Personal Jesus (Twiggy Ramirez and Marilyn Manson Fan Fiction)

Chapter Five

*Marilyn's POV*

Pogo handed a battered, bruised and unconscious Twiggy over to me and I held him firmly, keeping him pressed close to my chest as if I could make his bruises go away by giving him my affection.

I sat on the grass with him in my arms before I took off his shoes, socks and last but not least, his typical Star Wars hoodie. Gasping, I had to look away, I had to look anywhere but at him. He had large bruises covering almost every inch of him; some were old and on their way to healing, some where somewhat new, and others looked to be fresh and just developing, as if they were only a day or two old.

"Damn it Twiggs..." I murmured as I looked at him again.

Twiggy didn't look anxious, scared or nervous when he was unconscious. I would say he looked peaceful but the dark bruises he had, stamped out anything that resembled peace.

"Manson.. uh.. are you OK?" Pogo asked, clearing his throat and sitting beside me.

It was then when I noticed I had tears streaming down my face, warm tears which fell onto Twiggy's cheeks.

"I just.. who could do such a thing to him? It's Twiggy! He wouldn't hurt a fly! He couldn't even if he wanted to! I... he's..." I felt strangled and couldn't speak no more.

"Here, take his jeans and shirt off and wrap him in a towel or something before he gets too cold." Pogo instructed.

Strangely, I couldn't bring myself to move. I was too shocked and it felt as if someone had punched a hole through my chest. Pogo attempted to pull Twiggy away, but I refused to loosen my grip, somewhat scared that if let go, he'd disappear like I was trapped in a nightmare. Someone had hurt Twiggy... my Twiggy.

"Manson, come on." Pogo said firmly.

Shaking my head, I felt a few more tears escape my eyes. I didn't care if I looked like a wuss, I cared about Twiggy, and I was damn near positive that I had fallen in love with him.

"He'll get sick." Pogo told me, knowing that I wouldn't want that.

"Hand me my shirt?" I asked.

It came out sounding more like a choked whisper than a sentence, I just couldn't handle the knowledge of Twiggy being hurt this way.

"Sure." He told me.

Pogo got up and went to my clothes bringing back my shirt, socks and shoes.

"Thanks.."

I pulled off Twiggy's soggy shirt to replace it with my own dry shirt so he wouldn't be cold, but froze, a wave of nausea almost overpowering me at what I saw.

"..Holy shit.." Pogo breathed, shock evident in his voice.

Twiggy's torso was littered with bruises, his rib cage was so visible it looked as it was going to break free of his skin. He was practically a skeleton! He was way too thin and bony! And that wasn't just it; his skin had large scars, as if he'd been cut by something a few times, as well as burn scars. It looked as if someone ad stumped their cigarettes out on his chest...

"Let me do it." Pogo said shakily, and pulled my shirt over Twiggy's head.

He switched his socks and shoes before putting a towel on him as a blanket. After that, we just sat and stared. I was shaking and tears would occasionally slip from my eyes.

*

"It's going to be getting dark soon."

I heard Pogo loud and clear, but didn't look at him. I couldn't take my eyes off of Twiggy who still hadn't woken up. God, he looked so vulnerable! It was unbearable seeing this..