Billie Joe's Third Son
Not the beginning
I opened my green eyes as the alarm clock whined through the silence. Alarm clock meant Monday. Monday meant school for five days. I hated school. Hated it. "Get up kids!" I heard Mum scream from downstairs. I heard her walking through the hall to wake up Antonia and Michael. She'd wake me up next. I heard her walk over to my door. Time to pretend. I closed my eyes, pretending I was asleep.
"Joey, get up. I heard your alarm clock." Spotted. Damn!
"Mum, I'm...I'm ill," I mumbled, pretending to cough.
"No, Billie Joe, you're not." I hated it when my mum uses my full name. Blah.
"It's your future," she said, and left the room.
Finally, I thought, trying to sleep again.
"Joey!" I heard a girls voice shout, and suddenly someone started to jump up and down my bed.
"Thanks Toni," I said, and slowly opened my eyes again.
"Get up, get up, get up!" she yelled.
*
As you already know, my name is Billie Joe. Billie Joe Armstrong. Never understood why mum named me Armstrong, it's not like she's named it herself. I've got three siblings, a big sister Zandra, a little sister, and a little brother. Antonia and Michael. Twins. Everyone calls me Joey, 'cause of Johnny. Johnny's one of my best mates, but he lives in Norway. I've known him since I was one, and lived up north Norway ( I live in Scotland now ), where my grandparents raised me. I lived there until I was 11 (I'm 14 by now), then Grandpa died. Shame that. He was like a Dad to me. I don't know who my real father is, left alone my creepy stepfather named Glen. Buh. I hate him more than anything and anyone else. Not that I haven't got a good reason...
*
"There ya go hon. Please walk your siblings to school so they do not get lost," Mum said, handing me the usual cash for food.
"Sure," I said and looked over to the twins. They were busy bugging each other.
"Come on guys," I said and waved at them.
"I don't wanna go to school," Michael cried.
"Take the bus then," I sarcasticly mumbled.
"Figure it out yourselves, I have to go," Mum said, grabbing the car keys before she slammed the door and left.
*
"Why are you wearing make up?" Brian asked me. Brian was one of this kids no one liked. Fat kid. Eating all the time. I'd never really liked him either, but he was the only one who'd sit with me at lunch.
"Because you're gonna have something stupid to ask about," I mumbled. I hated to watch him eat. It was like watching Glen wank. Yuk!
"But you're a boy."
"Well you don't sound like one. And you sure don't look like one either," I replied and got up.
"Where are you going?" Brian said, stuffing his face. He didn't even shut his mouth while eating.
"That's my business," I replied.
"But you're not finished eating," Brian said, tearful. I felt kinda sorry for him, 'cause no one liked him. But I didn't like him myself either, so that didn't stop me from going.
"You eat the rest," I said, and left him to eat.
*
"You ran emtpy? Again?" Don said.
"Yes, I told you. I need some more," I replied.
"You're screwed," Don laughed. "How many pills d'ya take every day?"
"Like I know. I can get the money. Honestly, I can." God he was so stubborn sometimes.
"Alright, alright," he said. "Is that your real hair colour?"
I looked down my long, spiky red hair. You never knew with Don. He just suddenly changed the subject, whatever you'd talk with him about.
"Yep," I replied.
"Not as pretty as mine though," he sarcasticly said, and laughed.
I looked at him. Ashblonde curly hair, shoulder length. Metallica shirt. He was quite a guy for being forty two.
"Well, I can't get ya anything standing 'round here all day, can I?" he said, disappearing inside his house. He came out, after a while, handing me a bag.
"Here ya go, boy. For normal people this should be enough for a month," he laughed. "But for you Armstrong, this won't last two weeks."
"Thanks mate," I replied with sarcasm in my voice. You had to be sarcastic with him, he didn't like nice people. Sounds retarted, right? For me it wasn't. I was always being sarcastic anyway. Almost.
"And don't forget, boy, you owe me 400p, eh?"
"I won't."
"Good."
*
I skipped. Again. Mum was right. I'd never get a good job. As if it mattered anyway. The clock said 1:58PM. Glen'd be home in 32 minutes. Glen. I thought of him in discust, and swallowed the first pill.
Why me, Glen? I thought, several times, each time taking another pill.
