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

23 Blasts

by FlyingSmoke 1 review

Oh, the mistakes Violet's made...

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Gerard Way - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2011-03-31 - Updated: 2011-04-01 - 2035 words - Complete


I shot my eyes open as I felt Party's arm around me grow tight and saw the blast go over my head. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu---

Another blast by my head, over my face. "Party!" I whispered, wishing I could jump up and shoot the hell out of whatever was shooting at the diner. I felt my thigh, out of automatic instinct for my ray gun, but then I remembered that I wasn't in my clothes, but rather a button down shirt, nothing else.

Party turned towards me and put a finger to my lips, making me silent. He then reached his free hand down to his holster, pulling out his gun and giving it to me. I looked at him, confused, but Party nodded and I understood.

I crept up ever so slowly, gun in hand and aim in mind. I hadn't crouched up three inches before I saw the Dracs surrounding the diner. I smirked, knowing every one of these ass holes would be dead within the hour. I glanced around the diner's rooftop, searching for another weapon, and smiled upon seeing a sniper rifle.
I tossed Party his gun and crawled over to the sniper rifle, picking it up and testing the scope. Mhmm, in perfect condition. I nodded to Party once, smirked, and aimed at Drac one.

I took a deep breath in, swallowing any fear I may possibly have. My eyes shut, and I pulled the trigger.

I opened my eyes at the chorus of blasts aimed everywhere, looking down at my target on the dusty ground, laying in a neat pool of blood. I smirked and aimed at another Drac, shooting the thing in a heartbeat. The rest just came on whim.

My kill count was up to two-thirteen when I saw the bald head gleaming in the harsh sunlight. My breath hitched, and I crawled back from the edge of the rooftop, leaning back against the short wall up there and breathing heavily.

Party crawled over to me, looking worried. "Violet, what is it?" he asked, touching my arm.

I cringed away from his touch, making Party look hurt. I shut my eyes and lay on the rooftop, pressing my back against the wall, breathing short, stout breaths.

"Fuck," Party said, and I heard him shuffle away from me. Ray gun blasts appeared closer to me, but I didn't open my eyes to see if they were headed my way. I heard yelling, and more gun blasts, and then I opened my eyes into the face of Tim.

I scooted away from Tim walking over to me, his sickening smile on his face. "Jen, I've missed you so much," he said, crouching on his toes to stroke my scared face. "Why'd you go and kill me when you knew you still loved me?"

I screamed as Tim kissed me on the cheek, running his tongue over my bruised face. He yanked me into his rough, stifling arms, and kissed me hard on the neck, making me thrash and attempt to get away from Tim and his sandpaper tongue. I shut my eyes and turned away from Tim, not wanting to see what he was doing. I felt somebody shaking my shoulders, and my eyes shot open, wanting to find Tim's member so I could cut it off.

I looked into the thin, yellow face of Party, all concerned and looking at me with worry. I continued to scream, still feeling Tim's rough tongue over my skin. Party pulled me into his chest, letting me scream into his chest. Blasts were all around the diner, but a lot of them were coming from my left ear. I felt Party's shirt grow wet beneath my eyes, and I didn't realize I was crying heavily into Party. I shut my eyes and curled into Party's lap, wishing I could be in my clothes again. Party leaned over me, stroking my hair and shushing me. I shut my mouth and my eyes, putting my arms around me. Party kissed me lightly on the cheek, stroking my rust hair and smoothing it out. I continued to shake in Party's lap.

Finally the blasts subsided and Party put me in his arms, standing up shakily. He walked over to the rooftop's ladder and setting me down. "I'm sorry, but I can't carry you down on a ladder," Party said, looking genuinely apologetic.

I blinked but stepped to the ladder, hoping I would be able to go down without any problems. I turned towards Party and gave him a weak smile, receiving a worried smile in return. I put my first foot on the rung below, and I bit my lip, continuing down the ladder. I tenderly reached down To the second rung, gaining confidence. I realized how cheesy this all looked, but for the moment I just wanted to touch the ground with my bare foot and get my old clothes on.

I finally touched the ground, and that's where I stood until Party climbed down, my arms crossed and calm returning. As soon as he touched the ground, I cracked a smile. "Can I get my clothes now?" I asked Party, not so serious sounding, but drop-dead serious. If I were back in my clothes, I would feel like a normal human again, like I did in the old days. Wow, 'old days'. Do I already have those? Or are my 'old days' days before my Killjoy beginning?

