Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My Name is Violet Rage

18 Silence

by FlyingSmoke 2 reviews

The Party's back, and the Vi's abused again.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2011-03-25 - Updated: 2011-03-26 - 1773 words - Complete

Party Poison

That’s all I heard as I peered into darkness, as if I went deaf and blind. I could still think, but if I did, violent memories shocked me and made me scream out in pain. Occasionally I heard a voice break the silence, or a moving picture flash across my eyes, leaving me very confused. ‘What’s going on?’ would run through my head, promptly followed by acute pain and a female’s voice saying, “I’ll miss you, Party Poison.” I didn’t even know who Party Poison was, but if I wondered, more violent memories would attack my conscious mind, and I didn’t like the pain.

I must have sat in the darkness for a while before I saw an angel. She was beautiful, running towards me, huge, fawn colored wings slightly open behind her running form. She was slightly tanned and toned, with a crooked nose, wide, green eyes, cupids bow lips, and short purple hair that was partly spiky and partly wavy. She was wearing a slightly frayed and very thin blue and pink scarf, a dusty and slightly red-stained grey tank top, very dirty orange criminal pants, and worn, brown combat boots. I looked away, as it hurt to look at the angel, no matter how beautiful she was.

She came running up to me, not making a sound. I looked back at the angel, her face creased with worry. I looked down into the darkness, seeing the feint form of my shoes in the light radiating off of the angel, and shut my eyes. The angel was too perfect for me, I thought, making more painfully violent memories knock me down to the dark ground.

The angel bent over me, laying a hand on my arm, warming me up with her gossamer touch. Her hand felt hot on my skin, but very heart-warmed, not angry-hot.

“Party?” the angel asked in a velvety voice, with a slight huskiness. I opened my eyes and looked at her painstakingly. The angel’s green eyes geld despair and worry within them, making me want to comfort the angel but unable to move out of the pain of thinking and seeing the angel.

The angel sighed. “Party, you can’t hide in the darkness forever,” the angel said, and I turned away from her, cheeks burning and head hurting. I felt ashamed of myself for making the angel think I was hiding.

“I’m not hiding,” I grumbled softly, shutting my eyes tightly. “I’m merely facing the fact that Party Poison is gone out of me.”

The angel snorted. “Mmhm. Because facing the fact that you think you’re gone, but really not, is hiding from the world for three months.”

I sighed, knowing if I argued I would end in pain from thinking. “Who are you anyway?” I asked, looking at the angel square in the face, making my head throb with pain.

The angel smiled. “I, Party Poison, am Violet Rage, right now in Battery City, being tortured by Korse and the ass holes he calls friends.” I cried upon hearing the angel’s name and story. “I’m also your ticket outta here, outta the dark. So unless you wanna stay here, slowly dying of lack of sleep and lack of food, you might wanna listen to me.”

I looked at the angel, confused. “I’m not dying,” I said quietly, racking my mind for the last time I ate some food, causing me thinking pains. The creases in my forehead grew, as I couldn’t remember the last time I ate.

The angel nodded. “You see, Party, you’re in severe depression, which is what this dark world is. You’re so depressed that you forgot about life, and just shut your eyes, mostly dead but still breathing alongside your feint heartbeat. I was the one to cause that.”

I watched the angel as she said that last sentence. She couldn’t have been the cause of this, I thought, receiving pain in my head. She’s too perfect. “No,” I said firmly. It can’t be her that did this.

The angel nodded sadly. “I walked, remember, Party?” she said, making me try to remember and yet forget. Sharp pains attacked my mind and shook me as I remembered the angel, without her fawn colored wings, walk away from a confused me, smiling a sick grin. I remembered Mikey run up to me after I fell to my knees, watching the angel walk away from me, into the desert as calmly as my mother used to buy groceries.

I whimpered as I remembered and shut my eyes, willing the pain and the angel to go away, to fade, anything, just as long as it ended.

“You know why, Party, don’t you?” the angel asked solmnenly, and I shook my head, pain spreading all over my body and making me sick. The angel spoke slowly. “I went insane.”