Not taking too many, I dragged the almost full bag up to my room, and threw it under the bed. I sat down, waiting. Waiting for Glen to come. Waiting to be strong enough to quit taking ecstasy pills. Waiting for the unknown...
"Joey, get up. I heard your alarm clock." Spotted. Damn!
"Mum, I'm...I'm ill," I mumbled, pretending to cough.
"No, Billie Joe, you're not." I hated it when my mum uses my full name. Blah.
"It's your future," she said, and left the room.
Finally, I thought, trying to sleep again.
"Joey!" I heard a girls voice shout, and suddenly someone started to jump up and down my bed.
"Thanks Toni," I said, and slowly opened my eyes again.
"Get up, get up, get up!" she yelled.
*
As you already know, my name is Billie Joe. Billie Joe Armstrong. Never understood why mum named me Armstrong, it's not like she's named it herself. I've got three siblings, a big sister Zandra, a little sister, and a little brother. Antonia and Michael. Twins. Everyone calls me Joey, 'cause of Johnny. Johnny's one of my best mates, but he lives in Norway. I've known him since I was one, and lived up north Norway ( I live in Scotland now ), where my grandparents raised me. I lived there until I was 11 (I'm 14 by now), then Grandpa died. Shame that. He was like a Dad to me. I don't know who my real father is, left alone my creepy stepfather named Glen. Buh. I hate him more than anything and anyone else. Not that I haven't got a good reason...
*
"There ya go hon. Please walk your siblings to school so they do not get lost," Mum said, handing me the usual cash for food.
"Sure," I said and looked over to the twins. They were busy bugging each other.
"Come on guys," I said and waved at them.
"I don't wanna go to school," Michael cried.
"Take the bus then," I sarcasticly mumbled.
"Figure it out yourselves, I have to go," Mum said, grabbing the car keys before she slammed the door and left.
*
"Why are you wearing make up?" Brian asked me. Brian was one of this kids no one liked. Fat kid. Eating all the time. I'd never really liked him either, but he was the only one who'd sit with me at lunch.
"Because you're gonna have something stupid to ask about," I mumbled. I hated to watch him eat. It was like watching Glen wank. Yuk!
"But you're a boy."
"Well you don't sound like one. And you sure don't look like one either," I replied and got up.
"Where are you going?" Brian said, stuffing his face. He didn't even shut his mouth while eating.
"That's my business," I replied.
"But you're not finished eating," Brian said, tearful. I felt kinda sorry for him, 'cause no one liked him. But I didn't like him myself either, so that didn't stop me from going.
"You eat the rest," I said, and left him to eat.
*
"You ran emtpy? Again?" Don said.
"Yes, I told you. I need some more," I replied.
"You're screwed," Don laughed. "How many pills d'ya take every day?"
"Like I know. I can get the money. Honestly, I can." God he was so stubborn sometimes.
"Alright, alright," he said. "Is that your real hair colour?"
I looked down my long, spiky red hair. You never knew with Don. He just suddenly changed the subject, whatever you'd talk with him about.
"Yep," I replied.
"Not as pretty as mine though," he sarcasticly said, and laughed.
I looked at him. Ashblonde curly hair, shoulder length. Metallica shirt. He was quite a guy for being forty two.
"Well, I can't get ya anything standing 'round here all day, can I?" he said, disappearing inside his house. He came out, after a while, handing me a bag.
"Here ya go, boy. For normal people this should be enough for a month," he laughed. "But for you Armstrong, this won't last two weeks."
"Thanks mate," I replied with sarcasm in my voice. You had to be sarcastic with him, he didn't like nice people. Sounds retarted, right? For me it wasn't. I was always being sarcastic anyway. Almost.
"And don't forget, boy, you owe me 400p, eh?"
"I won't."
"Good."
*
I skipped. Again. Mum was right. I'd never get a good job. As if it mattered anyway. The clock said 1:58PM. Glen'd be home in 32 minutes. Glen. I thought of him in discust, and swallowed the first pill.
Why me, Glen? I thought, several times, each time taking another pill.
Not taking too many, I dragged the almost full bag up to my room, and threw it under the bed. I sat down, waiting. Waiting for Glen to come. Waiting to be strong enough to quit taking ecstasy pills. Waiting for the unknown...