Chapter 2 - Dear Die-ary...
Submitted November 6, 2007 Updated November 6, 2007 Status Complete | Months ago, Johnny C tried to kill Devi and she ended up beating the shiz out of him. Now she's having regrets- why did he do it? And most importantly, does he still like her?
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Comics » Johhny the Homocidal Maniac (JTHM) |
Chapter 2 - Dear Die-ary...
Chapter 2 - Dear Die-ary...
I had another bad one. Another bad flashback. The mirror again.
I'm sick of this. I'm fracking sick of it all. These sudden thoughts... why must they haunt me so?
My thoughts just go back to that night... they start with her smiles and end with her fear.
Sometimes I have long daydreams of everything that happened between us. From that first night I gave the lonely wallflower a rose, to the incident.
My foolish actions have caused me to lose something beautiful.
Sometimes I remember being thrown into the mirror; the blood dripping down my face... each little shard a memory of what happened; a thought of what could have been.
I lay there, tasting my own blood. Thinking. Crying.
And I snap out of it. I look up and see nothing. My own miserable life. Nothing more.
Other times, I did kill her. I laugh as I grab her. She's screaming, her beautiful eyes filled with fear and hatred.
I laugh as I kill her. I laugh as I leave her there with the other bodies; gorgeous jade eyes now dull and lifeless, watching me paint the wall with her blood.
These I hate the most.
But the others- Oh, the other daydreams...
It's what could have happened if only those damned voices left me alone... if I could have had a moment of sanity in me.
In those dreams, I don't get up. In those dreams, I don't need a knife to immortalize the moment. Time already stops. She looks at me with those eyes, sparkling.
In those dreams we do kiss.
It could have happened. I could have been the luckiest human on earth. I could have been loved by the most gorgeous creature I've ever met.
But no.
Instead, the angel hates the damned.
I don't want her to fear me. I don't want her to run away every time she sees me. I want to hold her in my arms, smile with her, tell her how much I adore her.
Life hates me. And if there is one, God hates me.
Well, this was useless. I'm getting all my emotions out, but is this doing me any good? Am I sane now? Do I not talk to dead rabbits anymore? Is she in my arms, smiling at me?
NO!
I'm going now; I wanna see how everybody's doing. If you know what I mean.
Now where'd I put that knife...?
-Nny
I'm sick of this. I'm fracking sick of it all. These sudden thoughts... why must they haunt me so?
My thoughts just go back to that night... they start with her smiles and end with her fear.
Sometimes I have long daydreams of everything that happened between us. From that first night I gave the lonely wallflower a rose, to the incident.
My foolish actions have caused me to lose something beautiful.
Sometimes I remember being thrown into the mirror; the blood dripping down my face... each little shard a memory of what happened; a thought of what could have been.
I lay there, tasting my own blood. Thinking. Crying.
And I snap out of it. I look up and see nothing. My own miserable life. Nothing more.
Other times, I did kill her. I laugh as I grab her. She's screaming, her beautiful eyes filled with fear and hatred.
I laugh as I kill her. I laugh as I leave her there with the other bodies; gorgeous jade eyes now dull and lifeless, watching me paint the wall with her blood.
These I hate the most.
But the others- Oh, the other daydreams...
It's what could have happened if only those damned voices left me alone... if I could have had a moment of sanity in me.
In those dreams, I don't get up. In those dreams, I don't need a knife to immortalize the moment. Time already stops. She looks at me with those eyes, sparkling.
In those dreams we do kiss.
It could have happened. I could have been the luckiest human on earth. I could have been loved by the most gorgeous creature I've ever met.
But no.
Instead, the angel hates the damned.
I don't want her to fear me. I don't want her to run away every time she sees me. I want to hold her in my arms, smile with her, tell her how much I adore her.
Life hates me. And if there is one, God hates me.
Well, this was useless. I'm getting all my emotions out, but is this doing me any good? Am I sane now? Do I not talk to dead rabbits anymore? Is she in my arms, smiling at me?
NO!
I'm going now; I wanna see how everybody's doing. If you know what I mean.
Now where'd I put that knife...?
-Nny
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