We're from America (Marilyn Manson)

Disengaged

"And I could look into the
Crowded morgue of mistakes
The sun stopped its smile
And frowned on me too
My re-built/re-mastered heart
Is smashed into its faces
And its face is confused
I cut my throat in two
I said sorry to you
For being a fool
But I didn't forgiveness
It was regret
Not an apology
It was regret
Regret
Regret
Dis
Dis
Dis
Disengaged
Dis
Dis
Dis
Disengaged
You're with me, against me
But the only thing forever is hate
I forget what I saw
Before and after that day
I'd trade all I was worth
To make myself in to
The handsomest gun
And put the diamond bullet
Into your
404 ERROR face
Dis
Dis
Dis
Disengaged
Dis
Dis
Dis
Disengaged
You're with me, against me
But the only thing forever is hate
And I'm an event
Everybody knows
You decide if you can live
Or you decide to let someone
Decide for you
Dis
Dis
Dis
Disengaged
Dis
Dis
Dis
Disengaged
You're with me, against me
But the only thing forever is hate"

Only one more song and she would be able to scratch her stomach. By this point in time, there wasn't a surface on her entire body that didn't have at least one mark on it. At least her veins were still okay. No blood clots. Brian provided her with quality horse. No need to mix it with other substances. Good. It was counterproductive on his part though, to provide her with it. But then again if he didn't, she would have been able to shoot up more than twice a day. Once in the morning and once before bed. It really was a game full of adrenaline. Would she be able to get through the day? She tried postponing the night shot as much as possible. She liked the pain. She loved torturing herself. The longest she had gone without it these days was 16 hours. She was proud of herself in a way. But it was fucked up really.
The only one who knew about her continuous drug abuse was Marilyn. As far as the others were concerned, she had stopped. But who was she kidding? It was obvious she was still on it. They just pretended she wasn't. Daisy chose to believe she had stopped. Daisy had really grown fond of her over the past few months. She was like a sister to him. His best friend really. So, the thought of her slowly falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole and slowly killing herself wasn't at all pleasant to him, and that was putting it lightly.
So Marilyn was in a way her confidant, which had definitely brought them closer together. Though neither would admit it, drugs had created a very strong bond between them. Just as she enjoyed her own suffering, he found it entertaining to watch her. They made a bet every morning. How long would she be able to last without it? They were both very competitive. So, when he bet against her, he tried his hardest to break her and when he bet on her, he, quite on the contrary, put a lot of effort in stopping her from taking it.
The fact of the matter was that, even if she kept continuously texting with Michael, he didn't really know her deepest secrets. But Marilyn did. It came suddenly, but both of them found themselves revealing their darkest secrets to each other.
.
"Come on Molly, you know you need it. It's just a push away. You can make the scratching go away. You can make the pain go away. You just have to heat it up and inject it. Oh, the sweet release of the snow-white powder." He had the sickest grin plastered on his evil face. Sweat dripped down her face. She had cramps in every single muscle. She knew she would break soon. But damn him if he would win that day. "Fuck you, Brian. Fuck you right in your perfectly sculptured ass. I am a strong independent woman. I don't need it right now. You shan't break me sir! I bid thee farewell." "Oh, come o-" "I bid thee farewell sir!" She fled to the balcony, hastily lighting her cigarette. The fresh air cooled her down a bit. "Hey, can you lend me your lighter?" He had joined her. They had agreed that the balcony was neutral ground. They were not allowed to talk bets while smoking. "Yeah sure, here you go." "You were really good today, Wuornos. I mean, you're always good, but you keep getting better and better with every show. I'm quite happy with my choice to take you into the band." "Back to surnames are we Manson?" "Oh, shut up." He was quiet for a few minutes. Contemplating the next question. Would it be a good idea to ask about Michael? Yeah, what's the worst that can happen? "So... How's your texting relationship with Michael going? Does mister perfect guy psychologist still tickle your fancy?" "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Brian?" "I asked first Molly..." "I don't know, okay? He's exactly what you called him. Mister perfect guy psychologist. And he seems so surreal to me. Like he doesn't really fit into my world. It seems to me that he keeps trying to "break through my shields" but I don't want him to. I'm so fucked up, you know? If he finds out who I truly am, he'll start analyzing me. He'll flee. He'll see me as a broken patient. There is no fucking way he'll still be interested in me if he truly gets to know me. Nobody would. I'm damaged goods. So, to answer your question, with every passing day he tickles it less and less. Because I'm a realist and a pessimist. Now it's your turn." He was quiet for a few minutes. He just regarded her with an interested look. She was tempted to ask again, but then he finally opened his mouth. "Not jealousy but not not jealousy either. I don't know why I asked you that question. I do agree that you're damaged goods, but then again so am I. I wouldn't agree with you that nobody would. But I do think that if you really do think he'll start regarding you as a patient, then maybe stop leading him on. Tell him who you are and if he starts treating you differently cut the ties. Though you could use a good psychologist. We both could. I don't know Molly. I know you quite well, I think, and you're a very intriguing person. Not as a subject to monitor but as a real person. You're very intelligent and well read. You have many talents. But you also have a troubled past. It's not surprising really, that you would seek refuge in drugs. What can one do if nothing else helps? And if he doesn't fit into your world, then maybe find somebody who does. Somebody who understands you. Somebody who won't try to change you completely. Somebody who will be there for you, no matter what. Someone who's closer than you might think. I don't know...I'm rambling, aren't I? Never mind... Anyway, he'd be a dumbass to let you go either way." She stared at him; mouth slightly agape. They had had "deep" conversations before. They had shared their secrets. But this was still different. They had never discussed their feelings toward each other. Up until this moment she didn't think them present, even. But somehow with his ramble, he had ever so slightly opened a door. A door that shouldn't be opened. Ever. She cleared her throat and said: "You know what, I think I'll let you win today. Give me my shot please."
