Mötley Crüe's the Dirt

Mötley Crüe: Nikki Sixx : Chapter 1

(The 1980s.
The worst fucking decade in human history. Preppies and keyboards, stupid haircuts, Jazzercise, and "Just Say No." It all fucking sucked!
So, what do you do when you're born in the wrong time?
You make it yours.)

(That's Tommy, our drummer. He makes a lot of bad choices.

Vince. He's the singer. The pretty boy if you will.

Mick. The guitarist. We think he's an alien.

That's me. Nikki. I'm the bassist.

We weren't a band. We were a gang.)

{ A gang of fucking idiots.}

(I guess if I'm gonna tell this story right, we should start with my happy childhood. So let's go back to before I was Nikki Sixx.)

Washington State, a boy is brushing his teeth.
(Back to Frank Carlton Feranna Jr. That's me. My dad named me that after himself, right before he split. Which just left me with these three things.

"Up and down! I told you to brush up and down. Piece of shit!" A man walked in to the bathroom.

(A revolving door of asshole stepfathers.)

A lady walked in giving a disgusted look to the boy.

( a bitch of a mother)

The boy has grown to a teen now. He danced around with a Goldtop LesPual, while music came from a record player.

( and music)

His mother walked in.
"Turn it fucking down, Frankie." She ordered. Frankie didn't listen. So, his mother turned off the record player.
"What's that?" She asked her son.
"What's it look like?" He retorted.
"Where'd you get it?" She continued.
"He probably stole it." A man said from behind the boy's mother.

( I did. Some guy asked me if I could play bass I. His band. Found out the hard way that guitars and basses are different.)

"Who the fuck is this guy?" Frankie asked.
"You think I don't know where you got all this shit?!" She told the boy.
"So you noticed something I did, for once!" Frankie yelled.
"Don't you talk to your mother like that, you little prick." The man barked at Frankie.
"Seriously? Who the fuck are you? Y'know what? I don't even care." Frankie was done with his mother's shit. "Gonna be another you tomorrow, anyways." The boy informed the man.
"You wanna know who this is?He's another man in my life that you're gonna drive away... just like you did your fucking father!" His mother yelled.
"I was two years old, you bitch!" Frankie was fuming. "He left you!" He yelled. His mother walked up to him. She pushed back his messy hair and got in his face.
"Then how come he never tried to call you then, Frankie?" She asked.
"Fuck you!" Frankie yelled. "Get the fuck outta here!" Frankie pushed the two out of his room.
"Open the fucking door, Frankie!" His mother yelled. He slammed the door.
"Open that fucking door! God damn it!" She yelled. Frankie turned up the music in his room to drown out his mother.
"You little shit! Open the fucking door!" Frankie pulled the mattress off the bed frame. There layed a switchblade. He picked it and walked to the door.
"Open the fucking..." she Aw her son with the switchblade as he opened the door. "No! No, baby! No! No! What are you doing, baby?!" She watched as her son cut his own arm.

(And that's when I had my mom arrested. Maybe I wanted her to care, but fuck it! Though I didn't press charges. I left. I ran away. From Washington to the streets of Hollywood. I was broke and starving,
and I had no one to trust, so I made the mistake
that many unwanted children make. I went chasing ghosts.)

Frankie, older now, stood next to a pay phone. He picked up the phone to call his father.
"Hello?" He heard over the other end of the line.
"Is this Frank Feranna?" Frankie asked.
"Who's this?" The man asked Frankie. The boy took a deep breath.
"Oh, hi, Mr. Feranna. This is your son...Frank Jr." he informed the man.
"Son?" was asked over the phone. "What are you talking about?" His father continued.
"No, my..." Frankie was cut off by the man.
"I don't know who you are." The man stated. Frankie got scared.
"No, my mother, she's Deana..." he got cut off again.
"Don't call here again." His father ordered.

(That was the last time I spoke to my father. And the last time I used his name.)

Frankie walks into an office. He had files in his hands. There he waited his turn to the window in the room. It was his turn. He placed the papers on the counter. He was going to change his name. The lady looked them over.
"Nikki Sixx?" She asked. He just nodded. The lady approved the documents. He was no longer Frank jr. he was Nikki Sixx.

It was hard for Nikki to find a job and a place to live. Through a newspaper, he found a vacant apartment. It was affordable and looked nice from the picture. So he looked at it and bought it.

One day when he walked home from work. He walked up his apartment front steps, when somebody bumped into him from behind.
"Shit." It was a woman's voice. " Oh my god, I am so sorry." She told Nikki. He turned around. She was a really pretty girl. She had her blonde hair tied in a ponytail and she had stormy grey eyes.
"No problem. Looks like you were very interested in what you were listening to." Nikki said, pointing to the Walkman.
"Uh yeah. You must be the new tenant? I'm I right?" She asked. He nodded.
"Well I'm your neighbor Alice." The girl now known as Alice said.
"I'm Nikki." She smiled.
"Well I'll see you around Nikki and if you need anything just ask." She said before she left into her side of the double house.
"Bye." Nikki said quietly. He soon went to his side of the house.