Rock N'Roll Chick

The good, the bad and the ugly.

Bret's family was staying with us. It was like a Brady Bunch Reunion. But, it was great.

Thankfully, I was able to start writing again. Kriss,Tony and Danny came over and we spent hours writing,playing and getting our album ready. Being sober my writing was different,better,clearer. I was digging deep into my past and letting it out. It was freeing.

Word got out and the press knew Mental Disorder was back in the studio. The pressure was on. The label wanted an album. Like 5 minutes ago and there was a slight drop in fan base. Not good.

One night I came home after a grueling day in the studio. We were having trouble laying down a track for a particular song and I wanted it to be perfect. I'm a Nazi or so I'm told. Times like this I want to use so badly. All it takes is one call: Nikki. He would be there in a flash and give me whatever I wanted.

He and I ended oddly. He claimed I am the one he truly loves "the one that got away." How freaking cliche. He wants me back no matter the amount of women he goes through. Thanks but there isn't enough penicillin in the world for me to jump on that grenade. But, he still has a slight hold on me. Slight.

Anyway, I walked in tired, desperate for a fix and on the verge of homicide when Jo, Bret and Deborah are all in the sitting area waiting for me. Something is up. Oh shit. Whaaaat???

"Please sit honey, we have to talk." Bret took my hand and sat me down,never leaving me or releasing my grip.
Fear rippled through me. I lit a cigarette. Not caring who or what it bothered.

Jo cleared her throat. "Um, it's about your brother. " I literally froze. She continued. "He's out. He's been cleared. He didnt....uh....um....kill your mom." I sat rooted to my seat. Confused. Not really getting it. I lit another cigarette.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I was feeling angry. And, wanted to vomit and pop a pill. Now.

Jo cleared her throat again. Ok. The throat clearing is clearly not a good sign.
"There's more." Naturally. "He's sober. Living in L.A. wants to see you. "
I laughed a hysterical laughter. Creepy but fitting. God give me a pill or a drink. But......
Deborah spoke up. No throat clearing. Good sign. But, she grabbed my hand and Bret pulled me closer.
"Honey, they found the real killer. It was your father. He killed her to be with that woman Julia. I'm sorry but he was murdered in prison."

Crickets. Dead silence. I couldn't speak. Yet, I wasn't completely surprised. Somehow I just knew. The son of a bitch. Burn in hell.
"Oh, ok. Um. I....."
Bret pulled me in. "Take your time baby. Don't say anything. Let it sink in. We're right here."

They all nodded in sympathy. It made me angry. Perhaps it was the shock,or the anger or the exhaustion. But, I had news to share. Not the best time, but nobody ever said I was perfect.

I cleared my throat. Why do we do that giving news???
"Well, I guess this is as good a time as any." I said. I looked into Bret's eyes intently. "Congratulations, you're going to be a father. I'm pregnant. "

Crickets...again. then Bret let out a whoop of joy.  He hugged me tightly crying. Jo, Deborah all hugged me crying happy congratulating us.

I was silent. No one noticed. Thank God. I knew what I was going to do.
"Ok. I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back. ". I ran upstairs with happy shouts following me.

No way am I keeping this baby. No. I grabbed my phone. I knew who and what I needed. He answered on the first ring. "Hello."
"Nikki, it's Torr. I need you."