Paper Lanterns

I sat in the kitchen crying for probably fifteen minutes, when the doorbell rang. I didn't bother to get up, although it was only thirty feet away.

"Grace?" I heard Billie shout through the door.

"It's open," I attempted to yell back, and he immediately entered.

"Where are you?" he went into the living room.

"The kitchen," I answered, still curled up by the counter.

Upon entering the kitchen, Billie's eyes widened, and his gaze softened. Kneeling down beside me, he asked, "What happened?"

I shook my head, wiping the tears and eyeliner off my cheeks and face. Billie reached out, and gently turned my face to see the dark red print of my brother's hand, and the cuts he'd left.

"Did someone try to break in?" he asked quietly.

"No.. I tripped and fell down the stairs.. Can we just go now?" I could tell he wasn't buying it, but I didn't care.

After helping me out, and to his beat up, old, black Ford, he drove me to his apartment in silence. We were on the bad side of the tracks.. Not there was much difference, but still. I could tell. The building was old and horribly run down, and inside Billie's apartment was nearly as bad.

The wallpaper was peeling, the carpet was stained a multitude of colours, but those were mostly covered with band posters, and things strewn about over the floor in a huge mess.

Billie sat me on the bathroom sink, and after he insisted on cleaning me up, I finally let him.

"Okay. Enough bullshit, who did this?"

I looked around, and saw Mike in the small living room. I shut the door with my foot, and let out a small sigh.

"Jeff came home pretty stoned and a bit drunk.. I tried to get past him to go downstairs, but he just went off on me, and I shouted back, I guess making it worse. I can't remember much after he dragged me downstairs and hit me a few times," I let out shakily, "he said that if I told our dad, he'd make it worse..much worse."

Billie stood in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist in a comforting hug. Resting my head in the crook of his neck, I hugged onto him for dear life, taking in the scent of his cologne. Billie rubbed my back, telling me everything would be okay.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch," I heard him mutter.

The better half on an hour passed, when Billie asked, "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

I nodded, not bothering to think. No way in hell would I go home and face my brother. I felt a sharp pain in my back, and groaned, "Billie.."

It felt like he was pressing something hard into my back, but he was just barely running his fingers over me. Billie let go, and lifted my shirt enough to see dark bruises forming.

He kept surprisingly calm, though. I knew he wanted nothing more to explode, and I could tell by the look of concentration on his face.

"C'mon, let's get you changed," he helped me down, and to his small, dimly lit bedroom. When he handed me a t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxers, I thanked him before he left the room, and changed. He came back in shortly after.

"You can sleep in here. I'll be on the couch if you need anything," he leaned over , grabbing a pillow.

"Wait, Billie Joe. I don't think I want to be by myself right now."

He nodded, and I got into the bed, leaving him room. I saw a conflicted look on his face, and I told him, "It's okay if you don't feel comfortable. I totally understand."

Smiling, he answered, "What are friends for?" and stripped down to his boxers and white undershirt.

"Thanks," I snuggled into the sheets that smelled like Billie.

Not his cologne or shampoo, but his scent. I didn't even notice him get under the covers, I was so involved with trying to figure out what he smelt like. Whatever it is, it's quite nice.. and calming.. Before I knew it, I began drifting in and out of sleep.

"Hey Billie Joe?" I asked twenty minutes later.

"Yeah?"

"What happens if he does this again?"

"I won't let it happen."

"Thanks," I yawned, then was silent for ten more minutes.

"Hey Billie?"

"Mmh?"

"Thanks for everything.. I can't even begin to reapay you.."

"No problem.." he mumbled.

"Goodnight," I whispered to him, and he replied, "Mm'night."

The next morning, I woke up alone.

'Was last night just a dream?' I asked myself, rubbing my closed eyes, and stretching. Half of me hoped so, not wanting the abuse, but the other half willed it to be true, because it showed a very different side of Billie.

Breathing deeply, I realized that it wasn't a dream; I was met with that comforting scent. One that I couldn't place. I pulled myself out of bed, and went to the bathroom to change back into my clothes,
then went into the kitchen.

'Odd.. Where is everyone?' my question was answered instantly by a note taped to the box of Rice Krispies cereal I'd found.


-GRACE
Mike & I went to band practice at Tre's. We'll be back at 3. You can stay and chill here if you want. See ya later.
Billie.

I glanced at the clock on the microwave, which read noon. Groaning, I poured a bowl of Rice Krispies, then milk, and found a spoon. I ate while sitting on the beaten brown couch, watching Saturday morning cartoons on their small tv.

God, now I feel lame. I still live with my father.. But it's April. Graduation is May 23rd, and then I'm gone. Maybe to college.. Maybe on a road trip, or just move away and start in a new city, or state.. Then there was Billie's offer. I could be in the band.

'No. He just said it 'cause he felt bad about offering the job to Tre and not you,' I told myself. But Tre did need this more than I did, so it didn't bother me. He's a good natured, energetic guy who can bang away at a drum set and actually make it sound great.

Though.. He did like that song I wrote. There was the 'go to practice/gigs with them, and 'help out however I can' theory too.

I set the empty bowl on the coffee table, and lay on my stomach on the couch.

'Yeah. I like the last one,' I thought before concentrating on the TV. Apparently that didn't last long, because I dozed off ten minutes after.