Needy and company created by Diablo Cody, who, by the way, is a genius—a freaky genius! The rest of this story is mine, and I am thankful that she lets us play around with her creations. Everything is fictitious.

Rated: M [R] for violence, adult situations, foul language, drug use, and mature themes.

Dead Lovers and Other Sweet Things

by Diablo Priest

Preface: I love Jennifer and Needy, but sometimes they take me to dark places—actually, I don't need anyone to take me there, but it's nice to be in such beautiful company. Sensitive souls be warned: this is one of those dark places. It was inspired by my hero Osamu Dazai.

Those who suffer shall suffer. Those who fall shall fall. —Osamu Dazai, "One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji."

[Needy is released after spending four years in the mental institution for killing Jennifer. She tries to rebuild her life and enrolls in university.]

pt.1 §§§

The Lord Byron Society was the poetical club on campus. It met every Thursday evening while classes were in session and published a journal every semester. Needy thought this would be an ideal activity for her. Before the first meeting, she stopped at the college bookstore for some of her text books, but the crowd was larger than she expected. After waiting in line to pay, she rushed across the quad already late. Warriner Hall was a large neoclassical building with many columns, constructed in the late nineteenth century. It resembled a Greek temple. The meeting was in a small lecture amphitheater, room 1788.

No longer did Needy have the long flowing locks of silky blonde hair that she had when she was seventeen. Her hair was cut short in a prissy style that was the antithesis of youth and femininity. She looked twenty-seven rather than her twenty-one years, but the energy, bustle, and excitement of the first days of a new school year filled her with enthusiasm and confidence. She was ready to play the bright little preppie in her new green sweat shirt with the big white "T" logo—for Teasdale University—across her chest and with her backpack slung over her shoulder. Her élan dissolved, however, before she even entered the room.

Needy froze in the doorway. Every LBS meeting began with poetry readings, and a Goth girl was at the podium reading some free verse:

I scream

I scream

Death

Darkness surrounds me

Death

Liberation

Death

Darkness frees me

Hopeless

Hopeless

Hopeless.

The girl would have been a breathing cliché, except she expressed genuine emotion in her enunciation and authentic energy in her gestures. Needy was mesmerized by the her. She looked like Jennifer: her childhood friend, her adolescent lover, her personal demon. Of course she was dressed nothing like Jennifer; the Goth girl's clothes weren't colorful, tight, or seductive in any way; they were black, loose, and enveloping. She had a small silver ring in her right nostril, and a labret or stud just below the middle of her lower lip; and she also had a metal choker or collar that Jennifer would never have even looked at—a chain of skulls and crossbones. However, she did have Jennifer's long black hair and piercing blue eyes, although her hair was heavily moussed. The resemblance went beyond the color of her hair and eyes. Her nose, lips, and jaw suggested the dead Devil's Kettle beauty as well.

The girl glared back at Needy, as polite applause rippled through the room in response to her poem. As the applause died away, Needy was still frozen in place; and the Goth girl continued to stare. The entire assemblage then turned and looked at Needy. No one moved.

Finally an older man stood up.

"Welcome newcomer," he said, advancing with his hand extended. "I'm John—Dr. Hunter—I'm faculty advisor for the LBS. Good evening."

"I'm Anita," Needy said, as if in a dream.

"Come in, come in!" Dr. Hunter said. "Xaviera won't bite you, will you Xaviera?"

The Goth girl was still at the podium, gazing intently at Needy. "I might," she said.

Dr. Hunter smiled nervously. "Xaviera is one of our avant-garde poets."

Needy entered the room and sat down. There were more readings, once Xaviera surrendered the podium. The readings were followed by refreshments and socializing. Needy kept staring at the Goth girl. Finally, she came over.

"Would you like me to bite you?"

"Uh?"

"You keep staring at me."

"Oh."

"I thought you might be trying to pick me up."

"Uh?"

The Goth girl leaned in closer and whispered emphatically, "Have sex with me. I thought you might be trying to have sex with me."

Needy blushed. It was amazing that after all she had been through, she could still blush. Red. Like a revolutionary's zeal.

The Goth girl smiled seductively. "I would tear you apart, babe."

"Oh."

"You don't like it rough?"

"I—uh—I—"

"We could get to know one another first," Xaviera said. "You could tie me up."

"You come on strong," Needy said finally, gaining her mental equilibrium.

"You were the one staring at me, babe."

"You look like someone I used to know."

"Someone dead, I bet."

"Yeah," Needy said, befuddled again. How did she know, Needy thought.

"Someone young and beautiful."

"Yeah."

"I could be your dead lover," Xaviera said, "and other sweet things."

"That could be dangerous," Needy said with a quiver in her voice.

"Exactly what you're looking for."

Needy was silent.

"I'm going to Demon's," Xaviera said. "Come with me."

Needy looked apprehensive.

"It's a club. C'mon."

"All right."