Light Me Up

a chapter of Living Lost

by The Pop Tart Spirits

Some people were rightly disturbed and disappointed with the last segment, so here's another. It's rather disturbing in and of itself.

Let me reiterate: these little snippets of story are in no way related to one another. They're just a shitload of one-shots that all revolve around the pain, death and destruction of one lovely blonde punk.

As always... gomenasaimasu, Katsuya.


As one of my heavy-lidded eyes cracked open to take in the unwelcome sun, I remembered last night.

I remembered the boys and girls, all hopped up on whatever shit they could find, fucking each other with the single-mindedness that comes with too many drugs. I remembered exactly how much I smoked (three bowls, two passed blunts and a few goes at the four-foot water bong Tsuya keeps in his closet); I remembered every person I fucked/got fucked by (four females and six males, all in one night - Katsuya, you stud).

It'd gotten to the point where I no longer woke up sober. Welcome to my summers.

Fuck a summer job. You'd think that an enterprising young man such as myself might want to make a little dough, especially since the water in the apartment I shared with my old man was off more days than it was on. Also considering the fact that said old man couldn't hold a job for longer than a week. But the drugs were free if you knew the right people, knew being a word of several definitions in this context, and the sex wasn't half bad. Plus, it was a lifestyle that meant more often than not I slept in a comfortable bed with a hot shower awaiting me the next morning.

No, not in such a hurry to be responsible.

It's amazing, when you think about it, how disease-free I am. I haven't gotten sick since grade school and I get myself checked regularly for the goo and shit like that; nothin'. We got all sortsa people coming in and out of our lives like this, what with the water bongs and the sex and blunt circles and the community booze. I coulda gotten mono five times over last summer alone.

But I digress.

I couldn't help but wonder if anyone else remembered. As I slowly sat up, I discovered that I was in a king-sized bed with Tsuya, a girl I didn't recognize, and Kiyoko, a beauty whose connections had been the life of the party. And she'd chosen me.

Bisexuality is a lovely thing.

Slowly I untangled myself and stumbled out of the room, stopping to stretch before trying find the kitchen under empty pizza boxes, bottles, and people who'd passed out where they stood. I recognized Hayate, a tall and somber bassist whose tolerance was a thing to envy, and had to laugh. He'd passed the fuck out while cleaning the bong, apparently. Gently I set the glass piece on the counter, and eased him to the floor.

You might think that washing one's face in the kitchen sink is a bit gauche, but considering what I loathed to find in the bathroom...

We'll leave it at that, na?

I gave the rest of the kitchen a cursory glance and then ducked my head to look under the floating cabinets to the living room beyond. Jackpot! Half a pizza, still untouched. Hello, breakfast.

I has halfway there when I smelled something burning. I picked up a pizza slice and turned back towards the kitchen just in time to see the bathroom door explode outwards. It slammed against the hallway wall and dropped, charred black. A small shock wave from the blast blew heat into my face and ruffled my hair back. The smell of weed, chemicals and crisped flesh reached my nostrils and the pizza came back up.

"What... the fuck?" Hayate, one of several woken by the explosion, staggered out of the kitchen and reeled back from the heat. I was still standing frozen in place, and belatedly I thought to grab the fire extinguisher. I raced towards the bathroom, gagging at the smell, and started spraying. A few half-hearted gusts of yellowed foam burst out, only seeming to feed the flames before it stopped completely. I threw it from me in disgust.

"Get some water!" Someone screamed, and someone else grabbed a bucket. By then the fire had spread along the walls, catching the carpet and sending waves of noxious fumes throughout the entire apartment. The water was too little, too late. They were still organizing a chain-gang of water buckets when the kitchen stove caught fire.

Someone had left the gas on.

This is what you get when you have a drugged-out orgy in an apartment that's never been up to code. The clothing of five people caught in places; they screamed and bumped into one another in their haste to drop and roll. I shook my head and decided to get the fuck out of there, and raced to the door - only to find it unlocked but unopenable. I wrenched at it, yelling, saying unmentionable and unintelligible things as I nearly tore my arm off trying to get the fucking door open. A few of the more sobered men tried to help me, but for whatever reason the goddamn thing wouldn't budge.

The kitchen was an inferno, now, and the way to all the rest of the apartment was blocked by smoke, flame and burning bodies. The few of us that were left crouched below the poison smoke in the living room, and Hayate and I grabbed the coffee table and shoved it through the window. Smoke billowed out, seeking escape, and we crowded to the jagged opening. It was then that we were reminded that the apartment was five floors up.

Somebody, Tsuya I think, let out a groan.

The fire pressed closer and closer behind us. We could hear the fire trucks in the distance but, being jaded as we are, we all knew they'd be too late. An ash-smeared girl who turned out to be Kiyoko, pulled up her skirt and unzipped my jeans as she handed me six roaches. Might as well go down fucking, I think she said as I tried to read her lips above the roar of the flames. I stuck four of the blunts into my mouth and lit them on the wall; she took the last two. They were gone in three hits. She rode me into oblivion, not even screaming as we burned.

I don't know which was sweeter - the kiss of release or the kiss of death.


R&R.