Wha-if rockstars went to boarding school

Chapter 57: sobriety shmobriety

Nikki Sixx

I'm clean.

I'm clean.

No you're a bitchass liar because right now you're sitting on the floor injecting heroin into your thigh and crying you fucking baby.

Thanks, brain.

But my brain isn't wrong. That's what I'm doing right now. I'm not strong enough to stay off this shit. I knew it from the start, and now, as I sit here readying the needle for the plunge, I've broken every relationship, every heart, every tie with the outside world. It's just me and heroin.

Laying 20 feet from me is the reason I tried so hard to get clean. He's asleep, which makes this slightly easier. It would kill Tommy if he found me doing this. I could never forgive myself, and I definitely wouldn't want him to forgive me.

Why do I play this sick, twisted game so often? Dancing with the demons. I know all the risks, Hell, I've faced all the risks, but yet all I want is more. I've got no control over this, and at this point, I'm not sure I want it back.

You know this shit makes you feel better.

You're right brain, it does.

It distracts you from what a worthless piece of shit you are. You're unlovable Nikki, and the best part is, you think people actually care about you.

No Nikki, you make them hate you. Everyone would be so much fucking happier without you.

"Shut up." I whisper into the darkness.

'Why should I shut up when I'm the one whos right here?' My heroin addled brain seethes.

"Please..." I whisper again, louder this time, and drawing the attention of both Ozzy and Sammy.

"Nikki, the fuck are you doing up this ungodly time bloke?" Ozzy grunts, rolling over and sitting up in bed.

I look up at them both, trying to think of something to say. My brain is fucked though, so I just lay back on the floor and watch the ceiling. I feel both Ozzy and Sammy gently grab me, and I slowly sit up, the pounding in my brain finally starting to leave as I slowly start to drift away.

"He hit the heroin stash again." Sammy notes.

"Well it's fuckin obvious ain't it?" Ozzy grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah yeah fuck off." Sammy growls. "Nikki, Nikki man can you hear me?"

"Yeah...let me go to sleep." I mumble, laying on my bed.

"Alright bloke, but you really shouldn't do this shit anymore." Ozzy says softly.

I nod and curl up, my head spinning. The darkness consumes me as I fall into a dreamless, coma like state, that honestly can't even be classified as sleep. My entire body aches, and this and heroin are the only things that help me.

The next day-

I grab my songbook, looking at the song I wrote last night. Apparently I call it mental case, even though I have no memory of writing it.

She's that monster from hell
Witch that cast her spell
And she's hanging on my every move
She's the lie behind the curtain
The reason that I'm hurting
And. I. Cant. Breathe.

With just a flick of her poison touch
You'll be feeling all corrupt
There's no escape from her game
You can play but it's certain death
She'll write your name in the epitaph
You'll see the reason I am the way I am