Female horror movie villains

They are the products of the male-dominated horror film industry

Most of these female villains are sluts.

Maniacal killers dressed in sexy lingerie because men find that so very appealing

Or if the villain isn't a slut, she's a crazy old lady

It disgusts me

The lack of sex appeal is made up for with the use of fear

That I understand

What I don't understand, is why the crazy old lady never comes up on top

She's always beat down and defeated by a group of men.

Even those slutty, fucking beautiful female villains are always defeated, with the exception of Jennifer from Jennifer's Body

I understand and appreciate sex appeal, but I don't encourage using it to set stereotypes

I know that stereotypes have already been set for female horror movie villains

But these stereotypes must not be supported and encouraged.

It is time, I tell the world the two things I am most afraid of

The first, I am afraid of ever killing something, or someone.

And the second, I am afraid of being the only one left on Earth.

If you laugh and say I'm a dimwit for these things will never happen then you are sorely mistaken

I was just eating a mango and watching the film Daylight on television

And the way I eat mangoes is, I have a knife on the plate and I cut off pieces of it

I eat the skin as well you see

And I kept wondering how it would feel like to kill someone or something with that knife

Plunge it into living breathing flesh, you are aware of all the details I don't need to state them here

Not flesh of mango, flesh of living thing

It became so bad I turned off the television and brought the plate to my room, away from Nuggets should I suddenly do something very serious

I stabbed the fruit a few times, hoping it would help

Then I cut the rest of the fruit and brought the knife out to be washed and placed with the rest of the silverware

Then I abandoned the mango and cried for a while

After which I lit a candle and came online, needing some human communication in my life.

So you see, my mind is very disturbed

The images of murder and homicide in my mind truly never go away

My fascination with death, I quite like it except for one thing

What I don't like about it, and what I am afraid of, is losing control, and actually making those images come true

In which case, I sometimes have to be by myself

I be by myself so I won't cause any harm to myself with my thoughts about hurting others

The second thing is just something I've come to fear

Normally when someone has experienced something far too much, he or she becomes used to it

But I have felt lonely so much, that I fear loneliness

This is something I find very hard to understand and I don't blame you if you cannot understand it as well

My intelligence makes me feel very stupid sometimes.

I fear those two things very much.

But if you do care about me I urge you not to worry

I've grown up with those fears and I have them packed away in a little box that I've placed under my bed

They are my little boogeymen that never come out and leave me alone most of the time.

If they do come out, I will graciously put myself in an institution, and swallow the key.

Currently in question is this little boy.



I say Little Boy because that is what he is
Greyson Chance is 12 years old and that means that he is still a child
Young, and highly impressionable
Ellen has made plenty of decisions in her life, both wise and unwise ones
Giving little Greyson a record deal is, I'm sorry, one of her unwise decisions

I have nothing against children getting the recognition they deserve for being extremely talented
But, a record deal? An actual job in the music industry?
Greyson Chance might want it but that does not mean that he is ready for a record deal.
I edit myself, he is talented enough but he is certainly not ready in his mindset.

In fact, him being talented is the reason why I think giving him a record deal now is unwise
I would hate to see such passion and drive being wasted when he gets influenced by the music industry which has proven itself to be more evil than I am.
If this Greyson wants a career in music that much, he can certainly wait a while longer for one.

I'm not going to keep something like from the place where i have published all or most of my thoughts and emotions for the past two years
I met the band I have loved since the moment I laid eyes on them
Yet I met Tokio Hotel

It wasn't even official, they were making an appearance at the Audi Fashion opening show
I only knew they had come to singapore on Sunday night
On tuesday I was in a complete state of panic because everyone on twitter were going on about how they were performing at ngee an city
And I was considering going there at 8 pm on a school night

But I didn't.
I waited till the next day, after school.
And Jie'r dearest accompanied me which was very nice of her even though she had to leave before they actually arrived.
But when they did arrive, it was so fast
I only remember Bill giving me his autograph and Gustav walking, I never got to see the front of Tom or even glance at Georg before they were led away into the tent

I met this extremely nice girl Elicia and spent the time there with her and her mother
We went to that huge screen with all the Tokio Hotel fans but there wasn't anything much
So we just walked around, waited, spoke to a male model.
The models were highly good looking and I saw Lily Cole.
She's beautiful.

