Out for Blood: A Billie Joe Story

I wake up, the sun shining bright through my black-curtained windows. I immediately look around for my father, making sure he is nowhere in sight. I stand up, feeling sore everywhere. He left me on the floor last night, and I fell asleep in the corner.

I pull on my army green Bless The Fall shirt with black and red plaid sleep pants, along with a new bra and underwear (the bastard took them with him last night). I open my bedroom door and see him downstairs sitting on the couch, wide awake. He's watching the VH1 show again.

I walk down the stairs and feel him watching me. I walk into the kitchen, eying up the knives. I'll wait until later to release my pain.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls, all nice like he hasn't destroyed my life.

I don't answer. I stay silent. I only talk when Mike and Tre are talking to me, or when I am fighting with my father. I scream when I'm with my father at night in my room.

"You have nothing to say to me," he asks, anger rising in his voice, but then he calmed himself. "Figures; the bitch never talks," he mumbles.

I clench my fists. I don't want him to see how angry I am, so I think about happier things. Kittens. I smile to myself.

"Mike and Tre will be here any minute, so you better fucking talk or they'll know something's up," he says, breaking my thoughts. "Got it?"

I nod with my back to him. I hear him get up and walk over. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. I wince as he squeezes the place he bit. He notices and loosens, but doesn't let go.

I look up at him reluctantly, his eyes burning with desire. I look back down.

"You better as hell behave, or you know what'll happen." With that, he let go. I must have been leaning my weight on to him, because when he let go, I fell to the floor. He looks back at me.

"God, you're pathetic," he laughs and walks outside. I see Mike's car pull up with Tre in the passenger seat. They get out and walk up the path to where my father is standing. I hear Mike ask something.

"Why is Ellie sitting on the kitchen floor?" My father turns and looks at me.

"I don't know, she must've slipped. She looks okay, though," he replies. He turns back around. "Do you guys wanna practice for the tour?"

"Hell yeah, that's why we're here," Tre exclaims. He opens the door and walks in. He looks at me. "Hey, El!" I try my best at smiling. It just barely works. I wave. Mike walks in with my father.

"Do you feed her, Bill," Mike asks softly as a serious question. I glance down at my stomach. My shirt curves in below my ribs and out at my small hips.

"Of course I do; she just refuses to eat," my father murmurs back. He glimpses at me with a slightly disgusted look on his face. They walk downstairs to the recording studio.

I pick myself up off the floor and follow them.