panic and tears set in as I held him. What was I doing? I had left my band, my dream, for what; this? Was I doomed to die in a soulless, underfed body with my only friend whom I hadn’t known since childhood? I dug my nails into his skin and started shaking my head. “Get out!” The voices screamed. “Save yourself!” Behind those screams, if I listened hard enough I could hear whispers. “One more.” “Get a fix.” “Do it.” And underneath all of that, so low I would have missed it had I not been insane already, “You love him.” I sobbed as I felt the familiar metal stab into my arm. “Nikki.” I whined. He yanked the needle out of me and lifted my chin up, forcing me to stare in his eyes. I blinked tears out of my vision and said again, “Nikki.” “Shh.” He cooed, sitting on the floor and holding my head to his chest. He rocked slowly, staring into empty air. My arm grew warm, then my chest, then bolts of lightning shot throughout my body. I cried into his chest, wondering who to blame for all of this. Wondering how I could love such a decrepit Hollywood scum. I had one realization before I was teleported into my crazed reality; I’m doomed.
It was a typical morning when I woke up. I sat bolt upright in a cold sweat, my head turning from side to side, alert for danger. Nikki was passed out beside me. I shook him, not in any gentle way, as I tried to wake him. “Nikki!” I yelled, my eyes crazed as I searched around. “Nikki the Indians are back, wake up!” He stirred, making a noise somewhere between a yawn and a moan. “Nikki wake the fuck up!” I screamed, bashing his head with a pillow. Within a second he was awake beside me, searching. “What, what is it?!” He yelled. “The fuckin Indians are back!” I yelled, terrified. He scratched his head with a yawn, tangling his already unclean black hair. “Sami I swear the heroin gets to you worse than it does me.” He said, holding me tightly.
Once I finally calmed down however, his demons set in. Within a couple minutes he was unsure of himself, unsteady, and shaking. We did some Coke but that did no more than it usually did for us these days. Soon we were again shooting up. He was instantly calm, centered, in a better place. I watched with fascination as his vein turned a deathly shade of purple. Then the insanity began once again. In no time flat we were bunking in his closet, screaming about Mexicans and Indians while Nikki pointed his gun threateningly under the door. We crawled around on the floor, peeking out windows and barricading the doors. We finally collapsed in each other’s arms sometime that night. Then we’d wake up an hour later, attempt to eat, puke it up, fuck, and sleep. The entire charade would repeat the next day.
One day I found a TV and a remote in his heroin den, and being momentarily sane I decided to turn it on. I was surprised to see my face on the flickering screen. “And so,” continued a blonde anchor-woman, “the question the world has been asking for two weeks now; where is Sami?” I scoffed. Two weeks? I had knocked out Jake only a few days ago, hadn’t I? Speak of the devil, his face appeared next on my little magic box. “I know exactly where she is.” He snarled with a look of both anger and worry on his face. I was almost sure he was faking the worry part. “She’s holed up in Van Nuys with Nikki Sixx in his *bleep* heroin house!”
I numbly lifted up the remote enough to turn the TV off. “Ignore him.” Nikki said from behind me, startling me. I turned and looked up into his clouded green eyes. He stared back at me blankly. I glanced down slowly, noticing the scars on his arms and how his skin was turning an almost see-through shade of olive. I’d heard a rumor that he died of an overdose, only to wake up in a dumpster not too long ago. Could I save him? Could I save myself?
I hugged him, running from my problems as I usually did. He held me close to him, although I could never tell why. Did he love me, did he want to keep me safe, or did he simply need someone to hold to keep himself from cracking? I knew one thing for sure. If one of us cracks now, we both will. I felt panic and tears set in as I held him. What was I doing? I had left my band, my dream, for what; this? Was I doomed to die in a soulless, underfed body with my only friend whom I hadn’t known since childhood? I dug my nails into his skin and started shaking my head. “Get out!” The voices screamed. “Save yourself!” Behind those screams, if I listened hard enough I could hear whispers. “One more.” “Get a fix.” “Do it.” And underneath all of that, so low I would have missed it had I not been insane already, “You love him.” I sobbed as I felt the familiar metal stab into my arm. “Nikki.” I whined. He yanked the needle out of me and lifted my chin up, forcing me to stare in his eyes. I blinked tears out of my vision and said again, “Nikki.” “Shh.” He cooed, sitting on the floor and holding my head to his chest. He rocked slowly, staring into empty air. My arm grew warm, then my chest, then bolts of lightning shot throughout my body. I cried into his chest, wondering who to blame for all of this. Wondering how I could love such a decrepit Hollywood scum. I had one realization before I was teleported into my crazed reality; I’m doomed.