Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Through The Eyes Of...

Karma's A Bitch Or It Makes You One

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

Nikki's monster turns on him.

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-07-15 - 4769 words


My New year was awful. All I wanted to do was get loaded full of smack. So I called up some hookers to hopefully take my mind off that. I got my dick sucked but when it came time for fucking I couldn't rise to the occasion. It embarrassed me so I made an ass of myself. I blamed the hookers for not being sexy enough and threw them out. Truth is, I'm just not in the fucking mood. I'm too goddamn depressed. Nothing is as it seems. I'm lonely and I'm scared becauseI I don't know what to do. I'm trying so hard to stay off smack but it just haunts my thoughts. I wish I wasn't all alone. My life has just unraveled at the seams.

So Donnington is in August. We got invited so of course I said yes. It wasn't until after I accepted that I found out the Gunners were going to be asked too. I had promised to stay away. If I knew they were being invited I would have gracefully bowed out. I honestly didn't want to upset them or take away from their first European gig. I know exactly how much it means when you get to travel with your band to another country for the first time. That's when you really know you're making it. I didn't want to ruin that pride filled experience for any of them. But simply by being on the bill I know I will. And I honestly don't want to ruin it for them. I wanted to honor Duff's wishes.

The right thing to do would be backing out. But unfortunately I have my own band to think about. Cancelling would be a big set back to our own careers. It would be taken as an insult and the Europeans would give us a cold shoulder for a long time afterwards. That is if the promoters ever gave us a chance again at all. So you see, I can't exactly fucking say no. I'm stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. What am I supposed to do? Say yes and try to stay out of their way? Or sacrifice my own band to ensure their safety and comfort. I don't know what I should do.

My cryptic funeral March doorbell rings and just compounds my depression. I should change it to something more jovial, but there just isn't a jovial bone in my body these days. Nothing makes me smile or laugh anymore. I will my aching body up off my couch and drone to the door. My head is pounding and my bones feel like they have arthritis. I look out my peephole and see Tommy. Damnit, what the fuck is he doing here? I didn't ask him to come over. I wonder what he wants. Well as they say, misery loves company, so I open the door.

"What are you doing here T-Bone?" I sigh. I don't like him seeing me like this. He's a severe pain in my ass when he's worried about me. I guess I should be thankful that someone does worry.

He gives me a curious expression. I kinda feel like I'm being triaged. He can tell I'm not well. He's trying to figure out just how bad off I am. "Haven't heard from you. I was worried," he says.

"I'm fine," I shrug and look down at the floor. I'm not fine. Everything hurts and my mind is fractured. I find myself hating everything, especially myself.

"You sure? You don't look so good." Now he looks even more concerned with my well being. I guess I should appreciate his concern. Nobody else gives a fuck.

"I've been kicking for about three weeks now. The worst is over, I'm just completely drained." I say still staring at my floor. And my brain feels so fried. I'm contemplating suicide. But I'm fine Tommy.

"So can I come in....Or is it like a bad time?" He asks with marked skepticism in his tone.

I shrug with a sigh and step aside. Like I said, misery loves company. So we go in and I flop back down on my couch. Tommy goes over to my liquor and grabs a bottle of Jack. He twists off the lid and gets a chug. Then he sits next to me. He seems nervous but I don't really know why. I know I should start a conversation, but I just can't think of a thing to say to him. There's really nothing to say. I can't tell him what sort of mental pain I'm really in. I didn't want him to think that I was so bad I needed professional help. He would tell Vince and Mick. Then a band meeting would be called. They'd want to ship me off to some rehab or loony bin. That's the last thing I needed.

"You gonna keep on hiding out in your house and sulking?" He asks.

"What's it to you?" I huff.

"I just hate seeing you like this Sixxer. I'm used to raising hell with my Terror Twin. I miss you bro," he says softly.

"And don't you feel bad about any of it?" I cut my eyes over at him. God knows I have my regrets about all of it. We'd hurt a lot of people. Some for no reason at all.

"It was all in good fun, right?" He smiles at me.