We took pictures with Dean and Dan from Dsquared2
They were the fashion designers who were showcasing
Well I was taking a picture with Dean or Dan but then the other twin also decide to join.
That was very nice of him to.
But anyway, the management of the Audi Fashion Festival were kind enough to let the tokio hotel fans into the tent to watch them perform.

We watched them perform the acoustic versions of Automatic and Phantomrider
Bill waved to me, I swear he did.
His voice was beautiful and the guitar was amazing and, it was just the perfect performance
I've seen to many performance videos of them but none of them prepared me for watching them live
I just, cannot forget it.

Elicia and me were smart
We rushed out and went to the back door of the tent while the rest of the Tokio HOtel fans waited at the front
Thank god we didn't go with them, or we would have never, I shudder to think about it.
We did meet some intensely bitchy ah lians but who cares, i got back at them and i'll tell you how.

Tokio Hotel came out of the back door accompanied by security
And I was like "BillBillBill!!!" in my high voice, like Afiqah told me I should and he looked at me, smiled, and walked to me first
He walked up to me, first
The man i've been watching on videos and television for so long didn't walk up to the ah lians first, he walked up to me first

I still remember him walking up to me and those few seconds made my day
Well, then he tried signing but he didn't click my pen, and I tried to help him click it, thus touching his hand, but he clicked it and signed another autograph for me
His skin is baby soft, really, and he is tall, and Tom has very long eyelashes
I have to say though, I don't like extremely straight hair, but I like Georg's
And Gustav, I love, and want, his glasses.

I got all four of their autographs, which was amazing
It was such a blur and I only remember the basics but I can still feel everything
I just don't know how to describe it, It was one of the best days ever
I didn't cry, I teared a little but I didn't cry
I feel as if something has been put into place, but I am suffering from Tokio Hotel withdrawal symptoms.
Well, when they come back, I'll be there.

The world is an incredibly, screwed place isn't it.
Probably more screwed than nuts and bolts on a coffin
But that is far from my point.
Even the most insensitive person is afraid of horror films
I will admit, so am I.

But I am more afraid of propaganda
Think of how disgusting it is
To have to watch nothing but civilians willingly giving up their individual identities at the request of a group of people who have committed many atrocities, that those same civilians choose to turn a blind eye to.
Would you praise and lay your life in front of someone on a silver platter if that people was taking lives all over the place?

I am not being an annoying orange and shining the limelight on a group of people guilty of this.
Cough, Nazis, cough, gag
Well, they weren't the only ones.
However, and I have no clue how I was able to immediately judge that film as propaganda
I do not think I am above that
That was but one film in a sea of thousands

But, if the Singaporean government even so much as dares to put out an episode of any one of their horrible horrible dramas that contains even the slightest bit of propaganda.
I will be very very disgusted, and I will immediately go out of this country by foot if I have to.

I take the train every day ever since my mother decided to part with our beloved car

The one with the spiderweb sticker on the side

She thought a car was too much trouble so she sold it, and I didn't even get to keep the spiderweb sticker

So I'm taking the train every day, almost

I guess I found out the only thing I'm afraid of getting run over by the train.

And I'm so afraid of it that it's becoming an obsession.

I want to know what happens if I were to fall onto the tracks right when the train is five feet away from me, and I couldn't get away fast enough.

There are plenty of things that could happen to me.

1. I could stand up and run like the wind to the other end until the train stops, and then get off. This is very unlikely because trains are fast, unlike me, and I won't be able to avoid it.

