Personal Jesus (Twiggy Ramirez and Marilyn Manson Fan Fiction)

Chapter Thirteen

Sometimes things happen and you can kind of expect it. You could have a moment where you expected something to happen, like if you were to trip up, someone could help you to your feet and ask if you were OK. Then there are things that happen that you didn't see coming in a million years. Naturally, Marilyn made such a situation occur.

Lying on my worn down mattress still, I gazed up at my cracked ceiling. I planned on waiting for my father to drink himself into unconsciousness so I could sneak out. I'd go to Marilyn's for the time being. How to not get caught again in the future was still a mystery to me; it seemed inevitable, like pushing a great big giant brick wall. Nothing I did would change the fact that the wall would be there standing firm as ever.

However, upon pondering my future plans there was a sudden explosion of sound from downstairs. There were orders being yelled, crashing, smashing, voices shouting and stomping. I knew there were several people in the house, and terror overtook me. What the hell was going on?

Out of instinct, I got up and rushed over to my wardrobe and climbed in, making sure to shut the doors behind me. Allowing the darkness to engulf my frame, I sat in a cramped ball, and listened. After picking out my father's booming voice, I tried to pick out another one I recognized; they all seemed to come from strangers, though. They were unrecognizable, and it scared me even more. I hugged my knees to my chest and whimpered. What could I do? What was actually going on? I froze in horror when I heard footsteps climbing the stairs...

"Twiggy?" Marilyn's voice called as the footsteps moved along the hallway, accompanied by the sound of doors being shoved open.

Wait.. what?

"M-Marilyn?" I cried out.

"Twiggs?!" He gasped, and the door to my room banged open. "Where are you?"

I shoved open my wardrobe door using my foot and looked up. Relief washed over me so hard, that for a moment I was strangled by it. There stood Marilyn, here to rescue me.

"Twiggy! Oh my God!" He blurted, running over.

He pulled me from the wardrobe and kept me in his arms bridal style. I clung to him willingly, burrowing my face into his neck and breathing deeply. The feeling of safety that washed over me was so powerful, I felt strangled once again.

"Are you OK?" He asked in a rush.

"Y-yeah.." I mumbled.

"Good. Come on, let's get you out."

"..Please do.."

Marilyn held me tighter and kissed the top of my head.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore." He told me.

"..But.. I.. downstairs.. the shouting.. the noise.."

There was a pause as he thought things over, before he chuckled.

"Let's just say Jax received a few favours."

"Jax?"

She was here too?

"Yeah. She's your friend too, Twiggs." Marilyn said, and began walking. "And we really do need to get you out."

Gratitude flooded through me as I thought of how kind Jax was. Well, they were all incredibly kind to me. They were going out of their way, stopping at nothing, and never giving up trying to help me. It was difficult to comprehend, but I was grateful nonetheless.

Marilyn carried me out of the door and along the hallway before heading down the stairs. I then saw what had caused the commotion. Everywhere, teenagers grouped around, throwing things on the floor, ripping doors off of their hinges, smashing windows and stamping on chairs till they snapped. They also had my father backed into a wall, fighting him. However, my father was strong and was fighting back, definitely not going down easily.