literature

My Killjoy Story

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Party Poison, Jet Star, Kobra Kid, Fun Ghoul. Dead. All of them. Dead.
It hasn't sunken in yet. I can't believe it. Girl's safe. We know that. Doctor Death-Defying and the others got to her as she escaped from Korse and his minions. But the Killjoys have been killed. First Party Poison, then Kobra Kid, then Fun Ghoul. Fun Ghoul actually locked himself in to give Jet Star and girl a chance. Jet Star was killed too. Dr. Death-Defying said he saw his body on top of the Trans-Am.
I'm not going to lie to you though. I couldn't abide by the top Killjoys. They didn't half get on my nerves, driving around in that clapped out old banger, acting all high and mighty with that little charity case of theirs'! We're all in the same boat here, there's no room for ranks, and they thought they could boss us all about. Well look at where that's got them. I told Party Poison that he should have had more of us on the 'front line', but would he listen? No. Because he was an idiot.
I should probably introduce myself about now. I'm Cyanide Princess. Hey. I know the name's a cliché, but I didn't have long to pick one out. No-one gives their real name out here. It would make it too easy for people to find us. I was brought up pretty well, I know my abc's, I can speak French, my maths is great, and I was doing more GCSEs than I care to mention. None of that matters anymore! My parents were some of the first to be taken over by the medication. We're a pretty well-to-do family, and we were the first to be hit. Dad's influential you see, so once he'd been taken over, so were dozens of other people, and dozens of others after them. A chain reaction.
I know my parents are looking for me, but I can't go back to them. It would be too easy to fall back into their arms and take my medication and be all 'happy' and 'fulfilled'. I'm 15 and I drive around the wastelands on a motorcycle. 3 Years ago that would have been a dream come true, and now it's a living nightmare. When I found out what was going on, I joined up with the Killjoys in my nearest zone. I lived in England then. My best friend, Happy Camper (see what I mean about the crap names?) joined up too. When they found out how good a team we made, they shipped us off to California. On a boat across the Atlantic. I get sea sick. It was horrible! We were met off of the boat by the 'big four', and they accompanied us to their base. It's not much. A ramshackle old café in the middle of the desert. There we found supplies. I was able to swap the clothes I'd run away in (my navy blue jogging bottoms, white t-shirt and black hoodie) for some clothes more suited to my new lifestyle. A bright red pair of jeans with black lightning bolts on them, a green t-shirt with a printed waist coat, a black leather jacket, black leather driving gloves and a pair of scuffed black kicker boots that fitted me perfectly. I finished the ensemble with a red bandana and pink neon stripes across my cheekbones. I figured if Party Poison could have that red around his jaw, I could have this. I looked pretty goddamn fly. We were taken out back, to where there were periodic piles of metal, which, to the untrained eye, would look like scrap, but I could tell that they were vehicles. A bright purple motorcycle caught my eye. I went over an inspected it. It had some minor damage to the exhaust and its' breaks were shot, but I knew I could fix it in a couple of hours. I turned to Dr. Death-Defying.
"Who owns that bike?" I asked.
"No-one anymore," He sighed "it belonged to Palma Violet, but the draculoids got her. We only ever found her bike." He sighed again. "That's the way it is out here, I'm afraid."
"Can I have it?" I asked quietly, not wanting to disrespect the memories of Palma Violet.
"Of course." Doctor Death-Defying replied. "Nothing out here is wasted." And the bike became mine. I hunted around the yard for parts and fixed it up. By the time I was finished, I was sweating under the afternoon sun. I hurried inside and asked the nearest person- a Lady-boy wearing roller-skates- for a glass of water. He fetched me one, and I downed it in one gulp.
"Where are the showers?" I asked, longing to wash the sweat and grease from the bike off of my body.
"Well," said the lady-boy, with a smile "there's a bucket and a watering can by a tap behind a curtain outside. I'm called Show Pony, by the way." He grinned at me. Great. Just great. I jogged outside and hurriedly washed myself down. It was nice to be clean again. When I got back in, Happy Camper was there, sat at a grimy table eating what looked like dog food next to Girl.
"Alright there darl?" He asked me, through mouthfuls of gunk.
"Been better mate, been better." I grinned at him, like I would have done when we were at school together, just two normal kids trying to get by. Back then, our biggest worries were GCSEs, AS level options and prom dates. Life as a Killjoy really puts everything into perspective! It was at that moment that Party Poison walked in. He came over to me, and I could see he had something hidden behind his back.
"So, Doctor D tells me you've got Palma's old bike?" He grinned lopsidedly at me.
"Yeah, and what of it?" I practically growled. The last few months had taught me many things, and one was to not trust people.
"I just figured you'd be needing this, kid!" He laughed, whipped a motorbike helmet from behind him, and shoved it over my head. That was when I took a dislike to him. I AM NOT A KID.
First part of my Killjoy story- my Killjoy name is Cyanide Princess.
Happy Camper is based on my best friend, Jack :)
© 2011 - 2024 nininoonoo
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vintagelightning's avatar
well princess im vintage lightning call meh vin