2. I could do what would be wise, which would be to scurry under the platform, where they is a small space you could escape and just get my ears blown off by the defeaning noise instead.

3. If i'm right in the middle and I have no time to get up, I could watch as the train comes closer, then slices me not very neatly in half as it slides forward on the metal thing in the middle that I will be lying down on, having fallen down.

4. If I'm on either sides of the track, on the rocks parts, I'd probably have the worst. I first be crushed, and almost dead. Then my bloody-half corpse would be dragged until the train stops. If someone realizes, the train might never move and I'd just die there. Or, if no one realizes and I haven't died, the train will start up agin and I'd be dragged until enough bits of me get torn off, and then I die.

5. If my day is really, extremely unlucky, I might die before even getting to the platform. Escalators are deathly things and if the step I'm standing on gives way and falls inward, I'd be plunged into a rotating mess of gears and it might just feel like I've been put in a blender. Cream of Nishan doesn't sound too appetizing, but the people that were lucky enough to be standing in front and behind on the escalator me would get a taste.

I did give this plenty of thought, more than I should have

Still, I will take the trains to school and if I do die, touch wood, then, well unlucky for me I suppose

Maybe I'll throw a camera onto the tracks in front of a train and see what happens

If I do, I'll tell you.

If I really do get run over a train and I die, I'll still come back and tell you in my deformed, crushed, mutated form.

I haven't posted since the 15th of February
I have done many things since the 15th of February.

I have, worked on my depression
Which has subsided slightly because I have escaped from Van Helsing
With not a stake wound in and out of sight.
I met plenty of new friends
And we've been haunting hallways at night rattling chains

I wrote a few new plays
Destroyed some.
I did a show with Buds, I did not forget
The show kept me very, very busy with rehearsals and all
And the rehearsals were not exactly easy as hell.
It ended late at night most of the time

Another thing that ended late at night was the I am Gifted programme
I cried so many times, I lost count
But it was inspiring shit.
I told mother I loved her in front of about two hundred people.
I'm not so terrible.

I really am not evil, I just kill people.
Especially since now apparently everyone loves Tokio Hotel
Bloody hell, i've been with them way before they were famous in the US
I know more about them than you will ever, end of novel.

I woke up and saw sunlight streaming in through open windows.

Then I got out of bed and closed the curtains because I didn't like it

That was my earliest childhood memory.

Just updated The Story of Marilyn Sparrow
Now it's only three scenes long.

Scene 1

The scene opens showing a bedroom. A girl, Marilyn Sparrow, dressed in black pajamas is sitting at her table, writing in a black book. It's her diary. She does not have crazy "Goth" makeup or hair, but it's apparent she's dark and gloomy, There is a simple bed, drawer, dresser, and a small window at the side but the walls stand out the most because they are covered with posters of many bands. Three posters stand out the most and are at the forefront. They are of Marilyn Manson. Her voice plays overhead as she writes.

Marilyn: Dear Diary. School was good as always, sometimes I wonder how someone like me can have that many friends but I do. But it could've been better. The teacher asked us what music we liked and I said "Marilyn Manson". Then my classmates started making fun of him and called him weird and all for a good five minutes. I know they don't mean it because they're my friends but I was hurt. I waited until class was over and then I ran to the bathroom and cried.

Marilyn stops writing and looks at the poster on the wall. She closes the book and walks to her bed. The lights dim as she lies down on her bed, facing the audience. Suddenly a spotlight shines on her and a deep storyteller's voice speaks overhead.

Storyteller: Marilyn Sparrow was a girl. She liked dark things. Dark clothes, and dark books, and dark shoes and dark animals, but the thing she liked that was the darkest of all, was Marilyn Manson.

Marilyn sits upright on the bed, shocked and confused at hearing the storyteller's voice. She turns around, looking for the source of the voice. The storyteller continues.

