Good Friends and a Few Hours of Music

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

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A story about troubles in life and how friends and music are the best solution.

“What the hell were you thinking?”  My father’s words snap me out of the trance of a decent song by Cryptopsy; of course I can’t recall the song right now because there are so many decent ones by that band.  And even if I could recall it, and give your ear hole a dose, I’d doubt they’d make any sense to you, because all you would hear is RARARARARRAAA!  Listening to death metal isn’t easy… and Cryptopsy, fronted by Lord Worm, is the hardest thing to comprehend in the world.  The vocals are guttural growls, and the only way to follow along with what the vocalist is saying is to read the lyrics sheet provided.  And even THAT’S hard to do since the lyrics are chicken scratch.

I could go on and on… but, let’s move on shall we?

“What the hell were you thinking?” My father repeats, inching closer to my splayed form on the chair across from him.  My mother just sits there, a mute, pulling out a cigarette from a pack.  It’s her last one; I can tell since she lets out a deep sigh and looks as if that cigarette is a child she has to give up.  She lights it up, stops to think about it, then takes a drag.  Lucky!  I wish I had it easy like she does.  Her addiction gives her an excuse to quit.

Me?  I am not that lucky.  In case you’re wondering just what the hell I am talking about, I’ll spell it out for you now: I am a music addict!  What?  Were you expecting a meth or heroine addict?  Well… SURPRISE!  Nope… no brain altering, body destroying drugs to boot here.  Just a few hundred CDs and over one thousand dollars invested in them.  Now, before you shake your head and say “CDs cannot be an addiction…” just listen:

Anything can be an addiction.  It’s a fact.  I’ve met people who have had things ranging from eating, to drugs, to sex that they call an addiction.  And I’ve seen them take it all in like candy… and then act like it’s nothing and beg for more.  An addiction… by my definition, is something that forces you to forsake everything (or pushes you to do such a thing) to have something.  That is my case… currently at this moment.  My mother, myself, and my father sitting at the dinner table arguing over my mother’s latest credit card bill.  The charges: I stole over two hundred and fifty dollars to get CDs because I “wanted them.”  At least… that’s my parents charge.  The verdict: guilty.

Do I dare argue?  With the verdict I certainly don’t.  It’s true I stole over two hundred and fifty dollars from my parents to buy CDs.  But, I do disagree with their statement I got the CDs because I wanted them.  I didn’t want them; I needed them.  I’ve been in need of CDs for the past three years.  Ever since I started listening to music, I’ve found it like a perfect pleasure trip to the brain.  I love it, and I need it.  It is the only thing that makes me happy amid all the shit and fighting that goes on between my family and life itself.  After a long day of work and the boss’s orders, I could just come home, pop in a CD, and it wouldn’t yell at me.  Well… I take that back actually, because what I listen to most of the time is metal, and metal DOES yell!

My parents eventually got sick of me buying what they called “crap,” so they just threw it all out.  No big deal at first.  I just bought more CDs than necessary; I always needed something in my ear hole.  My parents took those too, and put a suspension on my incomes.  That’s when I just decided, “Fuck them, I need my music.”  So I started stealing from them, and hid the CDs whenever I could.  Of course, that got found out, and I got slapped around a mighty bit as punishment.  And the CDs, of course, were taken.  They just didn’t get it. When you fight an addiction, you don’t just take away the needle as a whole, you get placebos.  And I wasn’t getting anything.  All I wanted was the money back; money spent on the music.  “Tough shit,” my parents said.  So, I was left with nothing; which prompted me into the downward spiral of taking all the money I could from them to get music, to get some peace of mind.

Over time, the constant fighting about CDs lessened, and when I turned of a decent age, they finally let me buy the CDs I wanted.  Of course that didn’t stop them from complaining about the music choices I made, but they couldn’t do anything about it.  However, like a drug addiction, there are times when the rush you get from the music doesn’t satisfy like it used to.  I remember when I could get an album, and it would keep me content for a month.  Now, the magic only lasts a day.  Now, I know you’re probably asking “Well why don’t you just quit?”  Ah, if only it were so easy.  Thing is, unlike my mother and her cigarettes, I have absolutely no reason to quit. 

