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Big Girls Don't Cry	By : HellsFunnyHome Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Gorillaz Views: 1291 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Damien Albarn and Jamie Hewlett are the true owners of the Gorillaz. I don't know, own, or make any money from them. I also don't know any characters from the band Gorillaz. This is a creation of pure fiction, made up from my own mind.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
White.
Everything was white. The hallways stretched forever, sounds of wailing children echoing in the halls as Vicky hesitantly trudged through the cold, tile floor. Disinfecting odors penetrated the air, as our young heroin took a deep breath, surprised at the sob that followed. Her eyes began to water, the scene in front of her blurring into obscurity until she was suddenly standing in a new room, with nothing but a still body in front of her.
Vicky walked over to the pregnant woman on the bed, her face covered by a bloody rag over a large, pale white sheet. Her hand reached out to the protruding belly, wanting to feel if the babe within was as still as its mother.
"What are you doing?" A hand, belonging to a faceless man, gripped onto her wrist pulling her away and startling Vicky. "Can't you see that your germs will contaminate the baby?" He practically screamed.
Vicky wanted to speak but suddenly, as the woman under the sheet began to scream in agony, so did Vicky. Her abdomen was in so much pain and, as Vicky reached down, she felt something sticky and warm. Vicky screamed, as if it was a competition between the birthing woman and herself, pain and confusion hurting them both.
"V, you a'ight?" The familiar voice caught Vicky's attention; her cousin Lizzie in a nurse's outfit. "You shouldn't be here, it's not safe for the baby." She smiled gently, placing a hand on Vicky's shoulder.
Vicky looked down, her eyes widening in horror. Baby? What baby? Her eyes scanned her abdomen, but she found no sign of a pregnant stomach. Was she losing it? Is that why she was bleeding? She looked up again, to her cousin, her eyes full of questions her voice would not ask. But her cousin was gone.
Vicky howled, the pain in her stomach getting worse, blood coating the white gown she had on.
"C'mon, sweetheart, just keep pushing! You're doing great!"

Fire. Her lungs were on fire!
Vicky began panting, trying to breath through the pain and the fear, seeing her stomach growing with each huff of the artificially cleaned air.
Her legs gave out, causing Vicky to fall on the floor, covering the tile with a pool of thick red. She looked up to her cousin, the nurse, begging for help but, again, her voice failed her and not but a sharp intake of air escaped her. Her belly continued to grow, the pain growing worse, and Vicky felt herself weaken.
"One more push! Ready doctor?" The nurse happily exclaimed, wiping the covered face of laboring woman.
"One big one, c'mon!" exclaimed the waiting doctor.
One high pitched yell filled the room, created by two unifying voices, that of Vicky and the mystery woman.
A baby was heard, softly at first, growing in volume until it rang above the cries of the two women.
"It's a boy!" The nurse exclaimed, bending down in front of Vicky, who was still in shock, panting away. But this wasn't her cousin any longer, it was a stranger, face distorted as the doctors; unrecognizable. Vicky's eyes looked down at her feet, looking for the cause of her pain, and finding a struggling baby boy, purple and covered in plasma.
"Congratulations Ms. Elizabeth! It's a girl!"
The name caught her attention and Vicky looked up to see the face of the woman post-labor, while her hands reached out for the baby on the ground.
"No, no, no, no. Not for you. This is not your baby, Victoria." The nurse scolded, quickly retrieving and cleaning the crying infant.
Vicky touched her head, confusion evident and still not able to create a comprehensive thought, she then reached out for the baby being taken away.
"Now don't be silly Ms. Victoria. You know it is illegal to steal children in the state of Illinois." Vicky looked up to the doctor approaching her with a bundle in his arms. He bent down to her level, uncovering the child within, the one that belonged to the other woman, to show off a mass of dark black wisps. "Besides, why would you want her baby, when yours is so beautiful and perfect?" He smiled, handing over the small bundle.
Vicky began to cry, still confused. This wasn't her child. She didn't give birth to this one, her was in the hands of the other woman! The baby in her arms began to cry, making Vicky look down.
"Just take your nipple and gently lead his mouth, there, that's it! You're doing great!" The cheery instructions for the other woman.
Maybe this baby was hungry? She tried to do the same, uncovering a brown breast and squeezing slightly until a droplet of milk came running down. Satisfied, Vicky took the same hand to uncover the crying baby in her arms but, as the cloth came lose, what she saw was not a newborn baby, but a cold porcelain figurine, whose eyes were wide open and hazel, but dull and lifeless.
What was this?
Vicky looked up, looking for answers, but all she saw was the face of her cousin, Lizzie, lying in the hospital bed, breast feeing the cooing baby boy.

Vicky awoke with a pounding headache and a parched throat; it felt as if she'd dumped a truck of salt into her mouth, the taste was just that overwhelming.
The ceiling was a typical off-white, it being the only thing she could focus her tired eyes on, they too were in stinging pain. 'What happened?' She rubbed her eyes, perhaps to remove a bit of sleep and help her eyes adjust to the lighting in the room. Gritty pebbles rolled across her face from the edge of where forehead met hair; no, it was sand.
"Ow…" She whispered to herself, the pounding not ceasing. "Fuck…"
She slowly sat herself forward onto the edge of the bed, gently bending her hair over the floor and, using her hands, shaking until she could see no more sand. "What?…"
She stared at the floor, her brain taking especially long to recollect herself, but seeing this brought nothing to mind, she looked up to see giant windows overlooking a crystalline ocean and pale blue skies. Vicky's eye's widened in recognition.