Storyteller: When her best friend Nicole was murdered, she listened to Marilyn Manson every day. His music took away her pain. She had her friends, and her family, but it was Marilyn Manson she looked up to the most. She only wished that Marilyn Manson knew.

Marilyn's shoulders slump at the sound of her best friend and she lied back down on the bed, turning the other way to sleep. The storyteller's voice fades and the lights black out completely. A ten second pause and they come back on again. The sounds of birds whistling can be heard. Marilyn wakes up, annoyed. She storms to the window and shuts the blinds on her window quickly. The sound of birds stop and the lights dim a little when she shuts the blinds. Her mother, Mrs. Sparrow comes in with her breakfast and the newspaper. She turns and sees Marilyn Manson's poster on the wall.

Mrs. Sparrow: He's a freak of nature, Marilyn.

Marilyn: So am I, and you remind me of that every morning.

Mrs. Sparrow shakes her head.

Mrs. Sparrow: Take those down before the exorcist comes tomorrow. I think we have ghosts in the kitchen.

Mrs. Sparrow shakes her head and walks out, leaving Marilyn in the room. Marilyn takes a bite of her toast. The storyteller's voice plays overhead again. She stops halfway through biting her toast and rolls her eyes when she hears the voice, unfolding her newspaper.

Storyteller: Marilyn's mother did not like Marilyn Manson. Marilyn unfolded her newspaper and read the news like she did every Saturday morning. What's this? Marilyn Manson is on the front page?

Marilyn scans the front page in shock, she throws it down on the floor and slides off her chair, on the floor beside it. The glass of milk she has for her breakfast spills on top of her head and she's crying really badly.

Storyteller: The headline was "Shock Rocker Kills Ex-wife's Boyfriend". Marilyn Manson has finally done the unthinkable, he's killed someone. Marilyn won't have it. Someone had killed her best friend and she knows how Dita must feel. How could Marilyn Manson do that?

Marilyn throws her glass at the side of her room and yells at the voice.

Marilyn: SHUT UP!

Marilyn stands up and rushes to the Marilyn Manson posters on the wall. She tears them off and throws them on the floor, falling beside them and ripping them up into pieces. She grabs all her Marilyn Manson CDs as well and breaks them, throwing the cases everywhere. She sits among the mess, crying. Mrs. Sparrow comes back in talking as she opens the door.

Mrs. Sparrow: What was all the noise, Marilyn?

Mrs. Sparrow stops short and looks at Marilyn, exclaiming.

Mrs. Sparrow: Marilyn, you didn't have to do that. If you didn't want to take them down you could have just told me.

Mrs. Sparrow crouches beside Marilyn and picks up the pieces. Marilyn continues crying and helps her. They both leave the stage through the door carrying the remains of Marilyn's Marilyn Manson collection. Marilyn comes back in a different pair of black pajamas, clean. She lies down on the . The storyteller's voice comes back on but Marilyn ignores him.

Storyteller: Marilyn would never listen to The Golden Age of Grotesque again. She wasn't a Disposable Teen anymore, or one of The Beautiful People, or a member of the The Nobodies. She didn't want to be in the mOBSCENE, or buy another pair of Heart-Shaped Glasses. Never will she have anymore Sweet Dreams because she thought, "Rock is Dead". Or at least, Marilyn Manson was to her.

The lights black out and turn back on. Marilyn is sleeping. Sylvia comes in is wearing different clothes. She walks towards Marilyn and shakes her gently.

Sylvia: Time to wake up. You have school today.

Marilyn gets up and rubs her eyes. She nods and picks up her towel, going out of her room. Sylvia goes out behind her. Marilyn comes back after a while, wearing her school uniform and picks up her backpack, leaving again. The lights dim and the scene ends.

Scene 2

The scene opens, its the family dining room. Marilyn Sparrow's mother and father are sitting facing one another with their sides facing the audience, and are talking seriously. While they are doing that Mrs. Sparrow is cutting roses for a vase on the dining table, and Mr. Axel is drinking coffee and reading the paper. The continue with what they do and don't realize anything as the storyteller's voice comes on as only Marilyn can hear the voice.

