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 }}Fallen||Angel{{ ))Private//Mature?((

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PostSubject: }}Fallen||Angel{{ ))Private//Mature?((   Fri Apr 01, 2011 9:42 am

    Staring at her wrists, she wondered where the puncture wounds had come from. She hadn't done this...had she? She didn't do drugs...did she? Her hazy mind held no answers for her and each question rang hollowly as if falling into a void.

      Someone called a name. It didn't sound familiar, but she still looked up. To her surprise, she realized that they were calling to her. Their hands waved frantically, gesturing her over. They needed her. It was obviously something that they viewed as important. Should that make it important to her? She didn't know. It didn't seem important so she let it go.

        There was a change, though she didn't know what. She just knew that something was different so she had to move. Knowing she wasn't stoned but feeling like she was far from sober, she stood and stumbled forward. More calls of the name that was not her own followed her as she raced away, heading towards her home. It wasn't until she was beyond the entrance of the place that she realized the had no home. Still, turning back wasn't allowed. That was why she had no home. That was also why she could not venture to the place she had left.

          Onward, she ventured alone.

    Victoria Emily Robson, known as Viki by her friends and Venom by her fans, was a striking eighteen. The general public didn't know that. As far as they knew, she was celebrating her twenty second that year. If her manager had anything to say, it would stay that way for the rest of her life.

    Even before her music got picked up and her body was labeled as smoking hot, Viki drank and enjoyed her cigarettes. When she had first started singing, she had jested that her claim to fame was her rough voice and the tobacco and alcohol had given her that. Back then, it had been a joke among her friends that her life was a gift of LDS and her future was a present from her father vodka. In a very sad, but very honest way, it truly and honestly was. If not for the drugs her mother had been wired on for six months out of her pregnancy, Victoria would have certainly been aborted. For the few years she was in her mother's care, there was never a chance missed that she wasn't reminded of that.

    Maybe that was what drove Victoria to drinking at the young age of twelve or maybe it was the molestation she suffered in her first foster home or maybe it was because she had never stayed more than a few weeks in any one house since she had turned nine or maybe it was just bad genetics that drove her to the same sins that had destroyed her own mother.

    "Venom, poison in my veins. Venom, my brand of pain. Venom, seeping through my brain. Venom, poison in my veins," the young adult sang under her breath as she danced around nervously. She had no clue where she was. Earlier that day, she had suffered from a massive mental break down, not her first and probably not her last. Like a few times before, she had bolted for a door. Usually, someone managed to grab her when they realized something was wrong, but not this time. She had slipped right out and raced down the street.

    Now she had no clue where she was at or where the hell she should be going.

    Of course, the young, raven haired female wasn't trying to figure that out too quickly. She was quite content roaming the streets. It wasn't often that she got to walk along and since she had a concert, any fans that might recognize her were gathered in one place. There would be plenty of warning before she had to face the crazies.

    Just before she could settle into a real mental calm, far from all of the drama, a trickle of sorrow crept into her. Thoughts, memories, premonitions filtered through her, poisoning her, leaving her confused and uncertain. Panic attacks are what her doctor had told her they were. She didn't get it. It wasn't panic. There was no panic because she didn't feel frantic, just...suppressed. Everything was too heavy and none of it made sense. It all just left her wanting to curl up in a ball.

    Normally she had something to do or somewhere to go, but this time she didn't so she gave in.

    Closing her eyes and curling into a ball, Victoria leaned into the rough, brick front of the store. In the middle of a city whose name she didn't know with no way to contact anyone and not knowing if anyone would hear her if she cried for help, she sat down and closed her eyes. All she felt was relief and this bizarre relief pushed her to tears.


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