His viddies, how he loved his viddies! Murdoc smirked, staring into three out of his many screens, as he kept watch over his plastic kingdom.
There was the one in 2D's room, that was placed right where the door faced the singer's bed; to alert Murdoc if Stuart ever grew the balls to overcome his fear and walk out while being watching by the whale. He laughed a hearty chuckle, there was no way! To think, he had the lanky man in the palm of his hand and all it took was a soddin' whale! Of course, Murdoc would never tell how he bribed the whale, just that he made it worth its while. If her ever told, Murdoc's babysitter would probably be gone for good, then who'd sing for him?!
Murdoc licked his lips, mildly annoyed at his thoughts. Having no one else to talk to, even Murdoc got lonely; it was why he had shipped everyone onto the PB, but nobody could really fill that loneliness; he couldn't stand it. His eyes glanced over to the screen facing the robot.
Ah, yes! The robot! Well, there wasn't much to tell there, really. She'd done her job, but had done it through some miracle because Satan knows how much she'd been malfunctioning lately. Murdoc wanted to blame it on Bruce Willis dry-by shooting - WHICH HE STILL DIDN'T UNDERSTAND BY THE WAY! – but even before then, the android had been having issues. Now? She was looked away in her closet, hooked up to various machines, that would hopefully fix her. It was like robot hospital, except in reality all it did was pump her full of oil, currents of electricity, and Noodle's DNA.
Murdoc burped, scratching his chin in the process. Come to think of it, it probably wouldn't change her all that much, if she even came back to defend his plastic castle. He would have to be careful with how she was acting, nothing too disappointing yet, just unpredictable; like yesterday, how she brought that woman in.
Eyes squinting in suspicion, Murdoc glanced over to the woman sleeping on his bed. She looked in pain, possibly whimpering, though Murdoc couldn't hear. Somehow, watching her like this gave him a sense of deja vú. He knew her, somehow, but then again, Murdoc knew a lot of people and he didn't bother with remembering their names half the time, unless it somehow benefited him.
He was thrown back into his seat when he saw the fit this woman began throwing in his room. Mildly amused at the way she lost control and hurling the boudoir into chaos, Murdoc decided it was time to interrupt her drastic mood swing when he saw her begin to throw things at his window; he had enough glass lying around, without some ninny breaking more! He quickly ran to the lift, yelling in frustration at its leisurely pace and almost breaking his forefinger with the force he pressed the button.
"Stop! Stop, stop!" He yelled to no one in particular; he couldn't see her now! "Stooooooop!" He yelled, running past the lift doors and into his room. Her whole body turned to him, hands gripping firmly onto the heavy clay vase she was just about to smash into the window.
"You…" She hissed menacingly, her eyes narrowing in anger.
"Stop! Stop! Put it down!" Murdoc stomped over to her, pushing her out of the way as he tried to remove the plant from her hold. "Let go!" He growled, "that's a very expensive, very RARE, breed of Anthurium!" He smacked her hand, surprising the woman who pulled her hand back. Murdoc carefully set the pot down, turning angrily to the woman who had her hands clenched in fists of rage, her face pursed and tears starting to drip down her face. "Now, who the hell are you?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
She didn't speak, busy breathing and busy clenching, and unclenching, her hands. Murdoc observed her, she seemed much more familiar now that he was up close to her. Still couldn't place her though.
"Who am I?" She hissed, her voice dangerously low. Looking up she bit her bottom lip, taking in the man who had changed her life dramatically since the moment she first met him. He looked the same, though much older than they had last met. His skin was a lot greener, and his eyes were red and puffy. He was in need of a good shave, as his looked half-assed, and he looked both wider and thinner. Yet he was demanding who she was? Vicky chuckled dryly, stepping closer as the confusion in his face became evident. She had no time for games, Vicky had to get Vladimir back…Still, first things first.
"Ow!" Murdoc whined, thrusting his shoulder back away from the woman who had smacked him. "What was tha-" His question was cutoff when she smacked him again on his other shoulder. "The hell-" Again, she hit him, smacking his chest and, before Murdoc could get a word to defend himself, he was being pushed against the wall by her various strikes.
Vicky smacked him hard against his cheek, leaving a red mark on his face, but her anger and frustration pushed her to keep beating him. He grabbed her wrists tightly, as he yelled at her though she didn't hear it, and she found herself trying to kick him instead. Murdoc maneuvered her around the room, and as her feet kept her balance, she tried biting him, satisfied when she heard a loud yell. She thrashed against him, trying to inflict upon him the damage she felt inside, but her shock was broken when she felt the bed press against her back. Vicky's eyes widened in astonishment, everything had happened so fast and now she stared up at Murdoc with a face of pure hate. She panted, adrenaline coursing through her system, and she attempted to move again, get away from his peering eyes. An unexpected relief crashed into her when realization came suddenly into his eyes and he said just one thing, "Queenie?"
- 7
- 8
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Big Girls Don't Cry