Storyteller: Marilyn's parents hated Marilyn Manson, and thought he was a disgrace to music, not that they even knew much about music. Marilyn's father listened to old records and Marilyn's mother couldn't care less about sounds.

The storyteller's voice stops and Marilyn's parents start talking to each other.

Mrs. Sparrow: She took everything down, the posters, and we threw away all the CDs.

Mr. Sparrow: All the CDs?

Mrs. Sparrow: Every single one of them, and I think it was about time she did. No daughter of mine will be listening to someone as vile as, Marilyn Manson.

Both of them shrug at Marilyn Manson's name.

Mr. Sparrow: I can't believe he actually killed somebody.

Mrs. Sparrow: His Ex-wife's boyfriend he killed, did he? Dita Von Teese was her name wasn't it?

Mr. Sparrow: Black hair, amazing figure. What's a beauty like her doing with a train wreck like him.

Mrs. Sparrow speaks seductively.

Mrs. Sparrow: The same thing I'm doing with you.

They both laugh and Marilyn walks in. Mrs. and Mr. Sparrow's expressions turn solemn and understanding as soon as they see her. They speak to her comfortingly, but their words all sound so fake.

Mrs. Sparrow: Marilyn, honey, we want you to know, we understand what you are going through, and we used to support Marilyn Manson whole heatedly.

Mr. Sparrow: But now we're glad you decided to turn your back on him.

Marilyn: I haven't turned my back on him.

Mrs. Sparrow is shocked.

Mrs. Sparrow: You haven't? Why not?

Marilyn: Because he never ever turned his back on us. I'm going to school now, bye.

Marilyn leaves, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow stare at her, and then look back at each other, looking angry and upset. The scene darkens and ends. The lights brighten again and it's a classroom. Students are gathered, talking and laughing. Marilyn walks in and puts her bag on a table, sitting down. One of the students, Sally, walks to her and starts talking loudly and obnoxiously.

Sally: Did you hear the news about Marilyn Manson? I told you he's a weirdo.

The rest of the students start laughing. Marilyn smiles awkwardly and sits down to start reading a book, trying to block them out. Sally returns to the rest and they start talking about Marilyn Manson.

Gabby: It's just the way he is. I was wondering when he would kill somebody. It's about time.

Alexandra: He's a poor thing though. Sick, twisted.

Victoria: You bet.

Sally: I wonder what he did with the body, I bet he ate it.

The students laugh.

Beatrice: Maybe he fucked it.

Sally: Maybe he fucked it and then he ate it! Or ate it while fucking it. He's disgusting.

Alexandra: He's going to jail though.

Sally: I hope he gets the death penalty. I'd like to see a video of him in the electric chair.

Sally starts making spastic jerking movements. The students start laughing. Marilyn slams her book down on the table, hard, to stop them from laughing. They just look at her. The teacher, Mrs. Way comes in at right at that moment and the students quickly get back to their place. She puts her books down on the table and turns to the students, her hands on her hips. The class is always monotonous but loud and vocal during her lessons and they treat her like a lost old lady.

Mrs. Way: Alright class, what were we supposed to do today?

Sally: We were supposed to skip lesson and have free time.

Mrs. Way scowls at Sally.

Victoria: Shut up Sally. We were going to speak on a topic you chose for us.

Mrs. Way: Oh yes, yes I remember. I did choose a topic. Turns around to the chalkboard and writes on it quickly, underlining whatever she has written with one line. Does the influence of the media have a detrimental effect on the minds of children and teenagers. What do you all think?

All the students nod their heads. Marilyn doesn't do anything and stays still.

Mrs. Way: What do you think, Marilyn.

Marilyn: I think, the media does not have a detrimental effect on anyone.

Mrs. Way: Really? Why?