He complied, of course but with a bit of reluctance.
What the fuck had happened. He was Marilyn fucking Manson, he didn't show feelings for people this easily. His mouth had never before betrayed him like this. It's not like he had uttered the words: I'm in love with you or anything, but what he had said made him wonder if those three words were that far from the truth. He really mustn't think this way. She's a band mate and a friend. A really good one at that. He wouldn't ruin it by talking about his feelings. How can he escape these thoughts? Oh, heroin.
.
Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock. "Jesus Christ I'm coming, I'm coming! WHAT?! Oh, hi Scott. What's up?" "Wanna hang out?" He asked, a smile on his face. "Yeah, of course! We don't have a concert tonight and this is my first time in Prague... Just give me 10 minutes to get ready. I'll meet you outside." He knew what "getting ready" meant. His smile slightly wavered, but he kept it on none the less. He told her sure and left.
She hastily grabbed her stuff and locked herself in the bathroom. A day with Scott sounded nice. She just needed her shot first. After she was done, she left the bathroom and quite literally bumped into Marilyn. "Oh sorry, here you go, the bathroom is yours." She muttered. He looked down at her. He saw she had gotten high again. He didn't comment anything except: "Fifty dollars you make it until midnight." She smiled lazily and said: "A hundred I can make it through until tomorrow morning." They shook hands and he asked her where she was going. "Around the city with Scott." "Oh." He replied flatly and closed the bathroom door behind him a bit loudly.
If she hadn't been so high, she may have been agitated by his constant mood swings, but she was high, so she just grabbed her jacket and left.
.
He didn't know what came over him, he just felt such rage whenever he saw them together. He knew they were just friends. Daisy wasn't stupid, he would never date a fellow band mate, right? But sleeping together isn't dating. They weren't sleeping together, though, right? Right. How could they be, she mostly hung out with him. And they always shared a room, wherever they were. His jealousy was uncalled for. He knew that. He was also aware of the fact that starting something with Molly was a terrible idea. She was his drummer. His friend. She was also addicted to drugs. An addict is never a good person to be in a relationship with. Never ever ever. He knew that. He seemed to know everything, and yet he still had these feelings. These feelings for her. These feelings of jealousy. What the hell was it with this particular person that drew him in? She wasn't conventionally beautiful. She made sure of that. They had had a conversation about it a while ago.
"I don't want to be viewed as an object. I had been viewed as one in high school. My looks were the reason I almost got raped by a classmate. He was drunk and he started touching me. I told him to stop, but he wouldn't. Then he started tugging at my clothes and wanted to take them off. I said no and he got really mad. He slapped me and started stripping. I was never a levelheaded person, so him slapping me really pissed me off. I wasn't as strong then as I am now, but I wasn't completely weak either. So, when he was undoing his buttons, I kicked him where it hurt and started running. After that I shaved my head and started wearing men's clothing. At first people called me a dyke and shit like that, but after a while they stopped, because I never cared enough to react, and they got bored. Soon after my 'change' I started using."