I promptly opened my eyes to the angel’s words, but not to see the face of the angel. I saw Mikey’s, Frank’s, and Dr. D’s worried faces looking at me instead. Light was shining in my eyes, and I blinked, wondering idly with a dimming pain if that was the angel out of the darkness.

“Party Poison?” Dr. D asked me, looking at me with worry and concern. I nodded slowly, head heavy with pain, and Mikey fell upon me, stifling me with a massive hug and crying like a little girl who got her kitten back after it’s been lost for months, no hope of it returning. “Welcome back kiddo,” Dr. D said, making me glare at him and him roll himself out of the room. “I’ll leave you guys alone. I gotta go do an important broadcast anyway.”

As Dr. D left, I noticed I was back at the diner, I was laying on the table where the guys and I normally ate, and I had a mustache and beard covering my face. “Mikey, did you happen to grow a beard at all?” I asked, half joking and half wondering how long I was in the darkness with the angel.

Mikey continued to cry and hug me while Frank left my side for a moment, returning with the mirror normally on the floor. I blinked at the man staring back at me with my hazel eyes. His hair was black, unwashed, messy, and very long. He had a full-blown mustache and beard combo, untidy and covering some parts of his thin, yellowing face, but not all. I blinked, again and again, touching my face and witnessing the man in the mirror do the same. I gasped, still touching my face as lightly as the angel had touched my arm.

Frank swallowed, still holding the mirror and still looking worried. “You were out for three months, Gerard. We had nearly lost all hope of you even making it through.”

I continued to touch my face, only hearing half of what Frank was saying. I still couldn’t get over the fact that I had a beard, and had completely lost all the red dye in my hair. I creased my face in worry. “So what’s happened since I’ve been dead?” I asked Frank and Mikey, struggling to sit up with Mikey still hugging me, his tears soaking my shirt. Ray and Bob had walked in the room, making it a house party.

“Mikey, what the hell is--- holy shit,” Bob said, surprised. Ray looked equally surprised, but said nothing. “Gerard?” Bob asked me, he walking over to the table slowly, Ray trailing him.

I nodded with somewhat difficulty, as Mikey was still hugging me, pinning me down to the table, and my head throbbed like it was run over by the Death Machine. “Hey, Bob. Hey Ray,” I said, weakly smiling at the shocked pair.

Bob walked over to my side but Ray left the room, making me wonder if this was as hard for him as it apparently was for Mikey. I looked at said Mikey, coughing to get his attention. “Mikes,” I said, “if you want me to live, you have to get off me. I can’t breathe.”

Mikey nodded and reluctantly let me go, wiping his eyes and allowing me to sit up weakly to face the guys. There were so many question I had to ask, but one at a time. “So… What’d I miss?” I asked the guys, smirking as my stomach growled, making me pat my stomach. I gasped. I was skinnier than a cactus I saw one, no bigger than my thumb.

Mikey was the first to finally speak. “You need food first. We’ll tell you everything while you eat.”

Violet Rage
I whimpered as Korse hit me again with his wooden club, his favorite tool this week. I still didn’t know what I was being beaten for, but whatever it was, it was deemed worthy of a heavy beating by Korse himself.

Korse hit my misshapen, black-and-blue face once more, making my nose bleed and me to cry out in pain. He then dropped me from the position he was holding me in, hand around the neck, and smiled. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he growled, and walked out of the cell I was kept in, setting the club down in its normal spot by the door. I lay on the ground in a crumpled head, crying, as one of the guards of Battery City shut the door to my cell with an airtight pop.

I managed to crawl into the wimpy bed I was given before collapsing and stop moving, like I normally do after each beating or rape. Korse did this nearly every day, three times a day, as square as my meals and pills. I didn’t get BL/ind pills like the rest of the people in Battery City, though, but got birth control pills and some other kind of pill so I didn’t get a monthly.

It was grueling work, trying to keep breathing as Korse beat me. I did get lucky occasionally, though. Sometimes Korse wasn’t able to do his routine, as it was interrupted by something about ‘killjoys’, whatever those are. Normally I just slept while he was gone, embracing the silence and doing nothing else.

I always fell asleep thinking of all these ‘killjoys’, wishing I was one of them, away from Korse’s beatings and all these pills, away from the hazy sky over Battery City, away from Battery City.
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