Marilyn: Because the media just shows itself. We're the ones who decide how it's going to affect it.

Sally: She only says that because she listens to Marilyn Manson, and he just killed someone. Puts emphasis on the words "Marilyn Manson"

Marilyn: Loses her temper and Growls at Sally Shut up.

Sally: Well it's true-

Marilyn: Yelling I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

Mrs. Way: Marilyn, watch your tongue.

Marilyn: I'LL RIP YOUR TONGUE OUT YOU STUPID OLD LADY.

Sally: You're gay, and Marilyn Manson's disgusting. I don't see why you should get mad over this.

The students start laughing. Marilyn gets up, very angry . She picks up a sharp pencil and storms to Sally, stabbing her in the chest. The rest of the students scream and run away from the both of them. Marilyn stabs Sally hard and as many times as she can and blood is spurting out everywhere. Marilyn screams at her in between stabs. Mrs. Way goes to a corner of the classroom and cowers for a while before rushing out the door.

Marilyn: DID HE? DID HE? HE'S NOT DISGUSTING, YOU ARE.

The principal rushes in and grabs a struggling Marilyn, pulling her away from Sally's dead body. Two more teachers rush towards her and take the pencil out of her hand. The school nurse comes as well and she stabs a syringe into Marilyn, who faints on the floor soon after. The students, principal, nurse and teachers all stare down at her. The lights dim and the scene ends.

Scene 3

The scene opens. It's a jail cell. The whole cell is grey and there's a white bed in the corner. Marilyn is sitting down on it wearing prison clothes. There's a sound of doors banging shut and she jerks, frightened. The storyteller's voice come on. Marilyn ignores him again.

Storyteller: They put Marilyn in jail for killing the girl named Sally, and she's been sentenced to die by hanging exactly one year from now. Marilyn Manson got the death penalty for killing Dita Von Teese's boyfriend. Marilyn Manson's going to be hung in the prison today, at the guillotine. Marilyn Sparrow's going to die in the same guillotine next year.

A bell chimes overhead. Marilyn goes stiff, staring at the floor in shock. Tears stream own her face as she realizes what has just happened, and she buries her face in her hands, crying.

Storyteller: There's the bell. Someone rings it every time someone gets hung at the guillotine. Marilyn knows who has gotten the death penalty today. But don't we all know who?

There's a bang of a door opening and a Prison Warden comes in carrying a tray of food. He speaks harshly to her and like he is disgusted at her.

Prison Warden: Your dinner.

The Prison Warden throws the tray in front of her and turns around to leave. Marilyn stops him. She speaks through her hands and the sound is muffled, as her face is still buried in her palms.

Marilyn: Can I have a pencil?

The Prison Warden turns back and yells. Marilyn looks up at him, her face tear-stained.

Prison Warden: To what, stab me? Stop making stupid requests and eat your food.

The Prison Warden leaves the room. The bang of the door shutting makes Marilyn jerk again and she looks down at the tray of food in front of her. She picks up the butter knife and uses it to slit her arm. She stands up and pushes the bed away from the wall, sitting down cross-legged in front of the wall behind it. She starts writing on the wall with her blood using her finger. The lights flicker on and off as days and nights pass.

Storyteller: Marilyn wrote a word a day for a year until it became a song for Marilyn Manson. It was the only thing she did for him, her idol. But it was sad, the day after the day she finished it, they brought her to the guillotine. The same guillotine Marilyn Manson died in.

The lights fade out slowly, and the clinking of chains can be heard in the darkness. The lights come back on after a while and it is a slightly different dark grey room. There is no furniture except for a guillotine, and only one window with a little bit of light coming in. Marilyn is standing in front of the guillotine. A priest is there as well, along with a few Prison Wardens including the one who had yelled at her, and they are preparing the black sack to cover her face. Marilyn starts singing.

Marilyn: "Will you come back?
Because without you, my world's not black."

