Out for Blood: A Billie Joe Story

My father nods as he stands back up and walks downstairs. I sit there for a few minutes before I walk down also. Mike is on the phone and my father and Tre are silent. I walk over to the couch and sit down. My father looks up at me from his place on the recliner with a heart breaking look in his eyes. I look down.

"Thanks, Susan. Yeah, bye," Mike says nto the receiver of the phone before hanging up. He looks at both me and my father. "You guys are going back tomorrow to talk about what happened today and other things."

"Do you know who's gonna go first," I murmur.

"She said she wanted Billie to go first so she knows what to talk to you about. He has some things to tell her... and some things to tell you."

"She knows, Mike. She heard every word I told you," my father says quietly, emotionlessly. I look up at Tre, but he has his head down.

"We all know, Billie," he says. "Now we all know that you've been a sick bastard that's lucky as fucking hell that El is brave enough to not report you to the cops and still live with you." I stare at Tre in awe as my father stares at him the same way. Tre looks up and meets my father's gaze. "Honestly, Bill, I will never look at you or think about you the same way ever again." My father swallows, but it looks like he's holding back tears.

"I'm sorry, Tre. I really am, because I don't know why I've done this to Ellie, but I can't stop this. I've tried explaining that to you, but I understand why you would hold some resentment toward me." I rub my eyes and look at the clock, which reads 9:42 pm. I stand up.

"I'm going to bed," I say, and walk up the stairs to my room. I change into a pair of sweats and lie down with a thousand thoughts running through my head.

To be honest, I am scared to death that my father will come in my room tonight while I'm sleeping. I can't stop thinking about it, so that's the last thought I have before I go to sleep. Unfortunately, I dream about that as soon as I sink into unconsciousness.

***

I wake up startled due to the dream. Actually, it turned out to be a nightmare. It was exactly the story my father told Mike, but seeing it (hypothetically speaking) really scared me. I shake it off as best I can and take a long shower to calm down my nerves. When I shut the water off, I hear my bedroom door open. Someone knocks on my bathroom door.

"El? You in there," my father asks sincerely. So much for the shower calming me down.

"Yeah," I say, but my voice cracks halfway through.

"Okay, come downstairs when you're done." A few seconds later, my bedroom door closes. I let out a long breath, unaware that I wasn't breathing while he was outside the door, and wrapped the towel around me. I walk into my room and throw on an orange Paramore shirt that says "Riot!" all over it in white with black skinny jeans. I look at the time (10:53 am) and put on my black Chuck Taylors. I grab my jacket and put it on as I walk downstairs. My father looks at me with his keys in his hand.

"Ready to go," he asks. I nod and we walk out to the car. We drive to the psychologist's office in silence and when we get there, Susan is waiting for us. I sit in a chair as Susan puts down the magazine she was reading.

"You're first, Billie Joe," she says. They walk back to the "talking room" as I rest my head on the back of the chair.