My brows furrowed. It was all in good fun? Jesus, is that the type of shit I said when I was high? "We're both fucking lucky we're not in fucking prison right now," I tell him.

"Prison? For what? For doing what those Gunner fucks do to themselves? Are you forgetting that I fucked Stradlin before you did? Trust me, he fucking wanted it."

"Stop talking about him," I sigh. I really didn't need the imagery of him fucking Izzy in my head. I was having a hard enough time trying to forget Izzy as it was.

"Why? You still hung up on that guy?" He asks incredibly shocked. Of course I was still hung up on Izzy. I loved him. You can't just snap your fingers, wiggle your nose, and click your heels together three times and magically forget someone.

"Just don't, ok?" I say it softly but I mean it as a fucking warning.

"What the fuck do you see in that junkie loser?! What the fuck does he have that I don't?!" Tommy blurts.

And there it is, Tommy's jealous streak. I get he has feelings for me but my feelings are in NO way a reflection of his. I don't think getting involved with a band member is a very wise course of action, even if I did want him. There's just too much room for error in a relationship like that. Besides, the only man I've ever been interested in in that way is Izzy. My own jealous streak was the only way I was even able to get it up to fuck Axl and Slash. I just wanted to hurt them because Izzy loved them. In my head it made perfect sense. But now, in hindsight, I know that what I did was sheer horror.

"Don't start with your gay shit Tommy, I don't need it right now," I sigh. This so wasn't what I wanted to deal with right now.

"You don't know what you need!" He shouts at me. "You have someone right here who would die for you! Haven't I done every fucking thing you've ever asked me to do?! I'm on your side on every fucking thing! Why the fuck do I even bother?!" He seems agitated and impatient.

"I guess you're just a glutton for punishment," I shrug.

"No I just patiently wait telling myself that one day you'll come around. But you know what, one day my patience is gonna run out Sixx."

I just glare at him. Was he insinuating that he would do to me what he did to Izzy and Slash if I didn't give him what he wants? My blood starts boiling. "What the fuck are you getting at Tommy?" I ask in anger.

Tommy just gives me this menacing smirk. He licks his lips and starts looking up and down my body. Hes looking at me like he would a chick he's thinking about fucking. The way he's looking at me makes my fucking skin crawl. I don't like it. Once more, I don't trust it. Ok, I think it's time for Tommy to leave now. I've had enough eye fucking for one day. It was a bad idea to have answered the door.

"I think you should probably get the fuck out of my house," I glare daggers at him.

He huffs slightly and sits down the bottle of Jack. "I'll leave when I'm good and goddamn ready."

"Oh you're ready right fucking now," I say standing up and pointing at the door. I'm so fucking mad I could cry. I can't believe he's saying this shit to me again. Didn't I get my fucking point across the last time we had this conversation? I don't want him!

Tommy stands with a gleam on his face. He takes a step closer to me and snakes his arms around my waist. I grab his wrists trying to remove his arms from around me but I'm as weak as a kitten from the weeks of getting clean. Right now Tommy has far more strength than I do. And right now that's not good. He keeps pulling me closer and closer to him. "Just relax princess. You'll feel better after I make you cum."

"No! Get the fuck off me!" I struggle against him. But Tommy stoops down and lifts me into his arms with one effortless swoop. "Let me go! Fucking put me down Tommy!" I keep protesting but I might as well be screaming at a wall. Tommy wastes no time and starts carrying me to my room. I slam my fists into him as hard as I can but I can't phase him in my weakened condition. Tommy throws me on my bed and quickly pulls off his shirt. No!! I try to squirm away but he's pinning me to the bed by my wrists before I can. His weight on me pins my body. He has me rendered virtually motionless. I feel powerless. And I don't at all like the way it feels. "Tommy get the fuck off me!!"

"Stop fighting it," he says as he struggles with me to rip my shirt off, "It'll feel better if you don't fight it." And he keeps ripping and fighting off my hands. No it wouldn't feel any better because I don't fucking want it. Why isn't he stopping? Tommy always listens to me. He always does as I ask. Why isn't he now??

