Billie Joe's Third Son
Part thirteen
July 1991
I looked down on the white carpet, where I spotted two small dents. My newborn little brother and sister. They were twins, and Mummy's weird boyfriend was their father. Grandma and Grandpa'd taken me and my sister Zandra to Scotland to see them. I looked up, and caught Mum looking at me.
"What do you think, honey?" she spoke. She had a huge smile spread across her face. I looked down at the two children again. I didn't know what to think. Would Mummy send them back to Norway with me, Grandma, Grandpa and Zandra? Would they drive the attention away from me, 'cause they were youngest?
"Donno," I replied.
"They are so cute," the now fifteen year old Zandra said. She sat down beside the carpet, and took one of them's little hand.
"So, have you named them yet?" asked Grandpa, and nodded towards Mum and her boyfriend. He wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her head on his chest. I didn't like watching them, so I looked down again.
"We were thinking of April for the girl, and Michael for the boy. I'm not so sure about April though, that was Glen's idea," Mum replied and smiled. Grandpa lifted Michael up.
"Hello there, little Mike," he spoke, looking directly in Michael's eyes.
Mike. There was something familiar about the name Mike.
*
2003
"Are you ok?" the man spoke again. I looked up, and met Glen's brown eyes.
"Since when did you start caring?" I hissed back. I was not in the mood for one of Glen's special sweet talks. He sat down beside me.
Go away.
"Your mother and I have been so worried. Antonia said you'd left to fetch a bucket and didn't come bac.."
"Just fuck off Glen!" I yelled. I was angry and nervous, and here sat the man I hated more than anyone else, trying to calm me down, saying he'd actually been worried.
"Don't talk to me like that," Glen said. Surprisingly, he didn't sound angry. Yet.
I don't want your sympathy, I thought. All I want is for you is to leave me alone.
I decided to shut up, until he gave up and left. I noticed he tried to make me look at him. I didn't.
"Look at me," he suddenly said. I couldn't. I'd been taking ecsasty, and if I looked at him he'd notice. He suddenly grabbed my chin, and made me look at him.
"Your pupils are huge," he said, and let go of my chin.
Busted.
I didn't reply. I couldn't reply. Couldn't speak.
"C'mon kid, it's time we got back. You, me and your mother need to talk."
"This is your fault," I mumbled under my breath.
"How come it's my fault?" he replied. His tone had changed. I'd pissed him off. Made him angry.
"Because you've been abusing me for four fucking years, Glen, that's why." I changed my tone too. He suddenly grabbed my neck, and dig his nails under my skin.
"Don't you ever take that tone with me, Billie Joe Armstrong, you hear me? Ever!" I didn't reply. Normally I would've been scared stiff, but I was not going to let him win this time.
"You think you're so special, but you're nothing!" he yelled. "You hear me? Nothing!"
"Don't waste your breath Glen," I calmly replied. "If you shout any louder now, this place will be filled with people."
He slowly let go of my neck. I was pissed off too, but made sure he didn't notice. I was good at pretending.
"Let's go back before your Mum get suspicious," he mumbled. I let out a small laugh.
"Suspicious? But Glen, she'd never suspect you, would she? No. Do whatever you want, but I'm staying here."
"What did I tell you?" he spoke, getting angrier by the minute. When I didn't reply, he completely misfired.
"Get up dumb kid," he half spoke, half whispered. He always did that when he was completely out of his mind. I did as he told me, and forced my feet to carry me.
"Come on, now," he said grabbing my arm. I pulled it back, and he tried to grab it again.
"Get your hands off of me, you ugly cock!" I shouted. His face changed from an angry, to a shocked expression.
"What did you call me?" he replied, still shocked. He probably was, 'cause he knew I didn't dare calling him stuff. Until now.
"You heard me," I muttered.
"Come here, you.." I didn't give him the chance to say no more, but pushed him against the wall. He tried to get loose from my grip, but I was too strong for him.
"I said, get your hands off me, and leave me the fuck alone, you old, miserable, sad duck," I said, and let go of him. I must've scared him, 'cause he took his chance and ran off.
Don't tell me I didn't warn you.