This just goes to show how bad I became regarding music.  This just goes to show how far I went to obtain nineteen CDs in one week.  This goes to show why the hell I’m at this table, fighting about something that I thought had been laid to rest a year ago, and why I’m bothering to tell you this story in the first place, taking you through almost every step so you can live it through my voice.  I sit there, staring at my dad as he yells at me, shaking his fist with the balled up bill in his hand.  “You bought nineteen CDs in one week!” he shouts.  “What were you thinking?”

“When you’re addicted to something… you don’t think about it… you go on impulse.” I say softly.

BAM.  I’m on the floor in a moment as my dad lunges and smacks me across the face.  The hit burns, but I’m used to it.  Getting slapped around by my dad when he doesn’t know what else to with me is not anything new.  My mom rises and says in a small meek voice, before going back to sucking on her cigarette, “Garvin, don’t hit him!  You’ll leave scars!”

My dad ignores my mom, turning back to me.  “You… do not have an addiction!  You are just a fucking immature child who cannot control your buying impulses… I… I don’t know what to do with you!”

“Hitting me around a bit seems to working for you.  So you obviously know what to do with me!”  I know I’m asking for it, but I love conflict.  Perhaps the metal music I listen to really is fucking me up….?  Nah.

Another slap, and this time I’m ready for it.  Turn to the side a bit so it just grazes… ah just a flesh wound.  I’ll live.  Another blow, faster this time, and I go down again, face meeting with the tile.

“Do you want another lesson?  Just try me!” my dad snaps, raising his hand again.

Dealing with my dad about what he did to 'teach me' was never something I could fully learn, but it taught me something about human nature: you either deal with conflicts through ignorance or violence.  My dad, in order to gain a balance and feel secure, feels he must control aspects of others' lives.  But, he can only control what he understands, and as far as my turning of sixteen and from that point on, to three years later, I basically became a total loss to him.  Where was the angelic child he had raised?  What happened to the sounds of Goo Goo Dolls and Faith Hill?  Thrown out the fucking window, I'll tell you that much.  Gone! Kaput!  Out with the old and in with the new.What changed me- changed us both- was the metal. It was the one brand of music he hated (due to it just being noise, cursing and disgusting content), and just so happened to be the brand I loved and will cherish forever.  Why, you ask?I can't say why, because I don't know.These are one of those moments when "because" will have to do.  Now, my dad used to control me through grounding, and restriction, and stuff like that.  But, I learned that I could just wait it out.  I found loopholes (blessed be the loopholes), such as staying at friends to use the computer to chat, swim in their pools, and just fun.  I basically defeated my dad’s purpose.  So, he resorted to the only tool of control he had left: violence. 

I lie there on the floor for a bit, stunned from the blow.  I'm seeing stars and hell... is that Jesus I see waving at me and smiling?  You think this is funny?  Hey buddy, here is my middle finger.... now come down and smite this bastard who's hitting me here!  Hands on me... aw fuck... my dad must've thought I was flipping off him.  I’m thrown against the wall.  OUCH.  I fall to the floor, again, probably for the third time that night.  My mom is screaming, but not moving.  Damn it, get up and call the police.  Call somebody.  I'm no Jedi; I can't use the Force and have it soaring to my hand.  Hell, if I was a Jedi, I'd be a fucking Sith Lord and crush my dad's throat.  That would be a damned sweet way to end this story.  But, this story is far from over.

"Listen you...” my father snaps at me as he lifts me off the floor.  “You will not use those words at me in my house... and if you flip me off one more time I will break that finger..."

I don't say anything; best to keep my mouth shut now.  My dad slaps me to get my attention, but I don't really feel it.  I'm so far away in my mind, with my music going through my head.  What song?  I believe it is Godsmack’s Whatever.  “Better fucking go away/ I’m doing the best I ever did/ now go away!”  Ring a bell for anyone?  I can see his lips moving, but I can't hear what he's saying.  Probably once again expressing how I am a child, how I have to pay the bill, blah blah...  I basically just nod my head, agreeing with whatever the hell he's saying.  I know I'm not being rational, but when you've just been thrown and slapped about like a rag doll, you want to get out of there.  And that's exactly what I do.

