Green Day Vs Bush 2- Bush's Revenge

The Letter

I may not like it, but I can kinda see why Adie left. I’m not really paying attention to my surroundings anymore. I’ve already taken in every detail of this cold, depressing place already, there’s only a few others here now, and they look like they might leave soon. My wait is almost over. I chose this place for a reason. I didn’t want to bring death and misery into the place that had been so full of life and happiness. Okay there had been rows, sibling rivalry, occasional depression and falling-outs, but it had been a happy family home. I didn’t want to leave that memory to my kids if they ever came back. I didn’t want them to enter the house and think ‘this is the room where I found dad’s body.’ Besides, I had nobody any more. They probably wouldn’t find me until… well I don’t know when.

The morning after, I woke up alone. Nothing unusual there, Adie was often up before me, when I got any sleep at all. I went downstairs, expecting her to be there. She wasn’t in the kitchen. I called her name, no reply. Then I spotted the note on the fridge. My blood ran cold. I knew what it would say, without even reading it. I grabbed it anyway and read, and as I did I could hear Bush repeating the words in my head, making it a thousand times worse as he was making no attempt not to laugh:

Billie,
I’m so sorry about this hun, but something is wrong with you. The way you were last night was the final straw. Never before in our marriage have I been scared of you, but I was scared last night. In my heart I know you wouldn’t hurt me if you were in your right mind, but you aren’t, I can see that. I love you more than you can ever know, but I can’t put our kids at risk, however small that risk could be, and whoever it comes from. So I’ve gone to my mom’s house with the boys. Don’t try to contact me, but be sure I still love you. I always will. You will always be in my heart, as you always have been.
Adie.

I screwed up the note and threw it across the room. I could hear Bush’s mad laughter echoing inside my head. This was the highlight of his death, the final nail in my coffin, and he knew it. I sank to the floor and wept uncontrollably, until I had no more tears to cry. Even after, I just sat there, listening to him laughing, jeering, singing. Mike’s song, the song I had sung when he had died, the song we had all sung when he had died. Now he was singing it for me. The tables had turned, he was on top, and me and him both knew it.