*
Mum'd told me and Michael to go to sleep earlier than we used to today, in all of ours bedroom, while she had a serious talk with Dad, and Joey in the livingroom. I didn't understand why we couldn't crash with Aunt Amanda. If we had, we didn't have to hear Mum yell at Joey, Joey yell at Mum, and Dad trying to play the innocent, and wise one.
"Michael? Are you awake?" I whispered in Michael's ear. He yawned and opened his eyes.
"I am now."
"Why didn't we stay with Aunt Amanda?" I asked him.
"Because Aunt Amanda is in Spain," Michael replied. "She's not back before tomorrow. Then we can stay with her. I know because Dad told me so." He probably said that, 'cause he didn't want any more questions. He didn't like long chats.I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes. I hated it when Joey and Mum fought, and it happened pretty often nowadays. I wanted to fall asleep, hearing no more. I couldn't. It was impossible, seeing as though Joey's voice always was too loud.
"Michael?"
"Hmm?"
"Why are Mum and Joey fighting?" Michael looked down to me. His blue eyes lightened up with exitement. His black hair, which actually was his natural hair colour, smelled strawberry shampoo.
"Because Joey has been taking drugs, Antonia." Michael replied. I loved my twin brother so much. He always knew everything. He was my personal gossip machine. I nudged him.
"How come you always know everything? Why has Joey been taking drugs?" I asked.
"Acutally, I don't know everything. No one seems to know why he's been taking it," he replied, and yawned again.
"Antonia, I'm tired. Please go to sleep," he said, and closed his eyes. I heard Joey yell something in the livingroom, then steps coming towards the bedroom door. It slowly opened, and someone stepped in. Cursing to himself, Joey stripped to his boxers, and dumped himself on the bed beside ours.
"Joey?" I whispered.
"Hmm?" he replied.
"Why are you taking drugs?" He didn't reply. I knew he didn't wanna talk about it, but I had to ask. I sighed. I knew I had to tell him, now or never. I looked at Michael. He was slightly snoring.
"Joey?" I said again.
"What?" he replied, in an angry tone. I bit my lip before I continued.
"Joey, I know who your father is."
I looked down on the white carpet, where I spotted two small dents. My newborn little brother and sister. They were twins, and Mummy's weird boyfriend was their father. Grandma and Grandpa'd taken me and my sister Zandra to Scotland to see them. I looked up, and caught Mum looking at me.
"What do you think, honey?" she spoke. She had a huge smile spread across her face. I looked down at the two children again. I didn't know what to think. Would Mummy send them back to Norway with me, Grandma, Grandpa and Zandra? Would they drive the attention away from me, 'cause they were youngest?
"Donno," I replied.
"They are so cute," the now fifteen year old Zandra said. She sat down beside the carpet, and took one of them's little hand.
"So, have you named them yet?" asked Grandpa, and nodded towards Mum and her boyfriend. He wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her head on his chest. I didn't like watching them, so I looked down again.
"We were thinking of April for the girl, and Michael for the boy. I'm not so sure about April though, that was Glen's idea," Mum replied and smiled. Grandpa lifted Michael up.
"Hello there, little Mike," he spoke, looking directly in Michael's eyes.
Mike. There was something familiar about the name Mike.
*
2003
"Are you ok?" the man spoke again. I looked up, and met Glen's brown eyes.
"Since when did you start caring?" I hissed back. I was not in the mood for one of Glen's special sweet talks. He sat down beside me.
Go away.
"Your mother and I have been so worried. Antonia said you'd left to fetch a bucket and didn't come bac.."
"Just fuck off Glen!" I yelled. I was angry and nervous, and here sat the man I hated more than anyone else, trying to calm me down, saying he'd actually been worried.
"Don't talk to me like that," Glen said. Surprisingly, he didn't sound angry. Yet.
I don't want your sympathy, I thought. All I want is for you is to leave me alone.
I decided to shut up, until he gave up and left. I noticed he tried to make me look at him. I didn't.
"Look at me," he suddenly said. I couldn't. I'd been taking ecsasty, and if I looked at him he'd notice. He suddenly grabbed my chin, and made me look at him.
"Your pupils are huge," he said, and let go of my chin.
