Virulent (Folie a Deux 1)
He stares at me for a moment before nodding. “Let’s go.” He tugs me along behind him down the street. I skip along behind him, ignoring the weird people staring at me like I’m crazy. I’m not. I’m fine. I’m Daddy’s Sweet Molls.
Dropping my head back, I focus on the glinting stars that look down on me. They’re dancing against the blackness, waving and smiling at us. They know our love is pure. It’s true. Not sick. We’re perfect. I feel light, like a bird. I’m free.
“Molls,” Pike’s voice pulls me back to the present. Back to him. “Let’s go. We’re going to play now.”
I giggle when Pike leans in and grabs my legs. He throws me over his shoulder, causing me to squeal. The heavy thumps of his footsteps are the only sound beside the music in my head. It’s so colorful. When he finally sets me down, I turn to see the looming ornate metal before me. Gates. An entrance to a graveyard, but not any graveyard. This is where my parents are lying dead in the ground.
“It’s so quiet. It’s so dark. I’m going to do bad things in the park. They’re lying in wait, not breathing, not dreaming. I’m here to show them, how special I am. I’ll fuck my daddy on their grave without giving a damn.”
Bouncing on the balls of my feet as excitement skitters through me, I turn to see Pike smoking his cigarette, watching me from the wall. The red glow of the cherry is the only light glinting at me.
“Come on, Daddy,” I giggle, shoving open the heavy metal gate before I make my way into the empty graveyard. The large sliver of the moon hangs in the inky sky as we stroll side by side deeper into the darkness. The tombstones look like monsters fighting their way out of the ground, wanting to live once more.
The speed we hit earlier is starting to affect me more as we find ourselves at the two concrete stones that have my mother and father’s names on them. It’s strange how rich people live; all their possessions no longer matter once they die. All my life I was shoved into doctors’ rooms, told to swallow pills, just to ensure I behaved when we had those fancy parties. My folks wanted to seem like the perfect family; mommy and daddy with their perfect little girl.
But no amount of money could fix the sickness in my father’s mind. He hated the word Daddy, he hated me for wanting hugs, but as soon as he’d finished his bottle of whiskey, he’d sneak into my room and show me how much he loved me.
“Sweet Molls,” Pike’s voice drags me from the dark memory. “Remember, they’re dead now. There’s nobody here who can hurt you.” His voice is calming as he convinces me that I’m safe. When Pike is around, I’m always safe.
Patrick and Molly-Anne, the two kids who ran away from the overpriced houses, fancy cars, and all the bullshit that came with being rich. We wanted more than that. More than what money could buy. We wanted love. And we found it with each other.
Even though I’ve found happiness, Pike’s given me something more. He’s fixed my broken parts. Each time we go out, he watches over me as my darkness is brought to light. The darkness that resides within me is something that I no longer fight. Pike allows me to play when I need it, when I need to let everything out.
We stare for a long while at the two graves where my parents are lying, decayed and rotten. Being nothing more than food for the insects that live beneath the soil.
“Sit.” Pike’s voice startles me. “We’re going to sit here, drink, and celebrate your life,” he smirks, pulling out the silver flask that was hidden in the pocket of his leather jacket.
We settle on the grass, my back against my mother’s tombstone, and Pike is settled against my father’s grave. He hands me the flask, which I take happily and gulp down a sharp, burning shot of whiskey.
I hand the object back to him, only to find his fingers pointing at me. Between the index and middle digits is a small square that I happily stick out my tongue for. Once he places it in my mouth, I smile, swallowing the drugs into my system.
“This is good. The best birthday ever,” I tell him honestly. The sky turns into rainbows, swirling together like a mosaic of color. Pike reaches for me, his hand on my thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Mmhmm,” I can’t help moaning from his touch. The sweetness of his fingers on my skin makes me tingle.
The high. The desire. The need.
It all comes crashing down around me and I open my legs for him. He picks up Gigi from the ground where I’ve set her beside me, and I turn to watch as he pushes the handle into his mouth. He sucks it until it’s wet with his spit, then shoves my panties aside.