I'm Sorry- A Slipknot Story

Chapter 18

-August 25th, 4 days later-

-morning-

I wake up to someone poking my nose playfully. I open my eyes and they don't notice, poking my nose again. I snap at them and they jump back, showing that it's Corey.

"What are you doing up before me," I ask, standing up and rubbing my eyes.

"Because I wanted to wake the others up while you get yourself ready. It's the least I could do for our birthday girl," he says, grinning.

He knows I hate my birthday, but he doesn't know why. I hate it because of 2 things: I got disowned by my father because I was a girl and Arron started neglecting and abusing me in a birthday party I was supposed to have. I never celebrated my birthday after that because he would drop the cake on the floor and smear it all over the walls and the floor, making me clean it up after.

"Fine," I say, getting dressed while he looks away. 

I get dressed in a rose pink oversized sweater, dark blue fitted jeans, plain undergarments and my mask because I had a feeling I needed it. I put my makeup in my pocket and Corey turns back, his eyes closed and covered by his hand.

"Can I look now," he asks.

"Yeah," I say. He uncovers his eyes and opens them, smiling. He turns to his bed and grabs his pillow, hitting everyone in bed.

"Wake. The. Fuck. Up," he says, hitting Sid, then Shawn, then Joey.

"The fuck," Sid exclaims, hitting him on the top of his head. Corey covers his head with the pillow and darts to where I am, safe.

"Get up guys. We don't want to be late," I say, Joey climbing down and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Why? We have a later concert remember," he says.

"Exactly," Sid grumbles, jumping down and crossing his arms.

"Do you remember what day it is," Corey asks, gesturing to me.

"Happy Birthday Liz. Now can we sleep," Shawn says, standing by Joey.

"Thanks. To be honest, I'm being dragged into this too," I say. 

I step off the bus and smell the fresh paper mill smell of Milwaukee. I walk to the storage on the bus and open it, digging into the shoe boxes to find the rosy, spiky ones. I pull myself into the compartment and by the time I find them, I'm halfway into the compartment.

"Little help," I say, one of the guys pulling my ankles. I stand up and put on the shoes, thanking Chris.

"No problem, birthday girl," he says, grinning.

"You know I hate my birthday, so shut it before I zip up your mask and put glue on the pull," I say. 

I adjust the ankle straps and walk to the other guys, all of them conversing about something. I enter the circle and Jim tries to put his hand on my head, but getting confused when it's my shoulder. He looks down and I look up, smiling.

"Not today, tall Satan," I say, patting his hand. I look back and walk to Corey, grabbing his arm and dragging him a few feet away.

"What are you doing," I ask, holding onto his arm. I knew he had an abusive past, so I just kept my hand on his arm, being as gentle as possible.

"I thought I would let you show us Wisconsin today, then we would do the concert," he says, grinning.

"You're hiding something. Spill it," I say.

"I saw the Lorey drawings you refused to show. Let's just say the girl has an adult film and magazine opportunity when she grows up," he says, winking at the end.

"Oh lord of the dead," I say, letting go and pinching the bridge of my nose, shaking my head. I walk back to the other guys and Craig stands by me, using morse blinking to speak.

'Morning!'

"Good morning Craig. You're happy today," I say, the other guys glancing at us with confused faces.

'I heard it's you're birthday! I wish you a happy birthday!'

"Who told you it's my birthday," I ask, Craig pointing to Mick, who's not paying attention.

"Hold that thought," I say, walking to Mick. I tug on his shirt sleeve and he turns to me.

"Yes," he asks.

"Why did you tell Craig about my birthday? You know I hate my birthday," I say, him smiling.

"Because he should know about the day you, an angel, came into this world," he says.

"I told all of you I'm not an angel," I say, Corey laughing.

"What's your last name," he asks.

"Engel. Why," I ask.

"Engel translates to Angel in German. So, you are an angel by last name," he explains, making me roll my eyes at him.

"Don't give the shippers any ideas. They already think you're all demons," I say, making all of them laugh.

"Well, show us around Milwaukee," Sid says, clasping his hands together and leaning forward to me.

"Okay, but you might get half drunk," I say, walking to the main road that goes to a tourist hot spot.