Busted.
I didn't reply. I couldn't reply. Couldn't speak.
"C'mon kid, it's time we got back. You, me and your mother need to talk."
"This is your fault," I mumbled under my breath.
"How come it's my fault?" he replied. His tone had changed. I'd pissed him off. Made him angry.
"Because you've been abusing me for four fucking years, Glen, that's why." I changed my tone too. He suddenly grabbed my neck, and dig his nails under my skin.
"Don't you ever take that tone with me, Billie Joe Armstrong, you hear me? Ever!" I didn't reply. Normally I would've been scared stiff, but I was not going to let him win this time.
"You think you're so special, but you're nothing!" he yelled. "You hear me? Nothing!"
"Don't waste your breath Glen," I calmly replied. "If you shout any louder now, this place will be filled with people."
He slowly let go of my neck. I was pissed off too, but made sure he didn't notice. I was good at pretending.
"Let's go back before your Mum get suspicious," he mumbled. I let out a small laugh.
"Suspicious? But Glen, she'd never suspect you, would she? No. Do whatever you want, but I'm staying here."
"What did I tell you?" he spoke, getting angrier by the minute. When I didn't reply, he completely misfired.
"Get up dumb kid," he half spoke, half whispered. He always did that when he was completely out of his mind. I did as he told me, and forced my feet to carry me.
"Come on, now," he said grabbing my arm. I pulled it back, and he tried to grab it again.
"Get your hands off of me, you ugly cock!" I shouted. His face changed from an angry, to a shocked expression.
"What did you call me?" he replied, still shocked. He probably was, 'cause he knew I didn't dare calling him stuff. Until now.
"You heard me," I muttered.
"Come here, you.." I didn't give him the chance to say no more, but pushed him against the wall. He tried to get loose from my grip, but I was too strong for him.
"I said, get your hands off me, and leave me the fuck alone, you old, miserable, sad duck," I said, and let go of him. I must've scared him, 'cause he took his chance and ran off.
Don't tell me I didn't warn you.
*
Mum'd told me and Michael to go to sleep earlier than we used to today, in all of ours bedroom, while she had a serious talk with Dad, and Joey in the livingroom. I didn't understand why we couldn't crash with Aunt Amanda. If we had, we didn't have to hear Mum yell at Joey, Joey yell at Mum, and Dad trying to play the innocent, and wise one.
"Michael? Are you awake?" I whispered in Michael's ear. He yawned and opened his eyes.
"I am now."
"Why didn't we stay with Aunt Amanda?" I asked him.
"Because Aunt Amanda is in Spain," Michael replied. "She's not back before tomorrow. Then we can stay with her. I know because Dad told me so." He probably said that, 'cause he didn't want any more questions. He didn't like long chats.I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes. I hated it when Joey and Mum fought, and it happened pretty often nowadays. I wanted to fall asleep, hearing no more. I couldn't. It was impossible, seeing as though Joey's voice always was too loud.
"Michael?"
"Hmm?"
"Why are Mum and Joey fighting?" Michael looked down to me. His blue eyes lightened up with exitement. His black hair, which actually was his natural hair colour, smelled strawberry shampoo.
"Because Joey has been taking drugs, Antonia." Michael replied. I loved my twin brother so much. He always knew everything. He was my personal gossip machine. I nudged him.
"How come you always know everything? Why has Joey been taking drugs?" I asked.
"Acutally, I don't know everything. No one seems to know why he's been taking it," he replied, and yawned again.
"Antonia, I'm tired. Please go to sleep," he said, and closed his eyes. I heard Joey yell something in the livingroom, then steps coming towards the bedroom door. It slowly opened, and someone stepped in. Cursing to himself, Joey stripped to his boxers, and dumped himself on the bed beside ours.
"Joey?" I whispered.
"Hmm?" he replied.
"Why are you taking drugs?" He didn't reply. I knew he didn't wanna talk about it, but I had to ask. I sighed. I knew I had to tell him, now or never. I looked at Michael. He was slightly snoring.
"Joey?" I said again.
"What?" he replied, in an angry tone. I bit my lip before I continued.
"Joey, I know who your father is."