The moment my dad lets me go I took off, out the door, to my car.  I sit inside, lock the doors, and crank up the music.  What the hell?  Evanescence?  No, no!  Nothing sad and gothic!  I want anger!  I want hate!  I want some fucking cursing and heaviness to get all of what just happened out of my system.  Ah, here we go, Lamb of God’s Sacrament.  Track 10: More Time to Kill.  WOHOO... perfect!  I drive... windows down, music blasting, screaming all the way.  "Get one thing straight from the get-go, I truly don't give a FUCK about you.I never have and I never will.  Every day you breathe means more time to kill!"  All the while I am screaming the music is acting as a void, sucking out all the anger and pain from what happened just minutes ago.  Hot damn!  I already feel better!  Of course, I know it’ll be a while before I actually feel normal.

  I pause at a red light, taking a break from vocalizing and listen to the guitar solo.  An older couple stares across from me in their own car; shocked expressions on their faces.  I'm not sorry; I’m angry and if the world has to suffer me singing metal for me to feel better, then so be it!  The light turns green and I shoot forward.  Drive for a bit more; then it’s time to go to the one place I feel comfortable at: the place with good friends and a few hours of music.  Sometimes you need friends to help you out; you can’t always do things on your own.

I go to see Faust, Jet, Eden, Gem, and Jezebel: the Circle of Tyrants (along with me of course) as I call them.  Yes I know it’s a Celtic Frost reference (and I enjoy Celtic Frost… Monotheist was an incredible album), but it also comes from the good old pastime called Monopoly.  Basically, we get together every Friday night, and get down to a nice long game of whoever rules the board.  There are bets on who will win, oh yes indeed (five dollars at least… but it can go up to twenty), and even more fun twists. We’re a malicious bunch.  Basically, when you owe someone some big dollars, we give options aside from just coughing up the cash.  Property, of course, is one of them.  But we also have a way with stripping.  Basically, you can lose a piece of clothing depending on how much you owe.  Socks and shoes… for example, are worth a hundred or less.  Shirts and pants are worth a thousand… sometimes more; depends on the generosity of whoever is owed the payments.  Undergarments…?  Well, that’s only for the very, very bold.  Of course it’s all up to the individual.  They can just quit.  Of course, if you quit, you automatically are going to owe real cash to the winner.  And nobody likes to lose money easily.  So, by the end of the game, some people are basically down to their birthday suits.  We aren’t swingers, but we damned well can be raunchy.  But, nobody goes to the full nude, ever.  Call it embarrassment, or whatever, but when it’s down to the boxers or thongs, people drop out.  Usually, whoever ends up ruling the board is the tyrant because they forge alliances with other players so people can get knocked off the board faster; only in the end the tyrant backstabs his partners.  So much for honorable business these days…

Well what do you know, it’s Friday night, and right when I knock on the door, guess who answers?  It’s Gem, the prettiest of us all, and she’s topless.  I start to laugh.  “Losing already are we, Gem?”

“Codeine!  You’re here!  The game’s been going on for two hours and I’m getting my ass kicked!  We thought you’d forgotten, and we’ve been calling-“  She pauses at my face.  “Oh… what happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it…”  Of course that’s such a stupid thing to say because I know ten minutes into the visit I’ll break down and start talking about it.  I’m not one to bottle things up around friends.  I step in and the first thing I notice is someone was kind enough to put some black metal on the stereo.  The rest of my friends are circled around the board; some have shirts, some don’t.  My girlfriend, Jezebel, is in the corner, dressed in a skimpy Emperor Prometheus shirt, tight black shorts, and knee high black boots.  Hot!  She looks up and smiles, dropping her cash and property and jumping at me.  “Codeine!Babe!  You’re here…”  She pauses, knowing something’s wrong.  Usually I’m grinning upon an arrival, but not tonight.  “Hey… what’s wrong?

Upon her words, the whole room stops and looks at me.  Jet stares, like he doesn’t believe what he sees.  “Hey dude… what happened, did you get into a fight?”

“You could say that…”  I sigh then sit in the nearby corner and howl.  I know there’s a saying that boys aren’t supposed to cry, but whoever said that obviously didn’t get abused at home and couldn’t do a thing about it.  So… fuck that!  “Fucking got hit again!” I bawl.  “My dad fucking promised me wouldn’t do it again, but here I fucking am!  I can’t fucking believe it...”

