(continued)
But, when he asked me about Bettayetta's lyrics in 'Erasing', I felt my face flush hot with shame and embarassment. Instinctively, I thought of Guarded's lyrics, "Why does it sound like the devil is laughing", and I knew why. Because he probably was, indeed, laughing at the predicament I had caused for myself.
I had let myself get consumed in a David and Bettayetta fantasy. I would watch The Night video several times every night , just before I went to bed. I'd put my face close to the screen, and with David's face raging just inches from mine, I created a fantasy scheme where I would dramatically end my life, but it would be at David's hands.
My Erasing lyrics were in answer to David's This Moment, where he's saying, "I hope you savor this moment -as you're still on your feet -So keep it quiet now -I think you're gonna like it."
I had responded with, "No. I won't renege. Of course you'll see me beg...You are the one I'll keep on pushing -Put your hands on me!"
At first, it was just a game. Continuing, I tried to explain, The next thing I knew, I was posting provoking lyrics to spur on my own demise, "I would die for him. Do I sound like a fanatical fan? Have a taste of maniacal, I would die by his hand!"
I just knew David was thinking, "Let me get this crazy chick off my bus!"
But he just threw back his head and laughed, "Yeah! I get that sort of thing more than you might think!"
The laugh may have been sincere, but it reminded me of the evil one in the Inside The Fire video, and it spurred me on.
"You've got to admit, it IS thought-provoking," I leaned over, bravely putting my face against his neck, and I whispered something I had read in David's own referred reading of The Vampire Chronicles, "Hatred...that is passion. Revenge, that is passion..."
David shifted uneasily, but remained squatted. His hand slid erotically down the back of my leg, but he never took his eyes off mine.
I knew, without a doubt, that he was a fantasy-driven guy. I mean, just look at him: The clean-shaven head; the snakebite with labrets; the Silence of the Lambs mask; the aura of messiah with out-stretched arms; the head-lowered look of the evil entity. I thought of David's evil persona of Inside The Fire, and wondered if I should be tempting him.
He remained still for a couple of minutes, as if actually contemplating the thoughts I had whispered against his neck. Then, just as if there had been no interruption at all, his hand moved smoothly from where he had been stroking my bare ankle, up to between my knees again. There he stopped, and seemed to look directly into my soul. I could not speak. There were no words in existence to interrupt this moment.
Lyrics from every Disturbed song started to instantly flood into my mind. Suddenly, I understood it all. The hurt. The promises. The threats. All the passion. (continued)