Somehow I manage to bring my knee up hard into his nuts. He let's go of me and grabs himself. I wiggle out from under him and scamper to the door. But before I can reach it I'm falling face first on the carpet with Tommy on my back. He fucking tackled me. I try crawling away but he keeps pulling me back. I can't get away. I haven't felt this helpless since the fucking LAPD raped me in the back of a squad car. Now my best friend is aiming on raping me on my own floor?

"Stop!!" I scream. I don't want this! I don't want Tommy! I didn't want sex of any sort with anyone!!

I hear Tommy pant in my ear, "I'll be gentle baby if you just stop fighting me." Then I feel him sit up on my ass. I hear him open his switchblade and I freeze. What the fuck is the knife for? Is he going to hold me at knife point? Or is the crazy son of a bitch gonna kill me? I feel him stick the knife into the back of my pants and start cutting them open. Oh god! No! Not that! I'd rather he killed me than do what a I think he's trying to do. I try to roll him off me but it doesn't work. I try pulling myself by the carpet but that doesn't work either. For every method I try Tommy circumvents.

"Tommy please stop!!" I scream so hard my voice cracks. I don't want this to happen! Just kill me Tommy! Fucking slit my throat! Cut out my heart! Just don't do THIS!

But Tommy just softly laughs. "Don't worry, I'll have more consideration of you than I did them. I'm gonna be so gentle with you kitten." And i hear the back of my pants rip open.

I try wrangling away but the only thing I manage to accomplish is helping Tommy pull my pants off. I crawl, completely naked, for the door and reach up to the knob. But Tommy's hand pulls my arm away. He bear hugs me on the floor and I can't fucking move. Im completely helpless and it scares the shit out of me. I'm completely at his mercy and I hate the way that makes me feel. "Tommy don't," I'm practically begging.

"You know you want it," he moans, "fuck, you deserve it. All those times you had me do your dirty work is about to pay off for me. I'm gonna do you so good baby." His words remind me of a rerun of the horrible things I had done. Now it's me who has no power and begs and cries like the little bitch. Then he rolls me over and climbs on top of me again. I fight a little but his words cause me to pause.

And I just stop moving. I stop fighting all together. I submit. Tommy was right. I did deserve this. Not because I used Tommy, but because I had done this to others. Karma was doing an about face to give me my ten fold. I did deserve this and more for hurting Izzy and everyone he cares about. This is fate that I find myself defenseless and weak. Tommy doing this to me is everything bad I've done coming back on me. And it's not even enough to justify all the pain I've caused. It's virtually impossible to inflict on me the pain and anguish I've caused others. And I know something like this never fully goes away. And I deserve to be saddled with this every day for the rest of my life. And I'm willing to bet that karma grants me a long and painful life.

So I just lay there. He spreads my thighs and gets on his knees between them. Tommy keeps whispering how he won't hurt me, but when he starts pushing it in it hurts. It hurts more than those cops who were actually going at it pretty roughly. But they didn't have Tommy's circus sideshow dick. But I won't scream. I just lay there and bite my lip as the tears stream from the corners of my eyes. Tommy's so big. Too big. It hurts so much. But I deserve this and I know that. With every move Tommy makes I feel burning. I know I'm stretched to the point of tearing but thankfully Tommy goes slow. My odds wouldn't be good if he gets carried away. The only thing he can't do to me is make me love him. I couldn't find it in myself to love him.

"I've waited so long for you," he pants in my neck as his hands pin my wrists. "I fucking love you so much Nikki."

And in this moment I understand how Izzy must have felt when he gave himself to me to save Slash. I'm feeling what he had to be feeling. He didn't want it, but he took it. Maybe he felt like he deserved it too. I look up at the expression on Tommy's face. He's in sheer heaven. He thinks that because I quit fighting that I want this. And that's what I had thought about Izzy. But he didn't want it anymore than I do right now at this minute. And I feel more shame than I ever thought possible. I fucking hated myself. In this moment I see what a monster I was to someone I claimed to love. No wonder they all hate me. Their hate is completely justifiable.