Everyone gets up and huddles around me.  I shut my eyes.  I’m the oldest of the group by a year, but right now I am acting like the youngest.  My face still burns from the blows and all I can do is choke in sobs.  Goddamn.  I hate it when I get like this, but in the security of my friends, I feel like I can do anything I want.  And all I want to do is just cry out the pain.  Jezebel pulls me into her embrace like the black metal angel she is and caresses my hair, telling me it’s all right.  The rest stare at me, ready to attention.  That’s the thing about us; we’re family.  If one of us is hurting, we all hurt.  There are no secrets among the Circle of Tyrants.  And, everyone tries to help the others so they can get back to their happy, tyrannical selves.

“Dude… I’ll fucking kill him!” Eden snaps, rising for the door.  “This has gone far enough!”  Eden’s always the one wanting to spring to action; he, Gem, and Jet have been the only three that have been there for me when the days went dark and the abuse started.  Jet and Gem are currently dating; those two have the weirdest relationship I know.  They always fight and throw insults at each other, but are perfectly happy about it.  I’ll never understand it.  Faust and his sister, Jezebel, are recent additions to my friendship.  Faust is more of the calm, laid back one; he, like me, relies on music to purify his feelings.  Except he’s so damned good at it compared to me.  I asked him to mentor me at it but he says it was a gift given to him by the devil for his soul; not something that can be learned.  Jezebel is my love, my life, my black metal angel, my… oh hell you get it already!  She’s always there for me when I need her, and she’s addicted to my tongue.  I don’t think I need to elaborate on this… but I’ll just say the word starts with a C and ends with an “ingus.” 

All right, now that you know my dear friends to their black metal souls, back to the story…

“No… no… I’ll be… fine…” I say.  I really don’t want to take this beyond what I feel is a decent level of control.  I came to see my friends and lover to get away; not get thrown back to it.

“You don’t look fine…” Jet says quietly.  “Want something?”

“My face is all right for now… but can I have some water?” I nod.

Jet gets up, caring as ever and ready to take care of me.  I wave people away and sit down on the floor; the worst of my angst is over.  I feel better.  Goddamn, the music didn’t do all I hoped it would.  Note to self: listen to something heavier when you’re sad!  Maybe some Slayer: Christ Illusion?

Jezebel strokes my face and presses me to her, softly growling the first metal song I ever sent to her in a love mix: “In the name of torment, in the name of pain.  We spit our venom in the face of Jesus Christ.  In this season of monumental horror we hunger for heavenly termination.  Of blood and wine we shall devour.  Become one with us… for we are entwined by vengeance!”  I smile; hot damn I love that song.  I love her.  She’s the one metal fiend in the world I can trust.  I rape and pillage my mind for some memories: our first metal concert at Behemoth, screaming and making out in the crowd, watching gruesome movies and freaking out, midnight walks under a starlit sky… the memories go on forever.

We all sit around the board in the white walled rooms.  The Dark Throne CD has ended, and Faust, after embracing me like he always does in a greeting, nods to the player.  “Go ahead… put something on… something to make you feel better.  We’ll set things up while you get yourself put together…”

“Thanks...”  I stumble to the CD player and look at the music selection.  H.I.M?  No way… I’m sad up about abuse, not love.  Cannibal Corpse?  Hmm… perhaps.  I’d sure like to hack somebody to pieces.  But, I better not risk it.  I keep flipping through the CD sleeves till I find something.  Ah, Opeth.  It’s long, epic, dark, and heavy yet melodic.  A balance, if I may say.  I need a balance to put myself back on track.  The albums of choice: Ghost Reveries, BlackwaterPark, and Still Life.  I put the CDs on and sit at the board; Jezebel rests her head against my shoulder.  Faust deals out the money and the pieces and hands me the dice.  “Highest roll goes first.  We’ll let the ‘master tyrant’ make the first one since he won last time…”  I saw him roll his eyes.  “… like he always does.”

We roll, just like game does.  And we talk, just like money does.

“So… tell us more about what happened…” Jet asks.

“What’s to tell?  I argued and I got hit…” I reply

“Yea, but what did you do…?”

“Borrowed my mom’s credit card and spent over four hundred dollars on CDs.”

The room goes stock still.  Eden snorts and shakes his head.  “Serves you right then….”

