Charisma

Berkley, California.

The cool breeze of the early morning dawn blew in through my rolled down window as I sat in the driveway looking up at the home that had essentially become my second home during my stay here in California.

It was nearing five in the morning and I had less than an hour to decide if this was really the best idea. I knew it was not the smartest, but it could easily be the best thing at the moment. I could always come back, couldn't I? I had written him a letter, explaining mostly everything, except the biggest reason: our baby.

I subconsciously pulled out a cigarette from the pack that had been sitting in my cup holder ever since I first stepped foot into this car.

"Fuck!" I yelled, throwing it out the window.

I couldn't smoke while I was pregnant, and I was doing a great job with quitting cold turkey thus far. But when I'm stressed, I smoke. But I couldn't smoke now - I had a bigger priority to worry about.

I sighed once more, turning the ignition and backed out of his driveway as slowly as I could.

"I love you, Billie Joe Armstrong." I muttered as I looked in my rear view mirror as I drove down the cul-de-sac.

I grew up without a father for the majority of my childhood and I think I turned out fine. I'm not psychologically scarred, or attracted to older men because of "daddy issues". I'm happy, optimistic, and happy I got to spend more time with my father when the time came. He's my best friend and he wasn't there for me in the beginning. Maybe going to London wouldn't be too terrible after all.

Upon arriving home, I saw my dad sitting out on the steps for an early morning smoke. I picked up my smoking habit from my father, and it was something we bonded over a lot of the time. Many people might find it weird or unusual but to us, it's normal.

"Hey dad," I muttered, walking up the walkway.

"Hey sweetie. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it home on time." He chuckled lightly, inhaling.

"I couldn't really sleep last night so I was bound to be awake on time." I took a seat next to him and he threw his free arm around my shoulders.

"How'd he take it?"

"Um," I stuttered, "I didn't tell him. I tried to find the best moment but we ended up going to sleep earlier then I expected."

"So you left without giving him an answer?"

I felt my throat tightening and I placed my hands on stomach.

"Well...no. I wrote him a note and I left it in his guitar case because I knew that was the fastest way he would find it." I laughed internally thinking about his dirty room.

"Charisma, don't you think it would hurt him less if you verbally told him and actually said a good-bye?" He put out his cigarette with his sock and I ignored the unusual action as I thought about him.

"It would be too hard, and this is a whole lot more complicated than anybody knows. And that would make it even more difficult."

"What is making this so difficult? Yes, it's hard to say good-bye to the one you love but if you are certain you want to come home with us, then it needs to be done. You can't run away and act like your time here never happened."

"That's not what I'm doing! I can't say what's making it more difficult, it's not time yet."

London, England.

Waiting outside the London International Airport was our aunt and cousins. My favorite cousin, Emma, ran for me as I walked out of the automatic doors and the familiar scent of home hit me with a smack in the face.

"Chrissy!" My cousin embraced me tight. It was unusual to go more than a few days without seeing her, and it was nice to be greeted so wholeheartedly.

"Emma, bullocks, I missed you!" My accent thick. Being back in the home land meant there was no need to hold back because it was normal here. This was my home, and it was where I belonged.

"I missed you too!" She exclaimed, backing up to inspect me. I smiled as I stared at her, til I realized she was staring a bit too long in a certain area.

I looked down at my stomach before meeting her hard stare.

"Charisma," She giggled, "Are you up the stick?"

I choked.

"What gives you that idea? Are you mad?" I looked down at myself innocently.

"You look more round. Especially your stomach. Are you sure you haven't gone and made yourself a mistake?"

"You've never been to America Emma, you don't know what kind of greasy foods they have over there. I'm sure my old weight will come back in no time." I winked, beginning to walk towards our car before things got out of hand.

She laughed. "Right, right. I forgot. I can't believe I actually thought you could be pregnant at such an early age. Not you, of all people."

Later that night I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at the luggage I had to eventually unpack. I saw my records poking through my carry-on bag and I smiled at the first time Billie and I ever met.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts and I tried to pull myself together before causing unwanted attention.

"Charisma, can I come in?" My father's voice yelled on the other side of the wall.

"Sure." I muttered, knowing he would come in anyway.

"How are you holding up, dear?" He asked sitting beside me on my bed.

I stared at the record.

"I don't know. I'm numb, I'm excited, I'm happy, I'm sad. I'm a mixture of things and I'm trying to figure out how this could be under these circumstances."

I felt the tears escaping from my eyes. I stared down at the record hard, wishing hard that I could just suddenly disappear.

I took a big gasp of breath as I finally stopped trying to make the tears go away. The hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I turned toward my father and announced, "I'm pregnant."