But even if she didn't care about her appearance, she still was beautiful in her own way. Very unconventionally, but beautiful none the less. He never was one to fall for classic beauties. For classic people even. He was always drawn to people who looked peculiar. To people who were fucked up, just like him. He found a kindred spirit in them. For he had always been searching for someone who would understand his turmoil. And Molly was one of those people, there was no doubt in that. Was that why he had latched on to her so desperately? Was he afraid of losing their connection because of someone else? "This is way too fucking emotional for me. Who am I? When did I start dealing with emotions? God fucking damn it." He went into the bathroom again and started looking around. Then he found what he was looking for. He heated it on the already singed spoon and then injected it. Sweet oblivion.
.
"We have to get a beer in a pub, okay? This is Prague we're talking about!" Daisy exclaimed excitedly. "Dude I'm with you! And then we can maybe visit the castle. I heard there's plenty of art museums here. And I'm interested in visiting the museum of communism." He nodded in reply.
They found a pub on Vaclav's square and each ordered a pint of Kozel. For a while they sat in silence, regarding one another. "So..." she started but was interrupted when Scott put his hand up. "Look, Molly I know you're still using. And if you sharing a room with Manson is part of the reason for you doing it, I will demand you stay with me from now on. I care about you a lot, you know, and seeing you destroy yourself is killing me." She saw the anguish in his eyes. But she couldn't bring herself to really really care. She was an addict and as such she was a very selfish being. The feelings of her friends and family came second to her need for drugs. What she did feel was surprise that he had brought her addiction up in the first place. "Scott, Brian has nothing to do with this. Staying with him is actually stopping me from using more than I actually am." Scott rolled his eyes at her statement. "I don't know what the deal between you two is, but I do know that I would be able to keep you from doing it completely." "Oh yeah? And how would you manage to do that? Keep me locked in our room? Drag me by my hand everywhere? You are not my mother. Ha! She would have actually tried to steal my shit. Trust me, not you nor anyone else can stop me from using. Brian understands that, why can't you?" "Don't you see that Manson is an addict too? You two are just supporting one another in your nasty habits! Get it through your thick scull. The two of you being together is just going to end up in one or both of you dying." Now she was starting to get angry. "How dare you talk to me about drugs? I remember the first night with you guys. All of you high on something. You did h too. So don't you fucking try to make me feel bad about my habits before you get yours in check. I have my own free will and if I want to kill myself slowly I will. Don't you think there's a reason behind it? Have you ever stopped to ask yourself, why I would get myself into the thing that ended my parents' lives? And stop pulling Brian into this! Do you realize what he must be going through? He hasn't been able to enjoy himself with a stupid bimbo ever since I've been staying with him. Hasn't had a second to himself in months. I really can't say it's been fun for him. But he does it. For me. You guys pretending I'm clean and sober is far less helpful than Brian providing me with quality shit, twice a day." She gulped down her drink, threw her money on the table and stormed away. She knew Scott wouldn't come after her. And she was glad. They both needed time to cool off.
.
He was lying on the bed counting the seconds. Being alone was killing him. What were Daisy and Molly doing? Would he kiss her? What if she actually liked him too? "NO. I WILL STOP BEING A LITTLE BITCH."
The door flew open and in came a fuming Molly. She stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. He heard something smashing on the floor and what sounded like glass breaking. A muffled "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT" sounded through the closed door. He immediately got up and started banging on the door. "Molly, what's wrong?" Silence. "Molly! Open up!" Silence. "MOLLY I AM BREAKING DOWN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT IF YOU DON'T OPEN IT." Nothing happened. He thought 'here goes nothing' and slammed into the door, which gave way easily. She was sitting in the bathtub, crying. He looked her up and down and saw that she was bleeding. He sighed and went to get the first aid kit. Then he silently helped her wash the glass out of her wounds and put gauze around them. Then he picked her up and carried her to his bed. She clutched his arm, and he got the signal. He laid beside her and held her for what felt like hours.
Suddenly she turned to look at him and put her hand on his face. He smiled at her and she smiled back. "Let's go have a smoke, shall we?" She asked him. "Yeah, this has become way too sappy for my taste." She chuckled and got up, grabbing his hand. It felt so warm and protective around her much smaller one. She liked the feeling. She liked it a lot. Shaking her head to snap out of it she said: "Come on Antichrist Superstar we don't have all day."
At the remark he jumped up and picked her up, then ran to the balcony. "Put me down! Hahahaha!" She was laughing so hard, tears started streaming down her face. He held her above the ground over the balcony railing. "Oh? You want me to put you down?" She shrieked and clutched him harder. "No no no no please don't!" He laughed evilly and put her on the balcony ground.
