FicWad

Surprise.

”He likes me.” What Party just said is running through my head, making me realize so much, yet so little. What Party said confused me.

Party sighed, taking notice of my stunned silence. “That’s why he keeps hugging me, holding my hand, and getting angry when I’m with you. He wants to be with me,” Party said quietly.

I opened my mouth to say something then shut it again. I opened my mouth again and asked, “Is that why he got all mad at me in there when you came over and hugged me?”

Party nodded solemnly. “He’s jealous, as kiddish that sounds. I know he likes me and it hurts me to see him in depair, but…” Party trailed off, turning redder than he ever has before. “I think I like you.”

I blinked a few times before I processed what Party said. ”I think I like you” hung in the air between us. I wanted to just hug Party, right there, and never let go. That or victory dance. I chose option one, still not saying anything.

“I think I’ve liked you ever since Tim first took you to meet the rest of us. You just looked so amazing, and the topics we talked about that night confirmed my suspicions,” Party mumbled into my hair, but I still understood what he said. I still didn’t say anything though.

Party sighed again. “Please say something.” I shook my head, not trusting my voice if I still had one. Instincts kicked my ass mentally and forced something out: “Thank you.”

Party took his face out of my hair and looked at me, confused. “I knew there was a reason why God wouldn’t let me die in all those bar fights and Drac-runs I had,” I said, my gaze cast down to the ground and my voice cracking at my partial lie. I did know God wanted me for something… Just not this.

Party pulled me back into the hug. I felt so happy and yet afraid. What was going to happen now?

Party read my mind again and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll always be there for you, promise,” he said, and that when I began to cry softly, mostly from joy that I was moving on. There were still some things I wasn’t ready for, and probably won’t be for a long time, but this was a start.

We stood there for I don’t know how long, just hugging and me trying to stop the silent tears. I felt somebody’s gaze on us at times, but if Jet or Ghoul saw us, they didn’t say anything. I did feel Kobra’s gaze on us though. It felt… Happy. I smiled to nothing and put my head in closer to Party’s neck.

We finally broke apart, and when we did, there were shadows dancing on the ground. I panicked, not know where I was for a second, but I remembered. My arm still felt sore, though, and I winced as I turned away from Party to go pack up the tree.

Party grabbed my shoulder, but this time a lot softer than he did yesterday when he was trying to stop me from running. “Does your arm hurt?” he asked, looking at me with some worry, but not as much as the love in his eyes. I nodded, and he walked me to my love. He opened the trunk where Kobra was leaning, and Kobra began to smile.

“What?” I whined at him playfully, biting my lip as Party carefully took off the bloody bandage I had on my right arm. “Are you jealous?”

“Oh no, on the contrary, I’m quite happy for you two. I think it’s good that Gerard’s finally getting some action,” Kobra teased, but I paled at the word ‘action’, and Party glared at Kobra in that pissed way of his. Kobra seemed to notice that and quickly said, “I mean like all these hugs and kisses... And…” Kobra coughed and blushed, walking away.

I was still pale when Kobra left. He had said ‘action’ like I was some kind of hooker. The sick feeling I had in the pit of my stomach turned to anger towards him and Party. I looked over at Party, who was still digging around in the trunk for another bandage, eyes narrowed. “Why did he say ‘action’?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

Party pulled his head out of the truck into my cool face. “He’s a dick for saying that,” Party said, anger eminent in his eyes too, but for not the same reason as me.

“You’re not telling me why,” I said, still walking that thin line of anger and murder.

Party sighed, and that was the only confirmation I needed to know Party wanted some. “You’re fucking kidding me!” I yelled, having heads turn towards me, but I didn’t care. The one that I liked wanted sex with me, after what he’s learned? Oh hell no. “You are fucking kidding me,” I said, beginning to angry-laugh. “You… You thought you could get through to me by doing all this shit and make me believe that you liked me?! FUCK YOU!” I yelled, and I saw Party’s eyes grow moist, even though his face was still the picture of calm.

I turned to Kobra. “And you! Thinking you could help Party get some ‘action'! Just to let you all know, I’ve been raped so many times I’ve lost count," (here I saw the all of the guys’ jaws drop) "and sex is the last thing on my mind when I meet a person and start to like them. Not for you though. No, you expect sex, just like any other ass hole here or anywhere! FUCK YOU ALL!” I yelled again, and stormed off to my truck, turning it on as I had just began to climb in. I drove away as fast as I could, looking in the rear view mirror at the guys. Party was still standing there, no doubt disappointed that he didn’t get a quickie before I left. Fuck him. Fuck them all. Fuck the whole wide world. Fuck life.

