Starry I think not (terrorcest)

Diaries

Tommy Lee

"Someone get him out of here." I hear someone say.

I can only assume they're talking about me because I'm sitting on the dirty hospital floor sobbing into my hands. I can't stop the flow of tears. They just keep coming without end.

"Fuck Nikki I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you at times. I-I'll miss you man..." I hear Vinces voice crack from somewhere above me.

This only causes me to cry harder, tears running uncomfortably down my arms. I don't know how I'm going to live without him. He brightened my whole world. Why did he have to go?

"Tommy we should probably go, they're going to take him to the morgue..." Mick says, nudging me with his foot.

"O-okay." I stutter, standing up and wiping snot and tears from my face.

Mick is in tears as well. We all are. We thought it was impossible for something bad to happen to us. We never thought it would lead to us having to say goodbye to anyone. I probably should've known better.

"Hey Lee you can stay with me tonight." Mick offers, wrapping me into another hug.

"O-okay....I don't- I don't think...Think I could go home..."I sob, tears dripping from my face as I pull away.

"It's okay." Mick says quietly, leading me to his car.

The air hits my body like a slap to the face. Right now all I want to do is crawl into a hole and cry until I have no tears. I don't even remember getting into Micks car.

"Tommy?" Mick asks, looking over at me.

"W-what?" I ask, wiping my nose.

"A nurse handed me this. Said he had it on him in the deep pocket of his jacket."

My breath hitches. A small journal, front cover littered in scribbles. Before I can say anything, Mick hands the journal to me. This is Nikki's diary. He never allowed me or anybody else to touch it. I once tried to open it and he threatened to impale me with a broom stick.

I'm even going to miss him threatening people. It's weird how I'm going to miss everything so much.

I'm gonna miss the way he would accidentally wake me up in the morning while playing bass. I'm gonna miss the way his eyes sparkled in the California sun. I'm gonna miss the way his spiky hair stood up on end when he woke up.

I'm going to miss him subconsciously pulling me closer during a nightmare and I'm going to miss the way he looked at me like I was the only person whose opinion he cared about. I'm going to miss the way we terrorized people, but mostly, I'm going to miss him.

Mick helps me out of the car and inside his house. I'm grateful he let me stay here. I don't want to go home.

I walk upstairs and throw myself onto a guest bed. An overwhelmingly depressive mass seems to sit on my chest, squashing air and happiness.

I don't know if I should read Nikkis journal. It almost feels too private. At the same time, I want to know what the hell he was thinking. The curiosity outweighs my morals, as usual.

I flip open the diary and find a small note wedged between the first page and the cover.

If you are reading this, it's for one of three reasons.

1, I died. And I probably died of an overdose too

2, you're a nosy little motherfucker who can't keep their paws to themselves.

3, I got clean and decided to share these painful inner thoughts with people. (This one is unlikely)

Anyways, read on at your own fucking risk. And don't say I didn't warn you. This book is basically my suicide note.

I re-fold the note and turn to the last pages with writing.

December 22nd, 1987

I'm closer to the precipice of death every day. My body is inching towards the finish line as it's eating itself from the inside out and begging for my mind to take mercy on it. My only comfort and my only solace is a needle.

I told myself it was self-medication. I told myself that I could stop anytime I wanted. I don't know where it all went wrong.

Every time I turn around I need more heroin. I can't control the cravings anymore. I've given in to the monster. Some part of me wants to get clean, but the majority of me just wants to get so high I forget everything.

I'm forever chasing the high that I so desperately crave in order to get through the day. I'm hurting everybody around me. I don't care if I die as long as I can get high it seems.

The one person I seem to hurt most of all is Tommy. I hate to think that I could be hurting him. After all he is the love of my life. He's asked me to slow down, but honestly I don't plan on it.

I have to put the journal down, tears streaming down my face. I never knew he was struggling like this. I wish he would have told me. Maybe if I had known I could've helped him.

"Tommy..."

There's a whisper from the opposite side of the room. I look up but I don't see anyone. That was strange. Maybe Mick is talking about me on the phone to somebody. I can only assume that the entire world knows what happened by now

I look back down at the diary, fully intending to just go back to the opened page. But the book is closed now. I don't remember closing it. A shiver washes over me.

Tonight will be the first night I won't be sleeping with Nikki in 3 months. The now familiar depressive feeling is weighing on me again. I can feel something else, I'm not sure what it is.