Jezebel gives him a venomous look and goes back to resting her head on my shoulder.  I stared at Eden.  “I had money to pay her back for it…”

“That doesn’t excuse you stealing-“

“I borrowed without permission… not stole…”

“Same thing-“

Faust sighs and slaps his palms together, creating a sonic boom that shuts us both up.  “Enough of you two… Codeine… I know I’ve said this once but I’ll say it again: you are a crazy son of a bitch with your CD buying tendencies.  But, as long as you can pay your mother back, then there’s no problem.  That doesn’t justify you getting hit.  You’re dad’s an asshole who needs to calm down…”

Eden rolls his eyes.  “Thank you oh great master wise one that so dutifully worships Satan… anything else?”

Faust just flipped him off.

Gem and Jet laughed and Eden shook his head, biting his lip.  I waved my hands.  “Look… forget it OK… I came here to FORGET about this… not get reminded.”

“Oh you want to forget… I’ll make you forget…” Gem lifts up her shirt and flashes me, and I just have to laugh.  The exhibiting slut.

“AH GOD, MY EYES!” I shout, pretending to go blind.

Jezebel bursts out laughing and leans over me, giving me another kiss and running her hands down my face.  Jet snorts.

“If you two are going to fool around, then drop the game and we’ll play without you.  Go to Jezebel’s bedroom…”

“Wait… I’m coming!  I want to watch!” Gem grins.

“No you aren’t, love,” Jet says as he grabs her and wrestles her to the floor.  I chuckle and sit back up.  “All right… come on… lets keep going…”

“On about what?  The game... or me?” Jezebel asks, licking her lips.

“The game, darling… the game…”


After a few hours, I’m actually in a tight spot for money.  Jet and Eden are basically tag teaming the rest of us.  Gem is down to just her pants again (for some reason I think she strips down at the beginning of the game for the hell of it), Jezebel has her own little empire but she won’t share the love.  And Faust, like me, is struggling, but unlike me, he has the funds.  And just my luck, I end up landing on Eden’s highest ranking motels.  He grins at me.  “Oh boy… one thousand, Codeine.  Pay up?  Oh you can’t… since you only have a hundred!”  I hate it when people rub things in.  “OK… what are my options?” I growl.  I know I’m basically screwed.

“Well… you ain’t got shit that I want.  So…. lose the shirt or pants…”

I shrug and toss the shirt off; easy enough.  I make my roll.  Jump to chance… go back three spaces?  Aw no fucking way!  Back right to where I started!  Eden laughs again.  “My… luck is not kind to you today… lose the pants…”

I shake my head.  Just to embarrass me… that bastard.  I lose the pants, just sitting there in my boxers.  Goddamn I feel small and vulnerable.  I’ve never had to lose this much clothing in my gaming history among the Circle of Tyrants.  I hope to get some more money soon…  The round makes it way back to me- nobody pays me jack shit.  I make another roll, and land on Gem’s property.  Shit, I can’t pay it!  I look at her and she grins.  “Well well… looks like you’re going to be the first one to become a full nude among the group.  Unless you quit of course…”

I swallow.  If anything, I don’t quit.  I stay in things till the end.  And, if there are prices to pay, I’ll pay it.  Lose the boxers and try not to blush too hard.  Everyone is shocked, some are laughing because it’s funny, and some can’t believe I did it.  I swallow and glare.  “All right… now you’re ALL going down!”

Jezebel nudges me and tosses off her tops.  “Here… I ‘loan’ you a few chances to keep your clothes…”

Eden stares.  “Hey… hey… you can’t do that!”

“Who said I couldn’t?  If you and Jet can gang rape us and combine your money, then I sure can lend my boyfriend a few ‘keep the clothes for free’ cards.”  It was a bad joke, but we all laugh anyway.  I nod to her, and slide my boxers and pants back on.  “You know… you COULD have done that BEFORE I stripped down…”

“Oh I know babe… I just wanted to embarrass you for a bit…”

“Oh… thank you ever so much!”  I let the sarcasm pour out of my mouth like a tidal wave and sit back.

