Long Hard Road Out Of Hell (Marilyn Manson) ON HOLD

Last Day On Earth

Marilyn's POV

"Stay here and don't move," one of the security guards who dragged me in here told me sternly. "Someone will come for you in a bit." Both the men left, and I heard a click after the shut the door. Great, I guess I'm locked in the room for God knows how long. I used the silence to my advantage and simmered over what just happened. I guess that guy was Anthony, it's the only boys name Dixie has ever mentioned. The thing that got me mad the most was that he was acting as if I did it on purpose. As if I'd ever hurt Dixie on purpose, I'd have to be black out drunk or act in self defence for me to that, and even then I'm not sure I would. God, what have I done? If only I had come home tomorrow, like I was supposed too, if only I hadn't grabbed my jacket, if only I had been more fucking vigilant. I was on a road, for gods sake, how could I have though it would be okay to drive without looking?

As I mentally kicked myself, memories of Dixie started flooding in, like the time when I first met her and she dropped her suitcase out of shock, or that night after the club incident where she let me hug her properly for the first time, the way her eyes lit up as she spoke about her mum and how much effort she put in to make sure the anniversary of my own mothers death wasn't as sad as the one's she'd experienced. Let's not forget how fucking proud I was when I saw her on the front of Dita's website. Shit, I should probably call Dita! She doesn't even know I'm back today, for all she knows Dixie is in school, enjoying herself like she should be. I looked at the time, 10:23. She should be awake by now. I clicked on her contact and waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?" I instantly felt calmer as I heard her voice, something I didn't want to admit.

"Dita, something... Something happened." I began, already chocking up.

"What? Are you hurt? Did something happen on tour?"

"No, no, it's not me, it's uh, it's Dixie." My voice cracked as I said her name.

"What happened? And how do you know, aren't you still on tour?" She asked, I could hear the panic in her voice.

"That's the thing, I came home today... I was supposed to surprise Dixie but it went wrong, it went so wrong." I started sobbing, clutching the phone in my hands as if it was her hand.

"Marilyn, please, calm down. Calm down and tell me what happened." Dita ordered in what I used to call, her "mother tone". She'd always been more level headed than me, which came in handy.

"I hit her." I said shakily.

"You what?" She shouted. "Why the hell would you hit her? Jesus Christ Marilyn was is wrong with you?"

"No, I don't mean like that!" I shouted hysterically to be heard over her angry ranting. "I hit her with my car."

"Sir, your daughter is ready for visitors." The other security guard informed me, cutting me off. I hung up immediately and followed him out of the cramped room and down various hallways until we reached a door identical to all the others I'd passed. "There's a red button by her bed. Push it incase of emergency." And with that the guard walked off. I slowly opened the brown wooden door and had to hold onto the door frame to stop me from falling.

Her arms were crammed with tubes and bandages, her face covered in cuts and grazes that looked more brown than red now, her eyes still closed. Someone did the lengthy task of removing all of the tiny pieces of glass that had been lodged in the various lacerations all over her body and cleaning off all of the splattered blood, but despite being cleaned up she still looked grim. The thing that upset me the most was the oxygen mask that was attached to her nose and mouth. Normally people in the hospital only have the subtle tube going into their nose, but this big ugly piece of equipment was covering most of her face, making her state look scarier than it already was.