She slapped his shoulder and muttered: "Fucking dipshit." He chuckled in response and said: "Love you too." Which made her slap him again. "So, what got your panties in a twist earlier?" Her mood darkened in a second. "Doesn't matter, it's over now." He sighed and nodded. If she didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't force her. He knew that she would open up in due time. "How was Prague? Did you see anything interesting?" "No." "Really? Nothing?" "No, we didn't really get past the pub, when I decided to come back." So, it must have had something to do with Daisy. But what? "You know what? I think it's time I put you on the stand. Why were you so angry this morning, Brian? Why did you break down the bathroom door earlier, Brian?" He gave her an annoyed look. "Are you jealous of Scott, Brian? Were you worried about me, Brian?" She could see that he was starting to become angry. "Do you have feelings for me, Brian? Do you-" He cut her off with a kiss. Which she returned gladly. It was very passionate. Electricity filled the air around them. Brian lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He carried them inside and threw her on the bed. Then he crawled on top of her and started kissing her again. She could feel him getting hard. So, she lifted her hips and started rubbing herself against him and he moaned against her lips. She growled and bit his bottom lip. He grabbed a fist full of her hair and tilted her head to the side with some force, then started attacking her neck which made her gasp. She started tearing his shirt off and he did the same with hers. Soon all their clothing was on the floor and he pushed inside her. She screamed out in pleasure and he just kept pushing and pushing. Harder. Faster. Then he slowed down for a bit and they started kissing passionately again, which made him push faster and harder again. After a few minutes he pulled it out and turned her around. He grabbed her hair and pulled it with one hand and held her neck with the other. He nibbled on her earlobe while pushing his erection inside her. He went so fast she became a bit dizzy, but she still screamed in pleasure. "I'm going to cum!" she exclaimed which pushed them both over the edge. She collapsed on the bed and he collapsed on top of her.
After a few minutes they finally started breathing normally again. "Woah, that was... Woah." "Cat got your tongue "God of fuck"?" He play punched her shoulder and said: "Shut up Wuornos." "Back to surnames, oh yeah!" He shook his head and chuckled. "Cig?" "Oh yeah, of course."
"I never understood the appeal of sex until today if I'm being honest. You deserve the nickname, sir." She shook his hand and winked. "Dude, you deserve the nickname too. Yeah, I'm going to start calling you Goddess of Fuck." She bowed in mock grace. They both laughed loudly.
"Oy, mind if we come over?" They looked to the right and saw their band mates on the balcony next to them. Manson sighed but Wuornos laughed again and said: "Not at all! I've always wanted to have a sleepover with my girl-friends." "We'll be there in a jiff." Marilyn grunted and went to unlock the door. "Guess we should put some clothes on, huh?" He said on the way back. "Yeah, we could."
.
Daisy didn't come over, but the other two did. They all drank wine and watched movies on the big plasma screen tv. When the last movie ended, Molly checked the time. It was 4 A.M., Pogo and Twiggy, were asleep and spooning. Brian was still awake and regarding Molly with an interested look in his eyes. Molly didn't notice. She was looking at the two guys spooning on her bed. She turned around and whispered: "Hey do you have your phone on you? Take a picture of Togo or Piggy. Yeah, Piggy is a better couple name hahahahaha!" Brian turned his head and looked at them. He started laughing too. He took the photo and sent it to Molly. Then he motioned to her that he was going for a cig and if she wanted to come with.
"I am so going to hold it over their heads for the rest of their lives. Hahaha!" "Oh yeah, I think this should be our next album cover. Marilyn Manson and the Spooning kids. Hahahahah!" he agreed. "We should hit the hay too you know. We leave early in the morning." "Hey, you made it through the day, a few more hours and you'll win the bet." "We agreed on not talking bets on the balcony." Her arm started twitching when she remembered her drug of choice. It had almost been 24 hours since the last injection. God fucking damn it. Why was she so hooked on it? She felt trapped again. "Hey. Molly. Hey! Come on, look at me. It's fine, you know. You made it through the day. I think quitting completely wouldn't be that hard for you at this point. You just need a distraction." "No, that's not how it works. Distracting me isn't an answer. It would postpone the inevitable, yes. But that's all." "I'm sorry. I know how it is. I shouldn't push you this way." "It's fine. I understand. If the roles were reversed, I'd want you to try to stop too. I get that you care. It's sweet really. And maybe someday I will. It's either that or I die. Well, I die either way, that's the only thing that keeps me going really. I've just felt so disengaged my whole life. There have been very few moments of actual happiness or active presence in my own life and body. And I can tell you that you are the only person that has brought them forth. I don't think I've ever been happier than I was today, with you. When we had sex, I felt so alive. And I am so thankful for that Brian. You make me feel less disengaged with every passing day. So yeah, I can see myself stopping completely someday, because of you."