The game goes on.  Lady luck stopped being bitch and instead turns to the sweet whore she always tends to be towards me when we play Monopoly.  I ended up getting money so I could pay dues and buff up the properties I owned.  Jet and Eden’s empire crumbled since everyone else imposed an “amnesty” upon every other player except those two.  Gem dropped out because she got wiped out by me and Faust.  She even bothered to strip down to her skin alone, but that didn’t save her.  But, like I said, she has a thing for nakedness.  Makes me wonder what she sees in Jet, since he is the complete opposite of her.  Jezebel dropped out; she basically just got tired of the whole thing after four hours and told me to meet her in the nearby bedroom when we’re done.  I can only anticipate what she has in mind.  Then it just came down to me and Faust, and the key here was whoever can backstab the first fastest wins.  As it turned out, Faust was the faster of the two us.  He used up most of our funds to upgrade our property, then split the minimal money between up when we had to separate, which just so happened to be right when I landed on his property  Amnesty gone, I was forced to pay.  And then I just said the hell with it, since I would have been forced to lose both my clothes since the cost was 2000.  Oh sure Faust would have had to lose clothes too if I had given up the goods; he would have landed on my properties at some point, but he still had his shirt to lose.  One step ahead of me.  So, I quit, knowing I was going to lose anyway.  I know I just said I’m not a quitter… but when you’re as tired and unhappy as I was that night, you just want to say the hell with it and move on to better things.  In my case, this was Jezebel.

I stumble off to where Jezebel had headed off to.  Make a left at the stairs and I climb; try not to lose step and trip and fall.  Make a left at the top and enter the first room on the right.  Jezebel’s room.  The room itself is dark and I can’t see a damn thing except whatever the orange candles illuminate. But hot damn, I like it.  Black sheets on the bed among all the rock and metal band posters.  Door slams shut.  I hear a small cough from behind me and the click of a speaker.  No doubt Jezebel turned on her stereo.  Cradle of Filth… can’t place the track… ah yes I can.  Mannequin… off their Damnation and a Day album: a favorite of mine.  Let the lyrics sink in… “I recall the first moon of May/ ‘neath which we lay together….”  The girl sure knows how to please.  I feel her hands on my chest, but I still can’t see well because my eyes need to adjust to the dark.  Body pushed towards the bed.  The shirt comes off and I feel the warmth of her breasts against my chest; her breath in my ear.  I can’t see her, but I know she’s smiling.  “What took you so long babe?  Who won…?” Jezebel asks, running fingers up and down my body.

“Your brother’s the master tyrant now,” I murmur, enjoying her touch.  “I’ve been dethroned.”

“Aw, don’t worry… I’ll make it all better.  Just relax…”


A few hours later we’re both snuggled up against each other, smiling, exhausted, but in pure relaxation at the same time.  I remember the first time we had sex, two years ago.  She was so scared; I remember her shaking so badly when I laid her down.  But, she took it well, and I took it gently.  And it had ended up being a good night.  I remembered lying next to her amongst the menstrual blood and semen while she slept in my arms, and I grinned and thought I don’t want to be anywhere else.  This is perfect.  I don’t want to be anywhere else.

As I lay there, perfectly content and satisfied, I repeat those same words.  “This is perfect.  I don’t want to be anywhere else.”  A knock at the door; I get up, quiet not to wake Jezebel.  Faust is standing there, looking at his sleeping sister, then me.  “Hey… did you rock her world?”

“Made her light up like a pinball machine and pay off in silver dollars…”

Faust tries not to burst out laughing and pats my shoulder.  “Good… I like it when I hear you’re treating my sister well.”

“Only the best for my black metal angel…”  I sigh and go out to the kitchen for another glass of water.  “So where is Jet, Eden, and Gem?”

“They left about five minutes ago… they all told me to tell you good night and don’t bang too hard…”

I snort.  Those three never fully appreciated a good fucking.  “Do you mind if I spend the night…?”

Faust points to himself.  “Me?  Shun you… my best friend?  My little Satanic music protégé?  Never!  Besides, Jezebel would kill you if she woke up the next morning without you there, and then kill me for kicking you out.  That just is not a good way to start a day.”

“No it isn’t…”  I sigh.  “Thanks for everything tonight… the food, music, awesome fucking sister, and friendship…”

Faust smiles and gives me another hug.  “Of course, brother, of course…  I suppose I’ll let you get back to my sister then?”

“That’d be nice…”  We bid each other goodnight and I walk back to Jezebel’s room.  Shutting the door quietly, I notice the Cradle of Filth CD had stopped running.  I quietly reach for her rack of CDs and place one on at random.  I grin at the first track: Bible Basher; I must have selected Insinerathym by Deicide.  Mmm… perfect.  I crawl back under the black sheets and stroke Jezebel’s face; she sighs and smiles.  I lean over and tickle her ear with my tongue.

“Nights my black metal angel… I love you…”

Submitted: May 19, 2007

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