That last thought shocked me. I never thought suicidally. But here I was, so angry and sad I was shaking, thinking that suicide would be the best for me right now. I felt my face grow wet, and I noticed I was crying. I didn’t wipe away the tears, though. Might as well have my last cry.

I looked at the gas meter. My truck never did good in the fuel department, and it was empty. “Fuck,” I muttered, and pulled over. I looked in the rear view mirror, checking for my love that I might have to shoot at. Nothing. I sighed and rested my head on the steering wheel, letting it all out. If I died, nobody would care. I would just be another Killjoy gone to most. Maybe even a burden off their shoulders. I began to cry harder, knowing my life would have been wasted on so many things that went wrong. I never went to college. I didn’t lose my virginity the way I wanted to. I didn’t get the job I wanted. I never had kids. I never had a loving family… The list kept growing as I kept crying my eyes out.

After a while I stopped crying and just sat there, head on my steering wheel, truck running on empty. I sighed, knowing if I wanted to go any farther I would have to gas up. I slowly climbed out of the truck and walked over to the right side when I saw something on the horizon. I narrowed my eyes at it, and there it was: Korse’s car. I laughed out loud. [This was just fucking super./] I gassed my truck up and went back to the truck, strapping Ricky to my inner right thigh under my pants and my ray gun to my left, both with batteries around each strapping. It hurt like hell to sit down, but I managed to make it look like I had no weapons. I sat patiently, waiting for Korse’s wrath. If I got stuck, I would just end my life, so no more pain.

Korse’s black car finally pulled up beside my truck’s left side, and he, in all his paleness, got out of the passenger’s side and walked over to the driver’s door, where I was sitting. “Well well well, look at who this is,” Korse said, calm tones in his voice, walking around the car. I got out, and seven Dracs raised their guns at me. I put my hands up, walking out to the middle of the dirt road. “If it isn’t Violet Rage, looking quite sad, I might add.” He chuckled. “Tired of life, Violet?”

“Look, if you want to kill me, go ahead. I have nothing,” I said, meaning every bit of it. “Just don’t make it drone out forever. I would like to die quickly and painlessly.”

“Oh?” Korse said, smiling his sickening smile, reminding me of Tim. “But where’s the fun in killing you if it will just give you the satisfaction? No, I have better plans in store for you.” With that, Korse raised his right hand and flicked his index and middle finger at me, sending two Dracs on me to tie me up and put me in Korse’s car.

Party Poison
I sat on one of Violet’s crates, not saying a word, elbows on my knees, index fingers covering my mouth, thumbs holding my head up, rest of my fingers clasped together. She had been raped more than once by Tim? She thought I wanted to use her for sex? She thought I really didn’t like her? I blinked once, feeling numb. Mikey paced around me, Frank stood silently, Bob and Ray sitting on the ground, staring at it intently, probably trying to make it move.

“Mikey, will you stop?!” I finally yelled, using his real name, getting tired of his pacing. Four heads turned towards me, and Mikey stopped pacing, looking hurt and confused. I didn’t apologize though. It was his fucking fault for his choice of words in the first place.

“I was just thinking…” Mikey said, frowing.

I got up and walked outside to the Death Machine. Nobody followed me. Good, I thought, now I can do this alone.

I sat down in the Death Machine and cried. I don’t know how long, but for me it felt like forever. I thought about all the things Violet could have done to herself already and that made me sick to my stomach. She could have cut herself. She could have taken the BL/ind pills. She could have killed herself. I cried harder in that last thought, knowing it was probably the one she went with. I felt a hand rubbing my back, and I looked to see who it was, half expecting it to be Violet, either really there or as an angel. It was Frank, though. I turned back to put my head in my hands again. “Fuck off, Frank,” I said, not wanting to see him right now. He was always making things complicated.

I still felt Frank rubbing my back though. “Fuck off Frank,” I said again, sterness marking my tone, strengthening it. He just continued to silently rub my back, worry painting his face, but his eyes distant. “Frank!” I yelled at him, jolting him out of his trance. “Stop it! Fuck off!” I pushed him out of the car and put my head back in my hands.

I heard him walk off, and then I started crying again. I fucking hated it when I did this. I pushed the people I loved away when I should be bringing them closer. I felt my body heave, and I turned my head outside the car's doorframe in time to vomit on the ground instead of in the car. When I finished though, I didn’t pull my head back in the car. I just sat there, body leaned out of the car, feeling numb again. She was probably dead by now, laying in the desert peacefully, razor still in her cold, lifeless hand, cuts on her arms saying, “It’s all your fault.” That would have been 34 cuts, each 1 inch at the most, enough blood loss to kill her after the 10th cut, but she would have still continued until her job was done. Why? Because I’m an ass for believing in love, or anything like it. For believing in life.