Categories > Celebrities > Motley Crue > Keep Your Eye on the Money

His Last Words

by coleypoke22 0 reviews

Category: Motley Crue - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2011-04-22 - Updated: 2011-04-22 - 926 words - Complete

0Unrated
"We are gathered here today to honor and remember the beloved son, boyfriend, band-mate, bassist, Nikki Sixx. He will always be forever remembered in our minds, and in our hearts," the overweight priest said at the front of the service. Tommy sat between Vince and Mick, and he stared at his fingernails the entire time. "Nikki was such a young spirit, and had such a fiery personality. We lost Nikki too soon due to a heroin overdose. Drugs are such a powerful thing, and should not be tampered with lightly. Today we are gathered to honor not Nikki's death, but rather his life. May his path to Heaven be a smooth, easy ride.
"When we were preparing Nikki to be buried, we found a letter in his pocket," The priest continued. Tommy raised his head. "I read the letter, and I can only assume it is a suicide note. He says he wants Tommy to read the letter in front of everybody at his funeral, so can Tommy come up here please?"
Vince nudged Tommy a little, and he reluctantly stood up. With some encouragement from the guys, he walked up to the podium, and the priest stepped aside after handing him the crumpled up note. The messy handwriting that belonged to Nikki made Tommy's throat lock. He cleared his throat, hoping the lump would go away, but it didn't. He looked up at the crowd of people he knew so well. "Uh, hi guys. This is the first time I've ever heard about this note, so, yeah, here goes.
To Everybody I Love,
There's something wrong with my life. I can't handle the pain anymore. I'm too much of a fucking pussy to put a bullet to my brain, so I'll just go on the cloud of heroin. At least then I'll be remembered as the rock star who died too young, got lost in the partying scheme, lost his way. Not a pussy who's still hurting from his childhood. To whoever finds this, please let Tommy read this at my funeral. He's the only one who was closest to me, that I trust to read this in front of everybody without lying or making up some bullshit. Sorry, Mick, Vince. But I love my dear Tommy. To Tommy, I will forever love you. I promised you that. I will miss you so much, babe, but please don't be upset about this. It was going to happen someday. I didn't want you to worry about me. When you saw the tracks, I knew it was my time to go. I forgive you for breaking my nose, bro, I would have broke your nose if I found out you were doing needles, too. I really hope this doesn't fuck you up. I swear Tommy, if you take your life because of this, I will never forgive you. I need you to live your life for the both of us. At least promise me that. Don't fucking start doing dope, either. It's fucking hell. I really fucking know that. Stay clean for me, stay clean for you. We will be together someday, should it be in heaven, hell, back on Earth, I don't know. I will be waiting for you after you've lived your life to the fullest, my darling. To everybody else I care about, I will miss you so much. Please keep your heads up, and keep going. I will be waiting for you guys too. Keep living your lives for you, and for me. Tommy, Mick, Vince, find a new bassist as soon as you can. Although I can't promise he will be able to write like I can (ha ha), you need to keep going, too. I apologize, everybody. I will miss you all. I love you all so much. Tommy, I want you to read this to the fans someday. I love you so fucking much, Tommy. You prolonged this damned life of mine, and I thank you for making it so lovely. I will watch over you, my sweet love.
Nikki fucking Sixx."
Tommy's hands were shaking by the time he was done reading, and a few tears started falling down his cheeks. Vince ran up to the podium and brought Tommy back to his seat, where he cried into Vince's shoulder. The crowd started applauding, and noses being blown could be heard all over the assembly. The rest of the funeral went by in a blur for Tommy. He kept reading the suicide note over and over again, absorbing the handwriting.
Vince helped Tommy into his car afterwards, Tommy's hands full with the framed picture of Nikki they used, and the note. The priest framed it for Tommy so he wouldn't smudge the writing. The picture was of Nikki and Tommy at the beach right before Shout at the Devil came out. They looked so happy together. It was the best picture of Nikki that Tommy could find. Vince rubbed Tommy's arm while he drove them back to his house. Vince had decided that Tommy needed to be around somebody, so he had sold his condo, bought a bigger place, and moved Tommy and all of his shit into it.
"You alright, Tom?" Vince asked. Tommy sighed. "Not really. It still hurts so damn much."
Vince nodded his head slightly. "I hear 'ya. It seems so fucking unreal, doesn't it?"
Tommy nodded and stared out the window. The houses and trees moving by in a blur perfectly described how Tommy felt about life at that moment. And it fucking sucked.
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