Daughter of Rage and Love

Bill didn't bother with PJ's; he just chucked his jeans off and hopped into bed with only a t-shirt and his underwear on. He wrapped the black duvet cover around his tattooed body and yawned. He crept closer to his wife and hugged her. Adie kissed his cheek and sighed.

"Why did you keep her away from me Adie?" Bill asked her.
"She's Joey's twin sister. On all the tummy scans only one baby came up; even their heartbeats were in sync. When I gave birth... Joey came out first and then... the doctors told me to push some more and she came out. You weren't there when I gave birth. If you knew you had a daughter and a son, when you were expecting only one... I had to give her up. You had a career, a life and we had so many troubles and she'd..."
"Shh... It's okay." Bill said as he wiped away her tears from her crying eyes, "She'll be home soon. And we can be a complete family. It'll be alright."
"It won't be though, what about the press? Or her foster parents? What about Jakob or Joey? What if she doesn't like me..." She sobbed into her loving husbands shoulder.

"Adie, it'll all be fine. We can sort out the press. And Jake and Joey would love to have a sister. And I'm sure she'll like you. You're her mom after all." Bill explained rationally.
"But think about it, how would you like it if you just found out that some adopted girl you never met shared the same womb as you?" Adie said brutally looking into Bill's green eyes.
"I... I... Look, we'll break the news gently to them. We just gotta take our time on this. We'll make it work. Don't you worry. I'll find a way." Bill said as he held Adrienne tighter to his body. He kissed her on the lips and whispered goodnight.

***

"Ugh...Wha? What time is it? 6.30? Oh... Not now Gerard! ... Where's the off button on this bloody thing?" Came from under the pillow. 'I Don't Love You' was playing loudly from out of her bedside speaker. Her second-hand iPod (from her ugly, boring, brutish, 'always perfect' brother none the less) was hooked up to her new-ish speaker and playing one of Lillith's favourite songs. It was My Chemical Romance, a band she had always loved and woke up to. Lillith opened her eyes and was met with an onslaught of ginger fur.
"Morning Mouse. Now shove off!" Lillith sat up in bed and pushed her pet cat off of her covers. She didn't find the off button; she just repeatedly pressed the 'low volume'.
She moaned and muttered something under her breath; she had never cared for Monday mornings. She promised herself to go to the bathroom to do her hygeine chores but her head was soon back on the fluffy pillow she called home.
'Lillith get out of that bed right now!'
'I'm coming! I'm coming! Sheesh.' Lillith shouted in her head.
'Today's gonna be a good day!' said her subconscious.
'No it's not.' She thought.

Mondays were never good for Lillith; she had to return back to her hellish school; be tortured by her brutish teachers and be looked down upon by her peers. But there would be something good about a Monday. On a Monday Mr House would come in. He would treat her like her star pupil; for he was her guitar teacher and role model.
Lillith loved to play the guitar; it was the only thing she was good at. She didn't have a proper electric guitar like she had always wanted; she had inherited a well used acoustic. It was spray painted sky blue and a bit of the nut at the top was broken. It was tuned; but only slightly. Even if it was a hunk of junk she adored it. She brought it in for her lessons; and each time she entered the small cramped practise room, her gaze would be met by her tutor's.

Mr House wasn't bad looking for his age; he had brown hair and blue eyes and he wore shirts over long sleeved tops. He could always be found wearing shorts in summer and bell bottoms in winter. Lillith once asked him his age; "25 and still young!"
House had gone through the whole university thing but he still acted like a teenager; he didn't even like being called Mr House; he preferred it if Lillith called him Charlie, he didn't believe in last names.

"Hey Lillith!" Charlie said as she entered the little room.
"Hey Charlie, you ready to make some sweet music?" Lillith asked buoyantly.
"Er... yeah..." Charlie said as he lifted an eyebrow. Silence rang through the tiny room that was filled with guitars and drums.
"Awkward silence..." Lillith stated absentmindedly.
"Indeed. Why don't you just sit next to me for a start?" He asked breaking the ice.
"Sure thing." She said as he sat down on the chair next to him. She unzipped her canvas bag and pulled out her hunk of junk.
'Why does she have to play that thing?' Charlie thought as he gave her a speculating look.
"Okay, so do you remember the chords I taught you last time?" He asked her.
"Yep, and I remembered to bring in the tab you wanted." She replied with a smile.
"Wonderful!" Charlie said as he placed his guitar in his lap. He took the leaf of printed paper off of Lillith and inspected the tab.

"do do do..." He muttered whilst looking at the notes, "Good Riddance Time of Your Life - Green Day. It's tough. You sure you want to play it at the recital?"
"I love this song! I want to play it. It's special to me." Lillith replied almost in a whisper. It was true; the song she began to learn and play that whole half hour was special to her. It made her happy when she was sad; it reminded her of happier days. It was like a rainbow on a miserable rainy day she often had in San Francisco. It was like a chocolate bonbon amongst a bag of sour liquorices. It reminded her of her grandmother; her only member of her family who truly cared or loved her. Her grandmother clearly stated in her will that Lillith would receive a quarter of her estate. She wasn't rich, but whilst she was alive she paid for Lilliths guitar lessons. And her estate still paid for them.

Her grandma had died two years earlier and her death still left a scar on Lilliths soul. Her heart was fragile and heavy with grief so she couldn't emotionally connect with other people of her age. She didn't make friends easily but enemies would be made in the blink of an eye. The other kids at school didn't understand her; they misunderstood her music as being just rubbish; yet to her it was a way to express her anger with the world. That was why she loved Green Day and Paramore so much. That's why she adored MCR and All Time Low. They said what they believed in. She wanted to do that too. That's why she took up guitar. That's why she practiced everyday without fail. She wanted her own music to be acknowledged; yet no one would listen; they just ignored her. Even her parents ignored her music and told her to quit it with the guitar. She didn't. Without a doubt she came in every Monday; fingers held tight around the neck of her guitar. Charlie was the only one who understood her; sometimes he'd just spend whole lessons just listening to Lilliths material and giving input. Charlie and Lillith were great friends; in a sense he was her only best friend.

"I think you got it pretty much sorted. Just work on your timing a bit." Charlie advised before Lillith walked out the door.
"Sure thing." She replied just before closing the practise room door, "Thank you."