And Tommy goes slow for a really long time. I'm not sure how long really. I'm sorta lost in my own head thinking about karma and redemption. Does this act bring me any redemption for all my misdeeds? Any at all? The only thing I'm certain of is how little meaning there is for me in all of Tommy's words of devotion and love. His words meant absolutely nothing to me. In fact, every word he says just brings me more numbness. I was detaching myself from an event I didn't want to be present for. Just like Axl did when I was fucking him and slicing him. So I lie there letting my brain analyze the irony of the whole situation.

It's almost comical at how much people do horrible things in the name of love. As if that works to make someone feel like you do. Nothing could be farther away from love than pain. Real love would never be capable of harm. Real love waits. Real love is infinitely kind. Real love isn't that selfish. And God knows I've been the most spiteful and selfish person of them all. But now I get it. What Tommy's doing to me isn't love. It's lust. Lust is that evil emotion that causes our selfishness at the harm of someone else. This is exactly what my lustful ways deserved. So I just take it. In my head I'm screaming but not one utter comes from me. I won't fight. I just wanted to get it over with.

I can feel Tommy's sweat against my skin. I can feel the heat he's a causing himself. And then I feel his hot cum shooting inside of me. He shouts praises and words of endless love and I just silently cry. When he pulls out of my ass it starts throbbing like crazy. Tommy gets dressed. He's talking the whole time but I don't register a single word. I mean I hear him, but nothing he says is real. This isn't love. This isn't anything of any meaning. I don't love him. I just curl into fetal position. Tommy talks some more and I just wait for him to leave. I have nothing to say to him. What the fuck could I even say if I wanted to say something? I just wanted him to leave. And finally he does, leaving me in a ball on the floor with a tear soaked face and cum oozing out of my ass.

After he leaves the dam just breaks loose. I pull myself up on my bed and collapse back on it in agony. I just wanted a hit to make this all go away. I wanted to disappear. But then I remembered the things I had done. I cry even harder when I try to imagine how Izzy, Axl, and Slash must have felt afterwards. I'm sure they felt so dirty and full of shame like I do. But I feel more than just shame. I feel so much guilt. Guilt for the horrible things I have done. There's no doubt about it, I deserved exactly what I got from Tommy.

I pull open my night stand drawer and start running around in the back of it. Maybe I still have dope in there.. I move around everything looking but can't find shit. I jerk the drawer out completely and throw it on the floor. My hand scans inside the hole where it was for maybe a little bit that fell out or something. Nothing. I roll off the edge onto my feet and flip my nightstand with one abrogated jolt of energy. I flip the mattress off my bed next. I'm just praying for one lost fucking fold of smack but again nothing. My eyes fall on my closet door. I rush to it hoping to find something in there. I rip my clothes from their hangers. I pull everything from the shelves and throw it on top of my clothes piled in the floor. Not a goddamn thing.

I wrap my arms around myself and sob. I lean back into the wall and look straight up, like I was looking for a creator or God or something. But there is no God for a man like me. He turned his back on me a long long time ago. Not even he can find it in himself to forgive me of my sins. They are simply too many and endlessly infinite. I'm the devil's son now. Damned as I truly deserve to be. And if it's possible I cry even harder. My back slides down the wall and I slump on my floor rocking. It hurts like hell, but I deserve every bit of the pain I'm feeling.

Then for some reason Izzy's face pops into my head. I remember how he looked tied face down on that bed. He was so pale that his lips had no color. The only color was from where I had beaten him. He looked so broken. He begged me to let him go, that something was wrong and I just ignored his pleas, I didn't know Tommy had been fucking into his guts, I thought he was just being a whiny little bitch. No wonder he screamed the way he did. I almost let him lay there and die. I would have let him die if his red headed tornado didn't break in and take him. What sort of evil is in me that would allow me to do that to someone I loved? Even I know that's not how you treat someone you love. I guess I was acting out of resentment because he didn't love me. Nor would he ever. But for a while I was able to sell myself a beautiful dream. But fairy tales prove to be 90% bullshit. I guess I realized that the night he put a gun to my head. Then him and Axl laughed at me. Thats when the dream shifted and love turned into vengance. I should burn in hell twice. Even then, that's still not enough to clean my slate. There's simply not enough justice to ever redeem my evil ways.

