Use Me

By Mileena

An: uhm. OOC Nazis back off. My story. Hmmm. I don't believe in ratings, but you rating Nazis. This may escalate from R TO HIGHER so you little *oh that's so not Johnny* nazis blow me. Uhhh. I don't own anything in here except Mazzy and Iries and this plot. The chair I own on I don't even own, It's my granma's who I have lovingly nicknamed Grandma Hatey for her mean-ness The only thing I own that's on/with me right now is my jewelry and clothes. See. Don't sue you mean evil nazis.

AN2: This was written because its something similar along the lines of what just happened to me...only soo very much has been changed *stabs herself* Wow. I used a lot of "Nazi' in my speech. Oh and I think this may be my first chaptered Johnny fic. Go Me!

--Mileena

This whole fucking story is dedicated to Joe and Raziel. You may be gone now, but thanks for being there and letting me have fun. And when I needed you the most.

Chapter 1- Too Fucked to care

I had run a long way. Did I run? Who Cares? All I know now is. I'm Home. The only place I should never ever leave. People can't hurt me here. My voices may taunt me, but they cannot hurt me. I can only hurt myself. And even though the desire to is strong, I'd only regret it in the end, it'd be a waste of time. I don't belong dead. I don't belong alive either.... Its like someone tattooed on the back of my head "USE ME" Paranoid, I run into the bathroom and check what's left of the mirror. No.theres no such sign on my skin. Since my holiday, my hair is growing somewhat normally, no longer do I have just the two antenna poking out of my head, but I have a head full of short spikes AND two antenna poking out. But I don't care enough to even it out. I don't want to care ever again.

I sit on the cold tile floor. I should have never even bothered. I'm too tired from the running and emotional bullshit that I can no longer produce any tears. I can no longer produce any screams of hate. But I can remember it all as if I just met her yesterday.

Yesterday was Five years ago.

It was quite peculiar to see little Squee in the mental institution. He was a good little boy, and the fact that he was there was beyond me. I said hello, and he said his normal 'Squee' I had spent some few months in that asylum. It was a time for me to start thinking about whom I was and what I needed to do. No one ever bothered you unless you needed something. Well, come to think of it, maybe it was the lying bears fault little Squee was in there. But I had left, but I didn't return home. I was not ready to face that, and I questioned if I ever should return. I know now, that I shouldn't of ever left. Even little Todd Casil would have benefited from me staying home.

It was five years ago that I met this girl, and she was the most emotional distressed looking thing. Skinny and pathetic She looked twelve for fucks sake. I told her she was ugly, and she needed to get out of my face before I hacked it up. I had no time to be messing around with strange little girls. It wasn't me at all to say those rude things to her. It wasn't ten minutes later that I stumbled upon a girl who was stalking me as I exited the restaurant that the Emo girl was in. Now she, she was fucking gorgeous. She was as tall as me, and I knew she had to weigh more than me, but not by much. Her hair was a fire red, and her eyes were a deep gray. I fell in love with those eyes; I fell in love with her appearance. I was doing the very thing I hate. I felt like a fucking jock, basing my opinions on a girl with physical beauty. She appeared Asian, but with hair like that, you would have never known where the fuck she was from.

Her name was Mazzy Levy, and she had just escaped a world of torment. When she was fifteen, the love of her life had died, and a year later, her parents made her see a shrink because they had no recollection of this boyfriend. She was diagnosed with some sort of sexual fantasy thing...and it was quite unhealthy. She had a bad temperament, and was violent. Her parents admitted her to an asylum until she was finally released when she was eighteen. She had spent only a few years of her life in there, but she had missed everything. She didn't get to graduate school even, something her parents expected she wouldn't be able to do. And they were right. When the cabbie took her home. She walked in, and an old man beat her to an inch of her life thinking she was a crook. He pressed his boot into her neck, and now a crescent scar was shaped dead center of the skin. Mazzy's parents had moved without telling the asylum, and now she was all-alone. She was twenty-one when I met her, I wasn't that much younger than her, only by a year.

We talked as we walked around this city; I guess the place I was in now was only a few hours drive from my home. I only remember driving my little gray car to the asylum, and out, and when it ran out of gas I walked the rest of the direction I was going. She was an intelligent person, drug and alcohol free, and was currently working on articles in some magazine. I didn't say that much that night. But I know I had fallen in love with her at first sight.

I was acting like everything I hated.

(Yay)

Onto Chapter two you pony