All The Good Girls Go To Heaven
Casa de Romance
I saw them. They were murdering behind the club. How could I not join in? It looked like so much fun! So I just grabbed my knife and stuck it in the boy’s heart. They both stopped at that point, and turned to face me. Their knives raised up, ready to kill me as well. I guess I shouldn’t have scared them. I did the logical thing and held up my knife to Frank’s throat.
“Oh, poor Gerard. Having to spend the next few minutes deciding whether Frank lives or not. Either both of us die, or neither of us do.” I said. Both of their eyes were very wide at this point. Have my boys gone soft on me?
“To be honest, I didn’t come here to kill you. I came here to see if we can start making people disappear together. I want to help you kill people.” I giggled. They stared at each other, realizing that I was the second killer.
“Fine. Where do you live? We need to know where to meet you.” Gerard said.
“Anywhere you want me to. I just live in an old abandoned place near by.”
“Fine then. You’re coming with us. Your name is...?”
“Skylar.”
“Good, good. Now remove the knife from my Frankie’s throat, please?”
I like the people in this band. It’s all of my old friends. Well, they weren’t exactly my friends, per say, but they were people I knew who weren’t complete idiots. That’s about as close as I ever came to friends. Oh, and there was also the man who saved my life, and the one who was stupid enough to not know that his brother is a serial killer. He’s not exactly stupid, but he’s of slightly above average in intelligence, I’d say of around a 120 IQ. As with most people of slightly above average intelligence, he seems stupid to those with a much more superior intelligence, as well as small flecks of insanity mixed in. Maybe he’s the one who should know who I was 10 years ago? He always was good at keeping secrets, due to the fact that he never talked much. As Gerard was telling me, before you, the people who will not get out of my brain, so rudely interrupted, he’s stopped smiling as well. He needed three years of therapy after finding my broken shell of a body. It’s numbed him to the point of no facial expression. I can’t help but feel that I caused this, which makes me feel so much more... alive.
“We’re here.” Ray called from the drivers seat. He’s grown his hair out even more. It’s come to the point of being a full-blown afro.
“Casa de Romance.” He pointed to the medium sized house at the corner of two streets, who’s names I could not see. I’m guessing they live here together.
“You sleep on the couch or in any bed of your choice, as long as you can put up with being one of two people squished in a twin-sized bed. Grab a pillow from the basement.” Ray was nice enough. Bob, who was apparently the drummer, I hadn’t met yet. He was from Chicago, and was staying a nearby hotel. He was also moving in with the rest of the band tomorrow, therefore, taking my place on the couch until he could afford a bed. I think I might actually hate living here more than I hate living human beings.
“I’ll sleep in Mikey’s bed.” I smiled.
“Oh, poor Gerard. Having to spend the next few minutes deciding whether Frank lives or not. Either both of us die, or neither of us do.” I said. Both of their eyes were very wide at this point. Have my boys gone soft on me?
“To be honest, I didn’t come here to kill you. I came here to see if we can start making people disappear together. I want to help you kill people.” I giggled. They stared at each other, realizing that I was the second killer.
“Fine. Where do you live? We need to know where to meet you.” Gerard said.
“Anywhere you want me to. I just live in an old abandoned place near by.”
“Fine then. You’re coming with us. Your name is...?”
“Skylar.”
“Good, good. Now remove the knife from my Frankie’s throat, please?”
I like the people in this band. It’s all of my old friends. Well, they weren’t exactly my friends, per say, but they were people I knew who weren’t complete idiots. That’s about as close as I ever came to friends. Oh, and there was also the man who saved my life, and the one who was stupid enough to not know that his brother is a serial killer. He’s not exactly stupid, but he’s of slightly above average in intelligence, I’d say of around a 120 IQ. As with most people of slightly above average intelligence, he seems stupid to those with a much more superior intelligence, as well as small flecks of insanity mixed in. Maybe he’s the one who should know who I was 10 years ago? He always was good at keeping secrets, due to the fact that he never talked much. As Gerard was telling me, before you, the people who will not get out of my brain, so rudely interrupted, he’s stopped smiling as well. He needed three years of therapy after finding my broken shell of a body. It’s numbed him to the point of no facial expression. I can’t help but feel that I caused this, which makes me feel so much more... alive.
“We’re here.” Ray called from the drivers seat. He’s grown his hair out even more. It’s come to the point of being a full-blown afro.
“Casa de Romance.” He pointed to the medium sized house at the corner of two streets, who’s names I could not see. I’m guessing they live here together.
“You sleep on the couch or in any bed of your choice, as long as you can put up with being one of two people squished in a twin-sized bed. Grab a pillow from the basement.” Ray was nice enough. Bob, who was apparently the drummer, I hadn’t met yet. He was from Chicago, and was staying a nearby hotel. He was also moving in with the rest of the band tomorrow, therefore, taking my place on the couch until he could afford a bed. I think I might actually hate living here more than I hate living human beings.
“I’ll sleep in Mikey’s bed.” I smiled.