I raped Axl for the sake of hurting what Izzy loved the most. I tortured him for hours. I fucked with his head just to amuse myself. I even convinced him that Izzy didn't love him. That was cruel to do to him. But he possessed the only thing I wanted, Izzy's heart. As I lay between his thighs fucking him I tried to imagine how Izzy could love this person so wholly. I tried to imagine the feelings, the tides of emotions. I wanted him to feel like my everything. I just wanted to know how that felt, to be everything to someone, and in return them being your everything as well. I wanted that with Izzy, but I didn't have it and I never would because his everything already belonged to Axl. But god how I had wished it was me. But I have to give it to Axl, he never cried or begged me to stop. He's hard as nails, even more so than Izzy. Then to add insult to injury I branded my name in Axl's chest. I wanted Izzy to look at it every fucking day and know that I was there. An ache that never heals, the deepest cut you feel.

And Slash. Man that kid looked at me like I was his hero at fifteen years old. He idolized me. And my thanks for that was the Savage manner in which I hurt him. I honestly don't know who I hurt the worst out of the three. But I keep seeing Slash's big doe like eyes spilling tears as I humiliated him both mentally and physically. I really regretted what I did to him. He was the only one of the Gunners that always stood up for me. He's the reason I met Izzy. And for bestowing me with the best fucking introduction of my life, I ruin his. I took the one thing the whole band had tried so hard to preserve. All innocence was lost, and it's entirely my fault. There's nothing human about me. There isn't even anything evil enough to compare me to. Honestly, out of Izzy, Axl, and Slash, it's Slash forgiveness I longed for the most. But I know his will be the last I ever get. I hurt him in a way no one ever could get over or forgive. What I did to him was...Unspeakable. I remember how he'd screamed when I jammed that bottle into him, how he'd shrieked when Tommy ripped him open and now having experienced his circus dick for myself I know how badly it must have hurt both him and Izzy when he was so rough with him and just shoved it in as hard as he could. The poor kid was terrified when I came to his house to apologize; I pretended not to notice but there was no way not to see how hard he was shaking. I can't believe he saved me after after what I did to him, what I allowed Tommy to do to him and in front of Duff and Izzy too, Now what he and Duff had, that was true love. The kid had clung to Duff the whole time I was in their apartment and I could see the absolute love and devotion to each other in the way Duff fiercely protected the kid and the way Slash looked to him for love and safety. I remember how he'd begged Duff to help him while Tommy and I were raping him and how hard Duff had fought to get to him but he couldn't and the absolute anguish in both of their eyes. I remember Duff's relief and how quickly he scooped the kid up in his arms to get him to safety and how Slash had just sagged into his arms, knowing he was safe as soon as his lovers arms were around him. I wish somebody loved me that way. But I don't deserve that kind of love.

Why did I bother getting clean? For what? For who? I'm alone and nobody even cares. If I die tomorrow nobody would cry for me or pray for my soul. And why should they? I don't know what it is I'm waiting for. There's no reason for me to carry on another day. I wish I would have died back in December. I wish I didn't have to wake up another day. But I don't know if I can kill myself. As much as I want to be dead, I still have this nagging feeling that there's still something that I have to do. But I don't know what it might be. Will I ever? Why can't I just give up? Or why can't I just let go? Just cease to be. Afterall, I don't deserve to live.

I crawl out of my closet on my hands and knees back to my bed. I notice a little blood on it and on the floor where Tommy had... I'm reach for my cigarettes and try to light one, but my lighter won't strike. I let the cigarette fall from my lips. I curl myself into a tight little ball and cry even more. Ive come to hate my life so much. And I hate myself even more. I didn't want to keep doing this. I don't want to live with the ramifications of my actions anymore. I didn't want to love someone who would never love me back. I just want it all to fucking stop. Should I stay? Or should I go?

January 4,1988
Dear Diary,

When is it time to call it quits? Time to take the curtain call? The final encore? It's sheer Cowardess. I deserve exactly what I get. But with what I'm facing I just want the easy way out. I'm so tired diary. I'm just so tired.
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