Marilyn keeps singing the same lines over and over again. A white figure walks up in front of her. It's Marilyn Manson's ghost. He sings another verse over and over again in symphony with her, in his usual low voice.

Marilyn Manson: "This is where it starts.
This is where it will end.
Here comes the moon again.

This is where it starts.
This is where it will end.
Here comes the moon again."

Both Marilyn Manson's low voice and Marilyn Sparrow's high voice joins to become one piece of music. They continue singing, even when the Prison Warden puts a black sack over Marilyn Sparrow's head. Marilyn Manson stops singing. He picks her hand up and says one final verse to her.

Marilyn Manson: I know it's the last day on earth.

Marilyn Manson puts her hand down gently, turns around, and walks off the stage. The priest says saying a prayer and the Prison Warden pulls the lever. Marilyn falls through the trapdoor. Her singing stops. She struggles, and then goes still, dead. The priest bows his head. The storyteller's voice comes on again.

Storyteller: And that's the story of Marilyn Sparrow, who's last wish, to see her idol Marilyn Manson, came true right before she die. The end.

The full fanfiction is on Fanfiction.net

It's Tokio Hotel, Bill+A fanboy

Bill, I keep making you get hurt
But I hope you don't mind

Because if you ever get hurt in real life, I would cry for days.

Meet Me Backstage
Chapter 10

"You saw him making out with another girl, then you left the club, and you two haven't talked since?" Katy asked. Gabe shook his head slowly, pushing the bits of pasta around on his plate. Katy took a bite of her food and continued.

"And you're not answering my calls," she said. It was true. She'd been calling him almost every hour the past few days, worried sick about him, but he never answered. It was only after she'd gone to his house to speak with him that he'd agreed to come to dinner with her.

"I lost my cell phone," Gabe replied hoarsely. Katy frowned for a while, but relaxed her expression, understanding. Gabe turned to look at the diner's door, half expecting Bill to walk through it. He turned back, moving his attention back to his food, which he barely felt like eating. Katy stared at him for a while.

"You should call him."

"I won't go after someone who doesn't want me."

"How do you know that?"

"Know what?" he asked sharply. Katy picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth with it, taking her time to answer.

"How do you know that he doesn't want you?" she asked again.

"I know he doesn't. Let's just leave it at that, okay?" he said, a little too loudly. Katy looked hurt and it made him feel guilty.

"I'm sorry, it's just, this whole thing. It's fucked up." Katy sighed.

"I just think you're doing something you'll regret by just letting go of Bill like this," she told him. Gabe understood what she was saying. Katy was almost always right but this time, he had to go with what he felt like doing, and it didn't have to be right. He glanced at himself in the mirror opposite their table, behind Katy, trying to see himself in a new light. He wasn't that bad looking, he guessed. His brown hair was too long to be called short, although it barely reached the bottom of his shirt collar. It was mostly messy and in desperate need of a cut, but he had better things to do than sit in a hairdresser's salon being at the mercy of a random woman with scissors. His skin was alright, and his features were in proportion. He was in good shape. He really wasn't that bad looking, he thought.

Katy found him staring at something behind her and she turned to see what he was looking at, glancing at the mirror. She turned back, a confused expression, which morphed back into understanding.

"You need to do something about your inferiority complex, you know that?"

"I'm working on it," he said, giving her a slight smile, which she returned. He turned back to his food, feeling his appetite slowly returning. He barely ate the last five days, only having the food his mother brought into the room for him. It was only after she had threatened to call a psychiatrist did he get up to take a bath and change his clothes. But he spent every other hour in tears. They ate in silence for a while, listening to the soft sounds of the TV behind them.

"Right now, words from a girl who says she had spent the night with, the Tokio Hotel lead singer Bill Kaulitz himself, Kim." Gabe looked up and turned towards the TV. Two women were talking to each other, a familiar looking brown-haired girl, and another, he assumed was the reporter. He put down his fork and gripped the table tightly, angry when he remembered who the girl was. He'd only seen the back of her the other day but he was unmistakable.

