Kiss of Death- Dave Mustaine Fanfiction

Wind Up

I have a choice between the bat or the belt
Each time I hear about the hand you've been dealt
Spare me confessions, it's confession you sell
Maybe I'll fall behind, I don't mind 'cause I'll catch up!
Want a song that's indelible, like manimal,
I hope you never see me wind up Will I be happy on the back of the shelf?
Will you be happy when we're sharing a cell?
Spare me the questions since you know me so well
Someday you'll realize I get shy and I choke up!
Want a song that's indelible, like manimal,
I hope you never see me wind up
What is wrong with this animal?
I'm terrible
I hope you never see me wind up Farewell, my sweet paramania - Foo Fighters

I sighed deeply looking forwards towards the pale white door in front of me. After finally gaining a modicum of confidence I twisted the door and it opened only to reveal you. It was quiet, oh so deadly quiet. I saw you there hunched over on your bed writing in a small worn down journal mostly likely given to you by the clinic. You truly looked dreadful. Not only did you look like you were going through the symptoms of withdrawals, but your left arm, which was your dominant arm, was rendered useless and left bandaged in a cast. The bags under your eyes looked darker and drearier. You had your hair tied back, were unshaven, and were wearing your rather large glasses. You looked like an old man. I was a bit startled to see you like this, and yet so were you.  It was like you were detuned and out of commission. Who would've figured that time would've rendered you like this, but more importantly who would've figured that time would've left us like this? Time has rendered you as useless as you had rendered me.

You looked up towards the door when noticing my presence then began to look down as you saw our children. I could tell that you were dealing with some conflicting emotions. You were happy to see our kids, but not to see me. While, as stated before it was shameful to you to have anyone see you in such a state, especially now, but those were your kids, your flesh and blood. I on the other hand was the bitch that ruined your life. Being around me like this was like a punch in the face. It infuriated you to the bone to how that this was where we stood in life, but no one could do anything about it. I couldn't do anything and neither could you, especially now.

You slammed down your journal and came up towards the kids and hugged them with your good arm. For once in a very long time you seemed genuinely happy. It was as if the rough patch in our relationship had simply disappeared. When it came to you and your kids no one could get in-between you and them. No God, court, or person could keep you from them. It was practically unheard of. I knew I certainly couldn't. Even though you despised me, you would always grit your teeth and nod your head just to occasionally see our kids. 

While, you were always constantly being monitored when being around this facility this didn't stop you from taking them outside or even to the stuffy work areas to just sit down and play or draw with hem, even with your arm being broken that didn't stop you from tending to the kids this time. While, back in the day it was kinda funny to see how you would dodge them like the plague to be the life of the party, but now with your arm taking away the one thing you loved more than life this was the only option you had left: to reconnect with your kids. Isn't it ironic. It's funny how life works isn't it? Life just comes back to damn and punish you when you least expect it.

Once the kids were tuckered out we laid them on top of your bed, while you and I began to go out into the hall to discuss your arm incident. As soon as this began blatantly clear to the both of us the happy facade you had plastered all over your face started to deteriorate and only leave the shallow depressed defeated state you have been stuck in for a while.

"I won't be able to play anymore." You stated to me rather halfheartedly and gloomily.

"What?" I questioned dumbfounded. 

"The doctor says I won't be able to play anymore. My hand is fucked. I might not even be able to write anymore." He retold as he focused his gaze towards the ground below us.

"So what are you going to do about it, and what the fuck is that thing on your hand?" I asked mimicking your attitude lackadaisically while also referring to the thing your entire arm seemed to be trapped in.

"My arm is receiving shock therapy in an attempt to stimulate the nerves within it." You stated noticeably growing more and more tired by the second. 

"You'll be fine." I stated lightening my mood. "We'll see the best doctors. You'll have the best care. You can do it. I know you can." I finalized. 

I only figured that it was no time to be a bitch. This was practically your life on the line. Sure, anyone could live without an arm and you certainly weren't getting amputated, but you truly couldn't live without any sort of feeling in your arm. Despite it still being attached your left arm was pretty much disposable at the point.

However, I guess the tenderness in my voice didn't register with you, because I was immediately greeted with hostility on your end. You have never raised your hand to me, but your right hand reached out and forcefully grabbed me by my upper left arm rendering me paralyzed by the shock. 

"I don't think you fucking understand, Pam!" You growled lowly as to avoid others around us from looking on at the scene unfolding. "You're not listening! My life is over!" You started.

In a fit of rage and anger the life that I concluded was missing from your eyes came back like roaring bush fire.

"I hate my life! I hate my job! I hate my band! I hate my kids! And I hate you! I wish I could fucking hang myself right now!" You hissed out venomously.

And despite you never raising even a finger once to strike me I jerked back in shock and in sudden dismay. I ripped your hand from my arm, and began to slowly comprehend what you just said to me. I was pissed, but my anger seeped away and left myself tired and exhausted with our constant confrontations. I merely looked towards you void of all emotion and said a simple 'okay'. I went to wake up and gather my kids, since it became crystal clear to me that none of us were wanted here. 

Even though you walked us back to the front desk no words were shared between us. Even a simple good-bye was too hard for either of us to muster up given the recent conversation we had just engaged in. It was obvious who I was going to choose. After all, it was between pathetic excuse of an ex-husband or my kids. It wasn't necessarily like choosing between a bat and a belt.Plus you made it very clear to me that I wasn't wanted or needed. But I knew the individuals that needed me were right in front of me, my children. They already had one failure of a parent they didn't deserve to have two of them. 

As I made the long drive back to Olympia I couldn't help but think to myself, 'What was I suppose to say?' I learned that day to keep you at a distance from the things that I felt. Despite all these years of our on and off relationship it was clear that there was nothing left to salvage there. You almost made me wind up back there, but you made me promise to myself. It was to never let you never see me wind up.