Party nodded, sympathy making up most of his face. He walked over to me and started to move his hand forward, towards me, but hesitated and put his hand back down by his side, walking into the building, me following him closely. We walked into the main part of the diner, where the guys and Current were fixing themselves up from the fight. Party scanned the room, looking for a sign of my clothes, and walked over to the couch, pulling my clothed out from under Current’s jacket and a big mascot’s head. I winced at the sound of my clothed hitting my gauzed arms, not sounding too pretty. I nodded and walked into the diner’s bathroom.
I walked over to the toilet and put the seat down, sitting on it. I put my head in my hands, and for the fourth time today, I was crying. I cried about the past, with Shot and old, reliable friends, but also cried about my uselessness. My feet trembled slightly as I cried, touching the floor and keeping my arms up, and I suddenly felt the urge to feel more of the cool floor than what was on my feet. I got off the toilet seat and curled into a ball on the floor, shivering at the cool tiled floor against my skin. I still wasn’t feeling like I wanted to. I wanted to feel something. I stood up, using the toilet for support, and looked around the bathroom for something sharp. I smiled at a razor on the counter, gleaming in the bathroom light.

“My friend…” I said, walking over to the razor and taking it in my hands, holding it to my chest like a baby. “You have a lot of work to catch up on.”

I broke the razor open by placing it on the floor and crunching the plastic with my boot, not breaking any blade. I bent over after removing my boot from the pile of plastic and razor, picking the cleanest looking razor out of the pile. I smiled as I stood back up, holding it and twirling it in my fingers. The blade caught one of my fingers, making a big drop of red appear on my finger, and I smiled at the sight of the blood.

I unwrapped my right arm, knowing that the guys wouldn’t see my scars from the blade in my hand until they were slight little things. I set the razor at my wrist, right where some tendon or something stuck out from my skin, away from my normal arm. I grinned and my eyes shone bright at I dragged the razor across my skin, blood escaping from the wound and splashing on the tiled floor, not making a sound. I went an inch below the first cut and made another cut, somewhat deeper this time. I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the sudden pain that hit me. I took another cut, and another cut, and another cut.

My arm, after fifteen minutes, had twenty lines, all crying blood and making me happy to see them. I placed the gauze over my wounds, not wrapping at tightly as Kobra had. Some of the blood leaked through the four layers of gauze, but oh well, we can’t have everything in life we want. I pulled the button down shirt off my head and changed into my old clothes, smelling memories and tearing up again. Shot was in my clothes’ memories, and they didn’t know that she was gone. I sat down on the floor, my back screaming in pain as I fell to the ground, sad that Shot was gone. She took the old me, I thought, looking at the white gauze on my right arm turn red before my eyes. She took the old me, and left with me with this angry shell of a person.

I shut my eyes and lay on the floor, wanting to drown my troubles in alcohol. I remembered my truck was outside, meaning my stash was still there. I opened my eyes and got up, ignoring the pain and confusion in my head. “Nothing’s wrong, Violet,” I grumbled to myself, opening the door and stumbling outside into the main door.

I walked over to the diner’s back door somewhat normally, appearing as if nothing was wrong, aside from my totally red right arm gauze and my bloodied fingers. I walked outside into the harsh sun, shielding my eyes with my right arm. I spotted my truck under then desert camouflage, and smiled, stumbling over to my truck. I walked to the back, leaning heavily against my truck’s side. I opened my truck’s back door and, sure enough, my favorite bottle of tequila was waiting for me. I snatched the bottle from the seat and glared at the car. “Fuck you, Mr. Seat. Misses Tequila’s mine for the rest of her life!” I laughed loudly, and fell to the ground, resisting the urge to puke. “Yo, Ground, what up?” I laughed at the ground suddenly, hearing myself. “Ah ha ha, you’re the ground, and I asked you what’s up! Tell me another,” I pressed the ground, poking it with my right index finger. I pressed my ear to the ground, listening for a joke. I started laughing again. “You tell the funniest jokes, Ground!”

I put my ear to the ground again, and I actually heard something this time. Pills…. Pills… the ground was saying, making me stand up woozily and walk to the passneger’s side of my truck. “Which one you gots it?” I asked the seat, pointing and falling over. I saw the BL/ind pills on the bottom of my truck, and smiled a huge, toothy grin. “There you are. Come to papa,,,” I said, reaching for the pill bottle.

A hand snatched the pill bottle up, and I turned to follow the hand, ready to have a fight with the hand. The hand was connected to Current, and I turned away from her, drinking my tequila.

“Rage…” Current said, sounding anything but happy. I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you have these?” she asked, shaking the pill bottle.

I reached for the pills. “He and I are getting married, Current. I need the pills, he’s mine,” I said, referring to the pills.

Current knit her eyes together. “Rage… What happened to you?”

“Life happened, Current,” I said, watching the world grow hazy as little dark spots floated in front of me, beyond my reach. “Don’t ever get caught up with life,” I said quietly as the dark hazes attacked my eyes, making the world black.
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