"That's her," he said. Katy looked at him and put her hand over his, trying to make him feel better.

"I want to ask a question that, I think many of fans out there want to know. How is Bill in the bedroom?" the reporter asked. Kim laughed, a sickening sound that made Gabe's bones turn icy, and replied.

"He's pretty bad actually. I did most of the work."

"From his looks, we were thinking the exact opposite."

"Well, I guess looks are deceiving," she said, giving that same bloody laugh. Gabe felt the sudden urge to walk to right where she was at that moment and punch her on the face. He gripped the side of the table tighter, and Katy patted his hand slowly.

"Relax, Gabe." Gabe didn't answer her, concentrating on the television.

"Any other things about Bill you can tell us?"

"He's very romantic."

"Really? In what way?"

"He couldn't stop whispering into my ear all through the night, telling me, all sorts of things."

"Like what?"

"The regular stuff, "I love you." and, "You're so beautiful." Some of it were cheesy but the rest, well, he's good with words." Gabe couldn't stand watching it anymore. He stood up from his chair and picked up his backpack, trying not to break down again. Katy took her hand back and watched him as he left the diner quickly without saying another word. She stared down at her food, not feeling the need to eat anymore and requested for the bill. The waiter went to get it and she leant back on the chair, closing her eyes because she was so tired.

Katy opened them as the waiter put the bill on her table and she dug into her wallet to pay for the food. She noticed movement from the corner of her eye and looked up. A black Cadillac she'd definitely seen before was pulling into a parking lot. She watched as Bill Kaulitz got out from the driver's seat, alone this time. He locked his car by pressing a button on the keys he was holding and looked up. He set eyes on Katy while she was still watching him and walked towards the diner with his hands in his pockets.

Bill opened the door and stepped in, approaching her. His usual confident swagger was gone and he looked pretty messed up. Katy saw him coming towards her and picked her bag up, making to get out of her seat. He stopped her.

"No, please, stay."

"What do you want?" she snapped at him.

"Please. I've been coming here every night looking for some sign of you, or Gabe. I need to talk to him." He said Gabe's name with a soft sigh.

"You said enough by making out with that whore at the fan party, and then fucking her afterwards," she said. He looked at her, wondering how Gabe could have already known.

"Oh yeah, Gabe saw you two getting it on at the fan party, and do you know how hurt he was by that? As for the sex, your chick just blabbed about it to the whole world on Entertainment Tonight. Is this what you do to the people who love you?" Katy stuffed a fifty dollar bill into the velvet book that held the bill and pushed past him, going out of the diner. Bill watched her leave, and sank down onto a chair. Gabe knowing about it and being upset was worse than Gabe not knowing about it at all. The waiter tapped him on the shoulder lightly.

"Sir, do you want anything?"

Bill shook his head, standing up and leaving. He went into his car and got into the drivers seat, breaking down once he had closed the door. He regretted being so stupid, and selfish. He started the car, barely knowing where he was going or which way he was heading. The tears in his eyes made it hard to see, and the roads were slippery. He only spotted a deer when it was too late, and lost control of his car as he swerved to avoid it. The steering wheel was no longer under his control, and he could only watch as his Cadillac crashed headfirst into a tree. The force of it made his body jerk forward, and he was thrust forward into the windshield. A sharp pain in his head and stomach were the last things he remembered.

Trying to terrorize people with the concept of Hell in order to to get them to believe in god or jesus,
And then telling them that if they do believe, they can have the nonexistent bliss that is heaven.
I don't buy it.

It is like me coming up to you and saying I have tons of money for you,
But the only way for you to get it, is to believe in my imaginary friend.
However, if you don't believe in my imaginary friend, I will kill you personally in the worst way possible.
It's almost exactly the same thing,
It's just that the legal term for what I'm doing is extortion.